flask, and setting the cup down by his side, he commenced as follows:--

"You was with us, major, when Prevost served us that trick in Georgia,
last year--kept us, you remember, on the look out for him t'other side
of the Savannah, whilst all the time he was whisking of it down to
Charleston."

"You call this beginning at the beginning? Faith, you have started a
full year before your time. Do you think yourself a Polybius or a
Xenophon--who were two famous old fellows, just in your line,
sergeant--that you set out with a history of a whole war."

"I never knew any persons in our line--officers or men--of either of
them names,"--replied Robinson,--"they were nicknames, perhaps;--but I
do know, as well as another, when a thing turns up that is worth notice,
major; and this is one of 'em:--and that's the reason why I make mention
of it. What I was going to say was this--that it was a sign fit for
General Lincoln's consarnment, that these here British should make a
push at Charleston on the tenth of May, 1779, and get beaten, and that
exactly in one year and two days afterwards, they should make another
push and win the town. Now, what was it a sign of, but that they and the
tories was more industrious that year than we were?"

"Granted," said Butler, "now to your story, Mister Philosopher!"

"In what month was it you left us?" inquired the sergeant gravely.

"In March," answered Butler.

"General Lincoln sent you off, as we were told, on some business with
the continental congress: to get us more troops, if I am right. It was a
pity to throw away a good army on such a place--for it wa'nt worth
defending at last. From the time that you set out they began to
shut us in, every day a little closer. First, they closed a door on
one side, and then on t'other: till, at last they sent a sort of
flash-o'-lightning fellow--this here Colonel Tarleton--up to Monk's
corner, which, you know, was our back door, and he shut that up and
double bolted it, by giving Huger a most tremenjious lathering. Now,
when we were shut in, we had nothing to do but look out. I'll tell you
an observation I made, at that time."

"Well."

"Why, when a man has got to fight, it's a natural sort of thing
enough;--but when he has got nothing to eat, it's an onnatural state. I
have hearn of men who should have said they would rather fight than
eat:--if they told truth they would have made honest fellows for our
garrison at Charlestown. First, our veg