ruel invasion had they not been reassured by the general belief of
the community that one Southerner could whip ten Yankees, and that,
collectively, the South could drive back the North with pop-guns. When
the war actually broke out, the boys were the most enthusiastic of
rebels, and the troops in Camp Lee did not drill more continuously nor
industriously.

Their father, who had been a Whig and opposed secession until the very
last, on Virginia's seceding, finally cast his lot with his people,
and joined an infantry company; and Uncle William raised and equipped
an artillery company, of which he was chosen captain; but the infantry
was too tame and the artillery too ponderous to suit the boys.

They were taken to see the drill of the county troop of cavalry, with
its prancing horses and clanging sabres. It was commanded by a cousin;
and from that moment they were cavalrymen to the core. They flung
away their stick-guns in disgust; and Uncle Balla spent two grumbling
days fashioning them a stableful of horses with real heads and "sure
'nough" leather bridles.

Once, indeed, a secret attempt was made to utilize the horses and
mules which were running in the back pasture; but a premature
discovery of the matter ended in such disaster to all concerned that
the plan was abandoned, and the boys had to content themselves with
their wooden steeds.

The day that the final orders came for their father and uncle to go to
Richmond,--from which point they were ordered to "the Peninsula,"--the
boys could not understand why every one was suddenly plunged into such
distress. Then, next morning, when the soldiers left, the boys could
not altogether comprehend it. They thought it was a very fine thing to
be allowed to ride Frank and Hun, the two war-horses, with their new,
deep army saddles and long bits. They cried when their father and
uncle said good-bye, and went away; but it was because their mother
looked so pale and ill, and not because they did not think it was all
grand. They had no doubt that all would come back soon, for old Uncle
Billy, the "head-man," who had been born down in "Little York," where
Cornwallis surrendered, had expressed the sentiment of the whole
plantation when he declared, as he sat in the back yard surrounded by
an admiring throng and surveyed the two glittering sabres which he had
no one but himself to polish, that "Ef them Britishers jest sees dese
swodes dee'll run!" The boys tried to explain to him