ere to meet orders to move forward at once, as soon
as breakfast was prepared and eaten. Away it marched for the Tennessee
River, behind which Bragg was supposed to be gathering his forces for
the defense of Chattanooga.

As Co. Q went by the cabin, Grandfather Onslow was seated in a
rocking-chair on the porch, smoking a cob pipe, while Mrs. Nancy Onslow
Hartburn, with her finger bashfully in her mouth, peeped around the
corner. Co. Q gave her a cheer, at which she turned and fled out of
sight, as if it was some raillery on her newly-married state, and Nate
hung down his head, as if he, too, felt the boys were poking fun at him.

"Good-by, boys. Lick the life outen Ole Bragg," quavered Grandfather
Onslow, waving his hand after them.

"That's what we're goin' to do," shouted the boys in reply.

"Well," said Si, "I bet if ever I'm married I'll kiss my wife before I
go away."

"Me, too," echoed Shorty, very soulfully.

Shorty and Si considered Nate Hartburn their special protege, and were
deeply anxious to transform him into a complete soldier in the shortest
possible time. He was so young, alert, and seemingly pliable, that it
appeared there would be no difficulty in quickly making him a model
soldier. But they found that while he at once responded to any
suggestion of a raid or a fight, drill, discipline and camp routine
were bores that he could be induced to take only a languid interest in.
Neither Si nor Shorty were any too punctilious in these matters, but
they were careful to keep all the time within easy conversational
distance of the regulations and tactics. Naturally, also, they wanted
their pupil to do better than they did. But no lecturing would prevent
young Hartburn from slouching around camp with his hands in his pockets
and his head bent. He would not or could not keep step in the ranks, nor
mark time. While Si was teaching him he would make a listless attempt
to go through the manual of arms, but he would make no attempt to handle
his gun the prescribed way after the lesson was ended. Si was duly
mindful of the sore time he himself had in learning the drill, and tried
to be very considerate with him, but his patience was sorely tried at
times.

"For goodness' sake, Nate," Si would say irritably, "try to keep step.
You're throwin' everybody out."

"'Tain't my fault, Si," Nate would reply with a soft drawl. "Hit's
theirs. I'm walkin' all right, but they'uns hain't. Jaw them. What's
the sense o' walk