er. Ain't old enough to spell words o' more than
two syllables. What do they want with so many drummer-boys?"

"We aint no drummer-boys," said a bright-faced five-footer, who overhead
the question. "Nary drum for us. We haint got no ear for music. We're
regular soldiers, we are, and don't you forget it."

"But you ain't nigh 18," said Si, looking him over, pleased with the
boy's spirit.

"You bet I'm over 18," answered the boy. "I told the Mustering Officer
I was, and stuck to it in spite of him. There, you can see for yourself
that I am," and he turned up his foot so as to show a large 18 marked on
the sole of his shoe. "There, if that don't make me over 18, I'd like to
know what does," he added triumphantly, to the chorus of laughter from
his companions.

In the entire squad of 65 there were not more than half a dozen bearded
men. The rest were boys, all clearly under their majority, and many
seeming not over 15. There were tall, lathy boys, with tallowy faces;
there were short, stocky boys, with big legs and arms and fat faces as
red as ripe apples, and there were boys neither very fat nor very lean,
but active and sprightly as cats. They were in the majority. Long and
short, fat and lean, they were all bubbling over with animal spirits and
activity, and eager to get where they could see "real war."

"Say, mister," said the irrepressible five-footer, who had first spoken
to Si; "we've bin awful anxious for you to come and take us to our
regiment. We want to begin to be real soldiers."

"Well, my boy," said Si, with as much paternalism as if he had been a
grandfather, "you must begin right now, by actin' like a real soldier.
First, you mustn't call me mister. Mustn't call nobody mister in the
army. My name's Sergeant Klegg. This other man is Corporal Elliott, You
must always call us by those names, When you speak to either of us you
must take the position of a soldier--stand up straight, put your heels
together, turn your toes out, and salute, this way."

"Is this right?" asked the boy, carefully imitating Si.

"Yes, that's purty near right--very good for first attempt. Now, when I
speak to you, you salute and answer me. What is your name?"

"Henry Joslyn, sir."

"Well, Henry, you are now Private Joslyn, of the 200th Injianny
Volunteer Infantry. I can't tell what company you'll belong to till we
git to the rigimint, but I'll try to have you in Co. Q, my company."

"But when are we going to get our guns and