Jackson is of French descent like myself."

"The Acadians, colonel," said Harry. "Grand troops they are."

"It is the French fighting blood," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St.
Hilaire, with a little trace of the grandiloquent in his tone. "Slurs
have been cast at the race from which I sprang since the rout and flight
at Waterloo, but how undeserved they are! The French have burned more
gunpowder and have won more great battles without the help of allies
than any other nation in Europe. And their descendants in North America
have shown their valor all the way from Quebec to New Orleans, although
we are widely separated now, and scarcely know the speech of one
another."

"It's true, Hector," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot. "I think I've heard
you say as much before, but it will bear repeating. Do you think,
Hector, that you happen to have about you a cigarette that has survived
the campaign?"

"Several of them, Leonidas. Here, help yourself. Harry, I would offer
one to you, but I do not recommend the cigarette to the young. You don't
smoke! So much the better. It's a bad habit, permissible only to the
old. Leonidas, do you happen to have a match?"

"Yes, Hector, I made sure about that before I asked you for the
cigarettes. Be careful when you light it. There is only one match for
the cigarettes of both."

"I'll bring you a coal from one of the campfires," said Harry, springing
up.

But Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire waved him down courteously,
though rather reprovingly.

"You would never fire a cannon shot to kill a butterfly," he said, "and
neither will I ever light a delicate cigarette with a huge, shapeless
coal from a campfire. It would be an insult to the cigarette, and after
such an outrage I could never draw a particle of flavor from it. No,
Harry, we thank you, you mean well, but we can do it better."

Harry sat down again. The two colonels, who had been through days of
continuous marching and fighting, knelt in the lee of the fence, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire also shaded the operation with
his hat as an additional protection. Colonel Leonidas Talbot carefully
struck the match. The flame sputtered up and his friend brought his hat
closer to protect it. Then both lighted their cigarettes, settled back
against the fence, and a deep peace appeared upon their two faces.

"Hector," said Colonel Talbot, "only we old soldiers know how little it
takes to make a man happy."

"You speak t