delayed in our preparations for the Presidential canvass in
1865.

The last new General of the Mackerel Brigade is an officer of great
age, named Cox,--known to the soldiery as the Grim Old Fighting
Cox,--and I am happy to say, my boy, that he is an officer of great
ability. Spurning all that vain pomp which too often makes our generals
as clean in appearance as the military minions of the despotic powers
of Europe, he makes it a practice to attire himself like the
unostentatious dustman of a true Republic; and when he rides abroad to
inspect the regiments, it is universally admitted that he is like a
father visiting his children, whose great numbers make such demands
upon his means that he can't afford to dress himself respectably.

Having assumed command of the Mackerel Brigade, the Grim Old Fighting
Cox immediately summoned all his officers to his presence, and, having
engaged each in single combat and defeated him, he proceeded to show
his great ability. He beckoned to Captain Villiam Brown, who was at
that moment taking the sun's altitude with his canteen, and, says he:
"Tell me how many men are in the guard-house for beastly intoxication?"

Villiam smiled affably, and says he: "I don't remember just how many
that Republican institution will hold."

"Release them ALL!" thundered the Grim Old Fighting Cox, violently
rattling his sword, and firing a pistol in the air.

"Ah!" says Villiam, "here's Ability."

The next officer called was Captain Bob Shorty, and says the General to
him: "How many slow-matches did my predecessor order for the Orange
County Howitzers?"

Captain Bob Shorty took three steps in a break-down, and says he: "We
have always ordered seventy-five."

"Make it seventy-six!" roared the Grim Old Fighting Cox, kicking over
the writing-table and discharging a revolver over his shoulder.

Captain Bob Shorty gave a leap into the air, and says he:

"By all that's Federal! did I ever hear of so much Ability?"

As the Grim Old Fighting Cox was leaving his quarters, he came upon a
Mackerel chap who was stooping down to tie his shoe, and gave him a
kick that kindled conflagration in his vision. The poor chap rubbingly
picked himself up, and, says he:

"It appears to me I never see so much Ability."

Ability, my boy, in its modern acceptation as applied to military men,
appears to mean a peculiar capacity for surprising and startling
everybody--except the enemy.

Yours, suspiciously.

ORPHEUS