the matter."

At last he said, "Come in, then; I'll see what I can do." The seekers
after food accepted the ungracious invitation, followed the dog through
his yard and into his house, and took seats at his table. At a signal
from the master a servant went out. The host followed, and, it is
supposed, instructed her. The host returned, and was soon followed by
the servant bearing two plates, which were placed before the survivors.
Alas! that they should "survive" to see that the plates contained the
heads, tails, fins, and vertebrae of the fish, fresh from the river,
which the family of this hero and sufferer from the evils of war had
devoured at their early, and, no doubt, cozy breakfast.

Survivor No. 1 looked at Survivor No. 2, Survivor No. 2 looked at
Survivor No. 1, and simultaneously they rose to their feet, glanced at
the "host," and strode to and out of the door. The "host" followed,
amazed. "What's the matter, gentlemen? You did not eat." The "poor
soldiers" replied: "No, we didn't eat; we are not dogs. Permit us to say
we are satisfied it would be an injustice to the canine race to call
_you_ one. You deserve to lose another mare. You are meaner than any
epithets at our command."

The man fairly trembled. His face was pale with rage, but he dared not
reply as he would. Recovering himself, and seeing an "odorous" name in
the future, he attempted apology and reparation for the insult, and
complete reconciliation. "Oh, come in, come in! I'll have something
cooked for you. Sorry the mistake occurred. All right, all right, boys;
come in," pulling and patting the "boys." But the boys wouldn't "go
in." On the contrary, they stayed out persistently, and, before they
left that gate, heaped on its owner all the contempt, disdain, and scorn
which they could express; flung at him all the derisive epithets which
four years in the army places at a man's disposal; pooh poohed at his
hypocritical regrets; and shaking off the dust of that place from their
feet, pushed on to the city, the smoke of which rose to heaven.

At eleven A.M. of the same day, two footsore, despondent, and
penniless men stood facing the ruins of the home of a comrade who had
sent a message to his mother. "Tell mother I am coming." The ruins yet
smoked. A relative of the lady whose home was in ashes, and whose son
said "I am coming," stood by the survivors. "Well, then," he said, "it
must be true that General Lee has surrendered." The solemnity of the