e was perfectly dead silence for a moment; then the voice of Mr.
Schermerhorn was heard calling, "Come, boys, are you ready? Jump in,
then, it is time to start for the boat." The boys turned and saw the
carriages which had brought them so merrily to the camp waiting to
convey them once more to the wharf; while a man belonging to the farm
was rapidly piling the regimental luggage into a wagon.

With sorrowful faces the Zouaves clustered around the pretty pony
chaise; shaking hands once more with Jessie, and internally vowing to
adore her as long as they lived. Then they got into the carriages, and
old Jerry grasped Freddy's hand with an affectionate "Good-by, my little
Colonel, God bless ye! Old Jerry won't never forget your noble face as
long as he lives." It would have seemed like insulting the old man to
offer him money in return for his loving admiration, but the handsome
gilt-edged Bible that found its way to him soon after the departure of
the regiment, was inscribed with the irregular schoolboy signature of
"Freddy Jourdain, with love to his old friend Jeremiah Pike."

As for the regimental standards, they were found to be rather beyond
the capacity of a rockaway crammed full of Zouaves, so Tom insisted on
riding on top of the baggage, that he might have the pleasure of
carrying them all the way. Up he mounted, as brisk as a lamplighter,
with that monkey, Peter, after him, the flags were handed up, and with
three ringing cheers, the vehicles started at a rapid trot, and the
regiment was fairly off. They almost broke their necks leaning back to
see the last of "dear Jessie," until the locusts hid them from sight,
when they relapsed into somewhat dismal silence for full five minutes.

As Peter was going on to Niagara with his father, Mr. Schermerhorn
accompanied the regiment to the city, which looked dustier and red
brickier (what a word!) than ever, now that they were fresh from the
lovely green of the country. By Mr. Schermerhorn's advice, the party
took possession of two empty Fifth avenue stages which happened to be
waiting at the Fulton ferry, and rode slowly up Broadway to Chambers
street, where Peter and his father bid them good-by, and went off to the
depot. As Peter had declined changing his clothes before he left, they
had to travel all the way to Buffalo with our young friend in this
unusual guise; but, as people had become used to seeing soldiers
parading about in uniform, they didn't seem particularly