si gets tangled in the mazes of the evolutions.

"all in for company drill!"

these words struck the unwilling ears of co. q, 200th ind., the next time buell halted his army to draw a long breath.

"wish somebody would shoot that durned orderly," muttered si klegg. "for two cents i'd do it myself."

"don't do it, si," admonished shorty, "they'd git another one that'd be just as bad. all orderlies are cusses."

si believed it would be a case of justifiable homicide, and, if the truth must be told, this feeling was largely shared by the other members of the company. for more than a week the boys had been tramping over a "macadamized" kentucky pike. feet were plentifully decorated with blisters, legs were stiff and sore, and joints almost refused to perform their functions.

it had rained nearly all the previous day, and the disgusted hoosiers of the 200th went sloshing along, wet to the skin, for 20 dreary miles. with that diabolical care and method that were generally practiced at such times, the generals selected the worst possible locations for the camps. the 200th was turned into a cornfield, where the men sank over their shoetops in mud, and were ordered to bivouac for the night. the wagons didn't get up at all. how they passed the slowly-dragging hours of that dismal night will not be told at this time. indeed, bare mention is enough to recall the scene to those who have "been there."

don't care a continental 073

in the morning, when the company was ordered out for drill, si klegg was standing before the sputtering fire trying to dry his steaming clothes, every now and then turning around to give the other side a chance. the mercury in his individual thermometer had fallen to a very low point—in fact, it was a cold day for si's patriotism. he had reached that stage, not by any means infrequent among the soldiers, when he "didn't care whether school kept or not."

"well, si, i s'pose you love your country this mornin'!" said shorty. he was endeavoring to be cheerful under adverse circumstances.

"i ain't quite as certain about it," said si, reflectively, "as i was when i left home, up in posey county. i'm afeared i haven't got enough of it to last me through three years of this sort of thing!"

si felt at that moment as though he was of no account for anything, unless it was to be decked with paint and feathers and stood for a sign in front of a cigar store.

the rain had ceased, and the colonel of the 200th felt that he must, like the busy bee, "improve each shining hour" in putting his command into condition for effective service. so he told the adjutant to have the companies marched over to an adjacent pasture for drill.

"attention, co. q!" shouted the captain, after the orderly had got the boys limbered up enough to get into ranks. the captain didn't know very much about drilling himself, but he had been reading up "hardee," and thought he could handle the company; but it was a good deal like the blind trying to lead the blind.

"right—face!"

not quite half the men faced the wrong way, turning to the left instead of the right, which was doing pretty well for a starter.

"get around there, klegg, and the rest of you fellows! can't ye ever learn anything."

'right--face!' 075

si was so particularly awkward that the captain put him at the tail-end of the company. then he tried the right face again, and as the boys seemed to get around in fair shape he commanded:

"right shoulder shift arms! forward—march!"

the company started off; but the captain was not a little surprised, on looking back, to see si marching: off in the opposite direction. he had faced the wrong way again, and, as he didn't see the others, he thought he was all right, and away he went on his own hook, till a shout from the captain told him of his mistake.

'forward--march!' 076

when the captain reached the field which was the drill-ground for the day, he thought he would try a wheel. after a brief lecture to the company on the subject he gave the command for the movement.

'company--right wheel!' 077

it is scarcely necessary to say that the first trial was a sad failure. the line bulged out in the center, and the outer flank, unable to keep up, fell behind, the company assuming nearly the shape of a big letter c. then the boys on the outer end took the double-quick, cutting across the arc of the proper circle, which soon resulted in a hopeless wreck of the whole company. the captain halted the chaotic mass of struggling men, and with the help of the orderly finally succeeded in getting them straightened out and into line again. the men had often seen practiced soldiers going through this most difficult of all tactical movements, and it seemed easy enough; they didn't see why they couldn't do it just as well as the other fellows. they kept at it, and in the course of half an hour had improved so much that they could swing around in some kind of shape without the line breaking to pieces.