atch the breeze that wafts the sound of coming
rescue, and means: "_God is my defence._" At other times, it is the
eloquent protest of a fine intelligence which deprecates the test that
would turn all its hidden beauties to the public eye, and means:
_Humility is born of Genius._ But in this case, it was the lurid flush
of anger, and meant--_a petticoat_.

Not wishing to further betray the reproachful fact that he was an
unmarried Mackerel, Sergeant O'Pake closed the trunk with emphasis, and
permitted the triumphant young woman of America to trip it lightly to
the South.

The Mackerel Brigade at present constitutes one of three parallel
lines, the other two being the celebrated City of Paris and the well
known Southern Confederacy. Paris is the central one, and may be called
the line of battle, over which the Orange County Howitzers are
continually hurling shot and shell at the glorious sun. During the day
it is much frequented by Southern Confederacies, who drink anything
that will pour into a tumbler; and in the evening it is visited by our
indomitable troops, who go to look at the empty bottles. You may ask,
my boy, why the Confederacies are not routed, and Paris occupied? I
answer, that the new General of the Mackerel Brigade will not attack an
inferior force, and is waiting until there shall be something worth
killing on the opposite side. Too often did the former General of the
Mackerel Brigade make the mistake this high-minded conduct is intended
to avoid; too often, after an interval of only a few months, did he
lead the majestic Mackerels ahead of him into the field, and then
hastily retire, upon finding that the Confederacies were too inferior
in numbers to make their conquest worth while. But we shall have no
more such mistakes, for the new General will not move against the foe
until the latter is strong enough to make carnage desirable. Besides,
the man who was to build a bridge across Duck Lake, could not come last
week, on account of the rain, and there are no ferryboats running.

On Thanksgiving Day, however, we had a skirmish of thrilling intensity.
The conservative Kentucky chap, my boy, has got command of Company 2,
Regiment 1, and having drilled them in swearing, to the sound of the
Emancipation Proclamation, for a whole fortnight, he has brought them
to a high state of discipline and profanity. On Thursday morning, just
after one of our scouts had cleaned his spectacles, he beheld a
Confederate tu