hurt with the heavy,
sharp knife, and he mixed in to get it in his hand. In the scuffle his
hat, mittens and comforter were thrown to the floor and trampled in the
tobacco juice. The provost-guard rushed in, a stalwart Sergeant{168}
separated the combatants, jammed the first soldier down in the seat
until the timbers cracked, banged the other one's head against the side
of the car, and remarked:

"Confound you, don't either o' you raise a hand or open your mouths, or
I'll break both your necks. Old man, you keep mighty quiet, too. Hain't
you got no sense, to mix up in such a row? You're old enough to
know better. I'll snatch you off this train if you make any more
disturbance."

Mr. Klegg's blood was up. He wanted to thrash the whole crowd, including
the Sergeant, and felt equal to it. But the cry was raised that the
train was going. The Sergeant hastened off, with a parting admonition to
him to keep still if he knew what was good for him.

"I'm afeared the army's a mighty rough place," thought Mr. Klegg, as he
gathered up his soiled belongings and tried to straighten them out. "I
wonder if it'll git wuss the nearer we git to the front?"

The train pulled out of Louisville, and he became interested in the
great banks of red earth, crowned with surly, black-mouthed cannon,
where the forts were, the rows of white tents in the camps, the
innumerable droves of horses and mules in the corrals, and the long
trains of army wagons.

"I'm goin' to stock up with some horses when I git back," he said to
himself. "The Government seems to need a powerful sight o' them, and
prices is goin' up faster'n wheat."

Things had now been tolerably quiet in the car for over half an hour,
entirely too long for a party of soldiers returning to the front.
Monotonous peace{169} was obnoxious to them. A two-fisted young fellow
up toward the front rose up, drained the last drops from a pint flask,
dashed the bottle on the floor, and yelled:

"Here's for a quiet life, and peace and good will.{170} I belong to John
F. Miller's Brigade, the best brigade in the Army of the Cumberland, and
the only one that captured any guns at Stone River. I can lick any man
in McCook's Corps."

The answering yell that went up seemed to indicate that nearly all in
the car belonged to McCook's Corps. There was a general peeling off of
overcoats, and a rush forward of answerers to his bold challenge. A few
yelled,

"Hooray for Miller's Brigade!"