n,
with an antiquated, brass-bound Jenifer saddle, minus breast-strap and
housings of any kind, but equipped with his better half's brown leather
bridle, Minor knew perfectly well he was only a guy, and felt indignant
at Brax for putting him in so false a plight. He took his station,
however, in front of the regimental colors, without stopping to think
where the centre of the line might be after the battery came, and there
awaited further developments. Cram kept nobody waiting, however: his
leading team was close at the nimble heels of Captain Lawrence's company
as it marched gayly forth to the music of the band. He formed sections
at the trot the instant the ground was clear, then wheeled into line,
passed well to the rear of the prolongation of the infantry rank, and by
a beautiful countermarch came up to the front and halted exactly at the
instant that Lawrence, with the left flank company, reached his post,
each caisson accurately in trace of its piece, each team and carriage
exactly at its proper interval, and with his crimson silk guidon on the
right flank and little Pierce signalling "up" or "back" from a point
outside where he could verify the alignment of the gun-wheels on the
rank of the infantry, Cram was able to command "front" before little
Drake, the adjutant, should have piped out his shrill "Guides posts."

But Drake didn't pipe. There stood all the companies at support, each
captain at the inner flank, and the guides with their inverted muskets
still stolidly gazing along the line. It was time for him to pipe, but,
instead of so doing, there he stuck at the extreme right, glaring down
towards the now immovable battery and its serene commander, and the
little adjutant's face was getting redder and puffier every minute.

"Go ahead! What are you waiting for?" hoarsely whispered the senior
captain.

"Waiting for the battery to dress," was the stanch reply. Then aloud the
shrill voice swept down the line: "Dress that battery to the right!"

Cram looked over a glittering shoulder to the right of the line, where
stood the diminutive infantryman. The battery had still its war
allowance of horses, three teams to each carriage, lead, swing, and
wheel, and that brought its captain far out to the front of the sombre
blue rank of foot,--so far out, in fact, that he was about on line with
Major Minor, though facing in opposite direction. Perfectly confident
that he was exactly where he should be, yet equally deter