t as
anybody, so I don't think I'll lose no chances by stayin' with you."

"I promise you that we shall both go as soon as there's any prospect of
something worth going for," said the General, smiling. "Report there to
Wilson. He will instruct you as to your duties."

Wilson's first instructions were as to Shorty's personal appearance. He
must get a clean shave and a hair-cut, a necktie, box of paper collars,
a pair of white gloves, have blouse neatly brushed and buttoned to his
throat and his shoes polished.

"Dress parade every day?" asked Shorty, despairingly.

"Just the same as dress parade every day," answered the Chief Clerk.
"Don't want any scarecrows around these Headquarters. We're on dress
parade all the time before the people and other soldiers, and must
show them how soldiers ought to appear. You'll find a barber-shop and a
bootblack around the corner. Make for them at once, and get yourself in
shape to represent Headquarters properly."

"Don't know but I'd ruther go to the front and dig rifle-pits than to
wear paper collars and white gloves every day in the week," soliloquized
Shorty, as he walked out on the street. "Don't mind 'em on Sunday, when
you kin take 'em off agin when the company's dismissed from parade; but
to put 'em on in the mornin' when you git up, and wear 'em till you go
to bed at night--O, Jehosephat! Don't think I've got the constitution
to stand that sort o' thing. But it's orders, and I'll do it, even if it
gives me softenin' o' the brain. Here, you--(beckoning to a bootblack),
put a 250-pounder Monitor coat o' polish on them Tennessee River
gunboats. Fall in promptly, now."

The little darky gave an estimating glance at the capacious cowhides,
which had not had a touch of the brush since being drawn from the
Quarter master, and then yelled to a companion on the other side of the
street:

"Hey, Taters, come lend me a spit. I'se got a' army contrack."

"Vhat golor off a gravat do you vant?" asked the Jewish vender of
haberdashery, who was rapidly amassing a fortune from the soldiers.
"Dere's plack, red, kreen, plue--all lofely golors, unt de vinest kint
off silk. Yoost de same as Cheneral Krant vears. He puys lods off me.
Von't puy off nopody else vhen he gan ket to me. Now, dere's vun dat'll
yoost suit your light gomplexion. You gan vear dat on St. Batrick's
day."

And he picked out one of bright green that would have made Shorty's
throat seem in wild revolt against his hair.