country. That's the flag I fit under with ole Jackson at New Orleans. I
bless God that I've lived to see the day that hit's come back."

He took the flag in his hands, fondly surveyed its bright folds, and
then fervently kissed it. Then he said to his granddaughter:

"Nance, call the boys in, that they'uns's may see thar friends 've come
at last."

Nance seemed to need no second bidding. She sped back to the porch,
seized the long tin horn and sent mellow, joyful notes floating far over
the billowy hills, until they were caught up by the cliffs and echoed
back in subdued melody.

"Don't be surprised, gentlemen, at what yo'uns 'll see," said the old
man.

Even while the bugle-like notes were still ringing on the warm air, men
began appearing from the most unexpected places. They were all of the
same type, differing only in age from mere boys to middle-aged men. They
were tall, raw-boned and stoop-shouldered, with long, black hair, and
tired, sad eyes, which lighted up as they saw the flag and the men
around it. They were attired in rude, home spun clothes, mostly ragged
and soiled, and each man carried a gun of some description.

They came in such numbers that Si was startled. He drew his men
together, and looked anxiously back to see how near the regiment had
come.

"I done tole yo'uns not t' be surprised," said the old man reassuringly;
"they'uns 's all right every one of 'em a true Union man, ready and
willin' t' die for his country. The half o' they'uns hain't got in yit,
but they'll all come in."

"Yes, indeed," said one of the first of them to come in, a
pleasant-faced, shapely youth, with the soft down of his first beard
scantily fringing his face, and to whom Nancy had sidled up in an
unmistakable way. "We'uns 've bin a-layin' out in the woods for weeks,
dodgin' ole Bragg's conscripters and a-waitin' for yo'uns. We'uns 've
bin watchin' yo'uns all day yisterday, an' all this mornin', tryin'
t' make out who yo'uns rayly wuz. Sometimes we'uns thought yo'uns wuz
Yankees, an' then agin that yo'uns wuz the tail-end o' Bragg's army. All
we'uns 's a-gwine t' jine all yo'uns, an' fout for the Union."

"Bully boys right sentiments," said Shorty enthusiastically. "There's
room for a lot o' you in this very regiment, and it's the best regiment
in the army. Co. Q's the best company in the regiment, and it needs 15
or 20 fine young fellers like you to fill up the holes made by Stone
River and Tennessee rain and mud.