eep warm, and get what rest
and sleep you can. You will need all your strength to-morrow."

"To-morrow," observes Winch, with a swaggering, braggart air, "we're
going to give the rebels the almightiest thrashing they've had yet! To
wade in their blood as deep as I've waded to-night in this mud and water,
that's what'll just suit me!"

"The less blood the better, boys," says Captain Edney. "But we must be
prepared to shed our own to the last drop, if need be, for we're bound to
sweep this island of every traitor to his country, before we leave it.
Make up your minds to that, boys!"

There is that in his tone which promises something besides child's play
on the morrow. He is calm, serious, spirited, resolute; and the hearts of
his men are fired by his words.

The troops are full of jest and merriment as they kick off their shoes,
and empty the water out of them, squeeze their dripping trousers, and,
lying on the ground, toast their steaming legs by the fires.

"I say, le's have a gallus old time to-night, to pay for our ducking,"
suggests Jack Winch. "I don't want to sleep."

"You ought to be off in the swamps, on picket duty, then," says Harris.
"Let them sleep that have a chance. For my part, I'm going to take the
captain's advice. There's no knowing what sounds will wake us up, or how
early."

"The sounds of muskets, I hope; and the earlier the better," says the
valiant Jack. "Dang that shoe! I believe I've roasted it! Bah! look at
Abe there, diving into his Testament, sure's you live."

And Winch, perceiving that Atwater paid no attention to the sneer, flung
his shoe at him. The soldier was reading by the light of the flames, when
the missile came, striking the book from his hands.

"Shame, shame!" cried Frank, indignantly. "Jack Winch, that is too mean."

"O, you go to"----France,--only Jack used a worse word,--"with that red
rag on your arm! I don't have any thing to say to non-combatants."

Frank might not have been able to stifle his indignation but for the
grave example of Atwater, who gave no more heed to Jack's shoe than he
had given to his base taunt, but, silently gathering up his book again,
brushed the sand from it, found his place, and resumed his reading, as
composedly as if nothing had happened. Neither did Frank say any thing.
But Ellis, near whom the shoe had fallen, tossed it back with a threat to
consign it to the fire if it came that way again.

"Wonder if my pocket-book got wet any," s