a row,
Theirs not to question how,
Theirs but to charge the cow,
Into the grazing herd
Marched the red banners.

"'Cows to the right of them.
Cows to the left of them,
Cows still in front of them,
Peacefully chewing.
Gazed at in wild surprise,
Boldly, with steady eyes,
Marched on at double-quick
Shouting their battle-cries,
To their undoing.'

"'Whisked all the tails so bare,
Whisked in the sultry air,
Staring, as cows do stare,
Chewing the cud the while.
When from the close ranks
Broke forth a muffled beat.
_Not_ of bass drums, but feet,
Jersey and Alderney
Gazed on this mad retreat,
Gazed on the gay pranks
Of the old bull, who had
Broken the phalanx.

"'Fence to the right of them,
Fence to the left of them,
Jones's bull behind them.
Pawing and bellowing.
What need commands to tell?
Boldly they ran and well,
Not one small private fell.

"'Out of the horns of death,
Sergeant and squad pellmell,
Through the barbed-wire fence
Crawled the torn column.
When can their glory fade,
Oh, the retreat they made,
All Raleigh applauded!
Honor the Sergeant's feet,
Honor the squad's retreat,
Long be it lauded!'"

"Guy, that's fine!" ejaculated little Billy. "Isn't it, Dick?"
enthusiastically.

"Slickest thing I've ever heard," answered Dick.

"We did get to that fence quick, and no mistake. And, George! I woke up
every night for a week dreaming that the old bull was just running his
horns into me."

"We'll have to do something to get a better 'rep,'" said Tommy; "we've
done nothing but retreat so far. Old Farmer Applegate sent us flying,
when he had nothing but cow-hide boots and a pitchfork."

"It was his garden," reflected Fatty Simmons; "that was why I ran."

"Well, what are we going to do to-morrow, that's what I want to know?"
said Jack Green.

"I have it!" exclaimed the Sergeant, his eyes sparkling. "The very
thing, fellows! I heard Davis and Jim White talking yesterday (they
didn't know I was there), and they were arranging a scheme for the
Fourth, which it would be dandy fun to break up."

"What was it?" the others asked, eagerly.

"You know the little cannon in Mr. Scott's field? He thinks no end of
it; it's a Revolutionary relic or Waterloo or something. Well, those
fellows are going to steal it to-night and have a great time to-morrow.
Five of them are in it."

"Whew!" whistled