es not
seem to be contrived on those lines. At the end of a year, orders came
for Texas, and perhaps it was well that orders came, or we might be in
Santa Fe to-day, wrapt in a dream of past ages; for the city of the Holy
Faith had bound us with invisible chains.

With our departure from Santa Fe, all picturesqueness came to an end in
our army life. Ever after that, we had really good houses to live in,
which had all modern arrangements; we had beautiful, well-kept lawns
and gardens, the same sort of domestic service that civilians have, and
lived almost the same life.

CHAPTER XXXII. TEXAS

Whenever I think of San Antonio and Fort Sam Houston, the perfume of the
wood violet which blossomed in mid-winter along the borders of our lawn,
and the delicate odor of the Cape jessamine, seem to be wafted about me.

Fort Sam Houston is the Headquarters of the Department of Texas, and all
the Staff officers live there, in comfortable stone houses, with broad
lawns shaded by chinaberry trees. Then at the top of the hill is a great
quadrangle, with a clock tower and all the department offices. On the
other side of this quadrangle is the post, where the line officers live.

General Stanley commanded the Department. A fine, dignified and able
man, with a great record as an Indian fighter. Jack knew him well, as
he had been with him in the first preliminary survey for the northern
Pacific Railroad, when he drove old Sitting Bull back to the Powder
River.

He was now about to reach the age of retirement; and as the day
approached, that day when a man has reached the limit of his usefulness
(in the opinion of an ever-wise Government), that day which sounds the
knell of active service, that day so dreaded and yet so longed for, that
day when an army officer is sixty-four years old and Uncle Sam lays him
upon the shelf, as that day approached, the city of San Antonio, in fact
the entire State of Texas poured forth to bid him Godspeed; for if ever
an army man was beloved, it was General Stanley by the State of Texas.

Now on the other side of the great quadrangle lay the post, where were
the soldiers' barracks and quarters of the line officers. This was
commanded by Colonel Coppinger, a gallant officer, who had fought in
many wars in many countries.

He had his famous regiment, the Twenty-third Infantry, and many were
the pleasant dances and theatricals we had, with the music furnished
by their band; for, as it was a time of