" said Baker,
as he carefully fitted his notched sticks together. "That's why he got
promoted, I reckon. He stepped into a mud puddle, and his feet came out but
his shoes didn't."

"Well, I dare say, it was cheaper for the Government to give him a title
than a pair of shoes," observed Dan, cynically. "Why, you are going in for
luxury! Is that pile of oak shingles for your roof? We made ours of rails
covered with pine tags."

"And the first storm that comes along sweeps them off--yes, I know. By the
way, can anybody tell me if there's a farmer with a haystack in these
parts?"

"Pinetop got a load about three miles up," replied Dan, emptying his pipe
against the door sill. "I say, who is that cavalry peacock over yonder? By
George, it's Champe!"

"Perhaps it's General Stuart," suggested Baker witheringly, as Champe came
composedly between the rows of huts, pursued by the frantic jeers of the
assembled infantry.

"Take them earrings off yo' heels--take 'em off! Take 'em off!" yelled the
chorus, as his spurs rang on the stones. "My gal she wants 'em--take 'em
off!"

"Take those tatters off your backs--take 'em off!" responded Champe, genial
and undismayed, swinging easily along in his worn gray uniform, his black
plume curling over his soft felt hat.

As Dan watched him, standing in the doorway, he felt, with a sudden
melancholy, that a mental gulf had yawned between them. The last grim
months which had aged him with experiences as with years, had left Champe
apparently unchanged. All the deeper knowledge, which he had bought with
his youth for the price, had passed over his cousin like the clouds,
leaving him merely gay and kind as he had been of old.

"Hello, Beau!" called Champe, stretching out his hand as he drew near. "I
just heard you were over here, so I thought I'd take a look. How goes the
war?"

Dan refilled his pipe and borrowed a light from Pinetop.

"To tell the truth," he replied, "I have come to the conclusion that the
fun and frolic of war consist in picket duty and guarding mule teams."

"Well, these excessive dissipations have taken up so much of your time that
I've hardly laid eyes on you since you got routed by malaria. Any news from
home?"

"Grandma sent me a Christmas box, which she smuggled through, heaven knows
how. We had a jolly dinner that day, and Pinetop and I put on our first
clean clothes for three months. Big Abel got a linsey suit made at
Chericoke--I hope he'll come along in