rise to a funny incident in
Ypsilanti (Michigan). There were two rival schools in that town--the
"State Normal" and the "Union Seminary." The young men in these two
flourishing institutions were never entirely at ease except when playing
practical jokes upon each other. Soon after the secession of South
Carolina, some of the Seminary boys conceived the idea of compelling the
Normal people to show their colors. The first-named had put up the stars
and stripes, a thing that the latter had neglected to do. One morning
when the citizens of the town arose and cast their eyes toward the
building dedicated to the education and training of teachers, they were
astonished to see, flying from the lightning rod on the highest peak of
the cupola, a flag of white, whereon was painted a Palmetto tree,
beneath the shade of which was represented a rattle snake in act to
strike. How it came there no one could conjecture, but there it was,
floating impudently in the breeze, and how to get it down was the
question.

I believe that the authorities of the school never learned who it was
that performed this daring feat, but it will be violating no confidence,
at this late day, to say that the two heroes of this daring boyish
escapade, which was at the time a nine-days' wonder, served in the war,
one of them in what was known as the "Normal" company, and are now
gray-haired veterans, marching serenely down the western slope, toward
the sunset of their well-spent lives.

CHAPTER IV

THE SUMMER OF 1862

The summer of 1862 was one of the darkest periods of the war. Though
more than a year had elapsed since the beginning of hostilities, things
were apparently going from bad to worse. There was visible nowhere a
single ray of light to illumine the gloom that had settled down upon the
land. All the brilliant promise of McClellan's campaign had come to
naught, and the splendid army of Potomac veterans, after having come
within sight of the spires of Richmond, was in full retreat to the
James. The end seemed farther away than in the beginning. Grant's
successful campaign against Forts Henry and Donelson had been succeeded
by a condition of lethargy in all the Western armies. Notwithstanding
the successes at Pittsburg Landing and at Corinth, and the death of
Albert Sidney Johnston, who had been regarded as the ablest of all the
officers of the old army who had taken service with the confederates,
there had been a total absence of decisive