feet, and
taking the position of a soldier.

"You don't command our brigade, do you?" said Shorty, trying to get a
better view of his face.

"I command this brigade, and several others," said the General,
smilingly enjoying their confusion.

"Lord, a Major-General commanding a corps," gasped Shorty, backing up
with the rest into line, and saluting with the profoundest respect.

"Still higher," laughed the General, stepping for ward to where the
light fell full on his face. "I'm Maj.-Gen. Rosecrans, commanding this
army. But don't be disturbed. You've done nothing. You are all entitled
to your opinions, as free American citizens; but I will insist that that
man had been in the king row, and should be crowned. But you settle that
among yourselves.

"I merely dropped in to compliment you on the skill you have shown in
building your house and its comfort. I'm glad to find that it looks even
better inside than out. I know that you are good soldiers from the way
you take care of yourselves. But so fine a house ought to have a better
checker-board than a barrel-head, with grains of corn for men. Who are
the owners of the house?"{187}

"Me and him," said Shorty, indicating himself and Si.

"Very good," said the General; "both of you report at my Headquarters
to-morrow morning at 10 o'clock. Good night."

"Three cheers and a tiger for Old Rosey," yelled Shorty as soon as he
could get his scattered wits together enough to say a word.

They gave three such rousing cheers that the rest of Co. Q came running
out of their tents, and joined in cheering, as fast as the news could be
communicated to them.

The next morning a squad of prisoners was being conducted toward Army
Headquarters. At their head walked a stout, middle-aged farmer, carrying
a portly blue umbrella. He had spent the night among the riotous spirits
in the guard-house, and had evidently undergone much wear and tear. He
looked as if things had not been going his way at all. By him marched
the stalwart Provost-Sergeant, with a heavy striped carpetsack under his
arm.

Gen. Rosecrans rode up at the head of his staff, from an early morning
inspection of some part of the camp. The men saluted and cheered.

"Whom have you here, Sergeant?" said the General, reining up his horse
beside the squad.

"That's Gen. Rosecrans," said one of the guards to Deacon Klegg.

"Nobody of importance," replied the Sergeant, "except this old man here.
He's a Knight of the{188