l say one word about the
war again, no matter how much you want me to. Now there's no use of
your asking me, because I never, never will!"

And she hoisted her green silk umbrella and stalked grimly from the
field, like the horrid, apparition of a nervous widower's dream.

"Really," says Samyule, irritably, "I don't think there's any other
country where old women would be allowed on the field of battle without
epaulets on their shoulders. But let us proceed with the war," says
Samyule, earnestly, "or we shall not get through in time for our coming
conflict with combined Europe."

Loud ring the bugles, my boy, on either side, as when two chivalrous
cocks crow defiance to each other from neighboring roosts; and
presently two rival circus-companies met in tremendous collision with
two-up and two-down, two over and two under:
guard--parry--feint--thrust! Twick, thwack, slam, bang; click-click,
click-click, click-click; chip, chop, higgledy-piggledy, crush, crowd,
and helter-skelter.

"Let me get at you, foul Hessian!" roared the hairy Munchausen, with
his horse hopping sideways in every direction.

"Die in thy sins!" shouted the excited Samyule, taking a slide toward
his charger's ears, as that spirited animal ecstatically waved his
hinder feet in the air.

"Coward, thou would'st fly me!" ejaculated Munchausen, just as his
Arabian got a-straddle of a caisson.

"You are my prisoner!" thundered Samyule, endeavoring to restrain his
blooded courser from climbing a tree near by.

"Beg for your life!" howled Munchausen, frantically clasping his arms
about the neck of his Hambletonian colt as they went skipping against
an ambulance together.

"Say thy last prayer!" yelled Samyule, backing frenziedly into the
middle of the Christian Commission.

"This to thy heart!" screamed Munchausen, disappearing in a ditch.

"Victory!" ejaculated Samyule, rolling down a hill.

And the second day's fighting was ended.

Night again upon the battle-field. The wearied soldier, as he seeks a
few hours of repose upon the damp and dreary ground, wonders what the
people of the great patriotic cities will think of the battle of the
day; whether they are indeed unspeakably proud and fond of the men
perilling and losing their lives that the nation may live? Oh, believe
it, thou most innocent of heroes; for is it not so written in all our
excellent morning journals? Put no trust in the Satyrs who tell thee
that thy countrymen at home, in t