realized more than ever their utter unworldliness. He, although
a youth, saw that they belonged to a passing era, but in their very
unworldliness lay their attraction. He knew that whatever the fortunes
of the war, they would, if they lived, prove good citizens after its
close. All rancor--no, not rancor, because they felt none--rather all
hostility would be buried on the battlefield, and the friend whom they
would be most anxious to see and welcome was John Carrington, the great
Northern artilleryman, who had done their cause so much damage.

He opened his sack and let the red waterfall of apples pour down at
their feet. Startled by the noise, they looked up, despite a critical
situation on the board. Then they looked down again at the scarlet heap
upon the grass, and, powerful though the attractions of chess were,
they were very hungry men, and the shining little pyramid held their gaze.

"Apples! apples, Harry!" said Colonel Talbot. "Many apples, magnificent,
red and ripe! Is it real?"

"No, Leonidas, it can't be real," said Lieutenant Colonel Hector
St. Hilaire. "It can't be possible in a country that Sheridan swept as
bare as the palm of my hand. It's only an idle dream, Leonidas. I was
deceived by it myself, for a moment, but we will not yield any longer to
such weakness. Come, we will return to our game, where every move has
now become vital."

"But it isn't a dream, sir! It's real!" exclaimed Harry joyfully.
"We found an abandoned orchard, and it was just filled with 'em. Help
yourselves!"

The colonels put away their chessmen, remembering well where every one
had stood, and fell on with the appetites of boys. Other officers,
and then soldiers who were made welcome, joined them. Harry and Dalton,
after having eaten their share, were walking along the slope of the
mountain, when they heard the sound of a shot. It seemed to come from
a dense thicket, and, as no Northern skirmishers could be near, their
curiosity caused them to rush forward. When they entered the thicket
they heard Langdon's voice raised in a shout of triumph.

"I got him! I got him!" he cried. Then they heard a heavy sliding sound,
as of something being dragged, and the young South Carolinian appeared,
pulling after him by its hind legs a fine hog which he had shot through
the head.

"It was fair game," he cried, as he saw his friends. "Piggy here was
masterless, roaming around the woods feeding on nuts until he was fat