daily read and thus
draw my plans against the morrow; on the contrary, they were sometimes
held back until the military news was staled by time or were guardedly
communicated with blanks for names and the dead unnumbered. Potty,
Pipes, and Piffle were very real to me, and lived like actual people in
that dim garret. I can still see them through the mist of years; the
formidable General Stevenson, corpulent with solder, a detachable midget
who could be mounted upon a fresh steed whenever his last had been
trodden under foot, whose frame gave evidence of countless mendings; the
emaciated Delafield, with the folded arms, originally a simple
artilleryman, but destined to reach the highest honours; Napoleon, with
the flaming clothes, whom fate had bound to a very fragile horse;
Green, the simple patriot, who took his name from his coat; and the
redoubtable Lafayette in blue, alas! with no Washington to help him.

The names of that attic country fall pleasantly upon the ear and
brighten the dark and bloody page of war: Scarlet, Glendarule, Sandusky,
Mar, Tahema, and Savannah; how sweetly they run! I must except my own
(and solitary) contribution to the map, Samuel City, which sounds out of
key with these mouthfuls of melody, though none the less an important
point. Yallobally I shall always recall with bitterness, for it was
there I first felt the thorn of a vindictive press. The reader will see
what little cause I had to love the _Yallobally Record_, a scurrilous
sheet that often made my heart ache, for all I pretended to laugh and
see the humour of its attacks. It was indeed a relief when I learned I
might exert my authority and suppress its publication--and even hang the
editor--which I did, I fear, with unseemly haste. It will be noticed
that the story of the war begins on the tenth day, the earlier moves
being without interest save to the combatants themselves, passed as they
were in uncovering the cards on either side; and in learning, with more
or less success, the forces for which they stood. This was an essential
but scarcely stirring branch of tin-soldiering, and has been accordingly
unreported as too tedious even for the columns of the _Yallobally
Record_. When the veil had been somewhat lifted and the shadowy armies
discerned with some precision, the historian takes his pen and awaits
the clash of arms.

LLOYD OSBOURNE

WAR CORRESPONDENCE FROM STEVENSON'S NOTE-BOOK

GLENDARULE TIMES.--10th. _Scarl