the company and act as
orderly sergeant on dress parade. He said as our company was on the
right of the regiment, they could dress on my pants, and I wouldn't be
noticed.

What I ought to have done, was to have committed suicide right there,
but I went to the right, trying to look innocent, and we moved off to
the field for dress parade. Everything went on well enough, except that
in coming to a "carry arms," with my carbine, from a present, the muzzle
of the carbine knocked off my stiff hat, and the stock of the carbine
went into the pocket of my pants and run clear down my leg, before I
could rescue it. A file closer behind me picked up my hat and put it on
me, with the yellow cord tassels in front, and before I could fix it,
the order came, "First sergeants to the front and center, march." Those
who are familiar with military matters, know that at dress parade the
first sergeants march a few paces to the front, then turn and march to
the center of the regiment, turn and face the adjutant, and each salutes
that officer in turn, and reports, "Co. ----, all present or accounted
for." That was the hardest march I ever had in all of my army
experience. I knew that every eye of every soldier in the six companies
at the right of the regiment, would be on my pants, and the officers
would laugh at me, and the several hundred ladies and gentlemen from
town, who were back of the colonel, witnessing the dress parade, would
laugh, too. A man can face death, in the discharge of his duty, better
than he can face the laughter of a thousand people. I seemed to be the
only soldier in the whole regiment who had not got a pretty good fit
in drawing his new clothes, but I was a spectacle. As I marched to the
front, with the other eleven first sergeants, and stood still for them
to dress on me, I felt as though the piece of tent rope with which I
had fastened my large pants up, was becoming untied, and I began to
perspire. What would become of me if that rope _should_ become untied?
If that rope gave way, it seemed to me it would break up the whole army,
stampede the visitors, and cause me to be court-martialed for conduct
unbecoming any white man. I made up my mind if the worst came, I would
drop my carbine and grab the pants with both hands, and save the day. At
the command, right and left face, I turned to the left, and I could feel
the pants begin to droop, as it were, so I took hold of the top of them
with my left hand, and at the co