may forget,
you can be sure that it will not be his unpleasant personal experiences at
the Convalescent Camp.

Permit me to relate an incident that occurred there in which I bore a
conspicuous part, and which has afforded me much more amusement since than
it did at the time.

As I have already remarked, while we were on duty at the Convalescent
Camp, time hung heavily upon our hands, and quite a number of the members
of the regiment who had "influential friends" in Washington obtained
furloughs to visit home. Among those who sought the autograph of Drake
DeKay, by whom all furloughs were signed, and whose signature looked as if
it was written with his thumb about a month after a buzz-saw had got its
work in on the first joint, was the "raw recruit" of Company B. Others
received their furloughs, but mine tarried. I began to fear that my
"influential friends" had "got left"--at home. One afternoon, as I was
sitting in my tent ruminating as to how I would surprise my friends by
coming home unexpectedly, particularly my family, and as to how I would
spend my time while there, an orderly from the colonel's headquarters came
to our first sergeant and told him that the colonel wanted him to send a
man there immediately. Our first sergeant knowing that I expected a
furlough, and being willing to have a little fun at my expense, told me
that the colonel wished to see me at once. Getting myself together in the
best style I could at such short notice, and expecting to receive my
furlough and start for home by the evening train, I speedily reported
myself at the colonel's quarters. Judge of my great surprise when, instead
of the colonel stepping to the door of his tent with the coveted furlough
in his hand, and politely requesting me to accept it with his compliments,
and wishing me a pleasant visit home and a safe return, the aforesaid
orderly informed me that the colonel wished me to go to the blacksmith's
and keep the flies off his horse while he was being shod. I obeyed orders
as a matter of course, the flies were kept off, the horse was eventually
shod, my furlough never came, and my ways of spending it at home were
never realized. Such are the fortunes of war. The private soldier
proposes, and the officer opposes--that is, as a general thing.

CHAPTER V.

"Jumping from the frying-pan into the fire," the most of us thought when
we reached Alexandria, after leaving the Convalescent Camp, and found that
we were to be