e. The
lieutenant separated these goats from the humbler sheep, sent us under a
sergeant to another part of the field, and himself took charge of the
remainder. The sergeant divided us up into twos and set us by turns to
drilling each other, evidently to test our knowledge and our ability to
give commands.

Pickle was my victim, or I was his. We eyed each other doubtfully. "You
begin," said I. "No, you," retorted he. "Gee, what a gink I was to think
I wanted to be corporal!" So I tackled the job; and of course, not being
used to it, I made long pauses between the commands, gave them wrong,
could not assume a proper military accent. It's not so easy. I have
heard, in the armory at Boston, a militia captain (_captain_, mind you!)
give the command "Attention!" in three different ways, continually
experimenting. So how could I, for the first time in my life, rap out my
orders like a veteran? What we had to do was absurdly simple; but poor
Pickle, when I balked, succeeded no better than I, so finally we fell to
consulting each other about it and became idle, like other groups that we
saw. Then came our way another pair, who being as experienced as we are
green, speedily took us in charge and manhandled us almost as skilfully
as the lieutenant. I presently saw our West Pointer observing the
drilling groups, and with him another with two bars on his collar, the
same erectness, and the same natural air of knowing his business. The two
were like farmers judging cattle, disposing of each one with swiftness,
taking rapid notes, and then herding us together into our original ranks
for a final shaking down. The captain disappeared, but I hoped he was to
be ours, for though I had had but sidewise glimpses of him, there seemed
a fine frank openness about him that I liked.

Sure enough, in the afternoon he appeared in this wise. The company was
assembled and marched out onto the highway, where we stood in double rank
with our hats off, for a final sizing up. I heard a new voice, deep and
powerful, at the further end of the line; then along he came with the
lieutenant, rapidly sizing us up, counting us off, thrusting in a new man
here and there, the new men to be our corporals. Randall disappeared into
another squad, and we have now as corporal one of those two who drilled
Pickle and me this morning. There are these others of us: Pickle, Corder,
Knudsen, Lucy, Clay, a handsome young Southern medical student, and
Reardon, a grocer's cle