me by the arm and led me over to the fire. They all
started and stared at me, and to save my life I could not tell which was
my brother; but one more ragged than the rest uttered a suppressed cry,
rushed forward, and throwing his arm about my neck, sobbed and cried like
a child. "My God! my brother! Oh George, George, why did you come here?"
His grief seemed to touch them all, for they all began to wipe their eyes
with their ragged coat-sleeves. This began to tell on me, and for the next
ten minutes it was a kind of a blubbering camp. After awhile they
reconciled themselves, and began to ply me with questions faster than I
could answer. My brother sat down with me and lectured me very soundly
for coming, as there was no need of it. He gave a graphic description of
the hardships they had endured, and I can never obliterate the picture he
presented that night. His clothes were ragged and patched, begrimed with
smoke, grease and dirt; his hat an old soft one, with part of the rim gone
and the crown perforated with bullet holes; his beard scraggly and dirty;
his big toes peeping out of a pair of old boots with the heels all run
down, in fact, he was a sight--a strong contrast to my tailor-made suit. I
will never forget the expression on my brother's face when about half an
hour after my arrival he looked up to me with his eyes half full of tears
glistening on that dirty face, and with a kind of cynical smile, asked,
after looking me over and over: "What are you, anyhow?"

I told him I didn't know.

"Well, after you have been here awhile, those pretty clothes won't look as
they do now, and you will probably find out what you are after you have
dodged a few shells."

Our conversation was brought to a climax by orders to break camp and fall
in. We learned we were going to embark somewhere on a boat; everything was
hustle-bustle now; little sheltered tents were struck, tin cups, canteens,
knapsacks were made ready, and in about fifteen minutes that begrimed,
dirty, hungry family of Uncle Sam's was on the march to the river. We were
marched on board an old ferry-boat, and crowded so thickly that we could
scarcely stand. My brother seemed now to feel that he had the
responsibility of my comfort, even my life, on his hands--and being a
favorite he elbowed me a place at the end of the boat, where we could sit
down by letting our feet hang over the end of the boat. In that position
we remained. We didn't have room to stand up and