face as black
as charcoal, pulled off the leather bag in which cartridges are carried
from the limber to the gun, and handed it to one of the cannoneers, who
said:

"Well, good-by, if you must be going. You done well. You ought to belong
to the artillery. You're too good for a dough-boy. I'm going to ask the
Captain to have you detailed to us."

A similar scene was taking place at the next gun, with a little
blackamoor about the size of Sandy Baker.

The boys picked up their guns and belts from the ground, and fell in
with Co. Q.

"Hello, Corporal," said Pete, with a capacious grin rifting the powder
grime on his face. "We've just bin having lots o' fun."

"Pete, you aggravatin' little brat," said Shorty, giving him a cuff
that started the boy's tears to making little white streaks through the
black, "where in the world have you bin, and what've you bin doin'?"

"Why," whimpered Pete, "me and Sandy crept forward to a rock where we
thought we could see better, and then we thought we could see better
from another, and we kept a-goin' until we got clear up to where
the limbers was, afore we knowed it. Just then a couple o' them
powder-monkeys, as you call 'em, come runnin' back for cartridges, but
they was both hit, and was all bloody, and both of 'em fell down and
couldn't go no further, when they got the cartridges, though they wanted
to. Me and Sandy thought it was too bad that the men up there at the
guns shouldn't have no cartridges, when they was fighting so hard, so
we picked up the boys' bags and run up to the cannon with 'em. The men
there was so glad to git 'em, and told us to lay down our guns and run
back for some more. They kept us goin' till the rebels was knocked out,
and we thought we was doin' right and helpin', and they told us we was,
and now you slap me. Boo-hoo-hoo!"

"Don't cry, Pete. I done wrong," said Shorty, melting instantly, and
putting his arm around the boy. "You done right, and you're a brave,
good little boy. Only you must not go away from the company without
lettin' me know."

"Good God," groaned the Colonel, as he halted the regiment down the
slope, and studied the opposite side with his glass. "There's another
abatis, and it looks worse than the one in which we have just left half
the regiment. But we'll go through if there's only one man left to carry
the flag over the works. I don't suppose that we are any better than
those who have already died, or got any better right to liv