sport, I suggested that he should call the General.

"'General,' said he, lowly, then louder, all the while saluting, until
the General awoke with a start.

"'Who the h--l are you, sir?'

"'I was ordered to report to you in person, sir, for special duty.'

"'Special duty, sir! Has it come to this? Must I assign the duty to be
performed by each individual man, sir, in the Division, sir!'

"The disheveled hair, flashing eyes, and fierce look of the General,
startled this new Detail, and he commenced explaining. The General broke
in abruptly, however, as if suddenly recollecting; and rubbing his
hands, while his countenance assumed a bland smile:

"'Oh, yes; you are right, sir, right; special duty, sir; yes, sir;
follow me, sir.'

"And the General arose and with somewhat uncertain strides left his
marquee, and, followed by the man, entered a Sibley partly in its rear.

"'There, sir,' said the General, pointing, with rather a pleased
countenance; 'do you see that barrel, sir?'

"'Yes, sir,' replied the Detail, saluting.

"'That barrel holds whisky, sir--whisky;'--rising upon his toes and
emphasizing the word; 'and I want you to guard it G--d d----d well.
Don't let a d--n man have a drop, sir. Do you understand, sir?'

"'Yes, sir,' rejoined the Detail, saluting, and commencing his beat
around the barrel.

"The General was about leaving the Sibley, when he turned suddenly;

"'Do you drink, sir?'

"'Once and a while, sir,' replied the Detail, saluting.

"'Have you had any lately?'

"'No, sir.'

"'By G--d, sir, I'll give you some, sir;' and he strides into his
marquee and returns with a tin cup full of liquor, which he placed upon
the barrel, and told the man to help himself. After the General had
gone, the Detail did help himself, until his musket lay on one side of
the Sibley and himself on the other."

"The General knows how to sympathize with a big dry," said one, as the
crowd laughed over the story.

Pen cannot do justice to the stories abounding in wit and humor
wherewith soldiers relieve the tedium of the camp. To an old campaigner,
their appearance in print must seem like a faded photograph, in the
sight of one who has seen the living original. Characters sparkling with
humor, such as was never attributed to any storied Joe Miller, abound in
every camp. The brave Wolfe, previously to the victory which cost him
his life, is reported to have sung, while floating down the St.
Lawrence: