CHAPTER II. ORDERED TO WASHINGTON.

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AMP life was pleasant, aside from the perpetual drilling, marching and countermarching. Friends had access to the boys at stated times, little gifts and pledges were exchanged, and the time passed swiftly. One day there was great excitement. Coffee was swallowed hastily, knapsacks were packed in a hurry, arms were brightened up, ammunition was dealt out, and the word ran through the camp—“We are ordered to report at Washington.”

“Now I shall know something of what is going on. Poor mother, she will grieve over her absent boy, and fancy me in a thousand dangers. But I will write to her often, that will cheer her up.”

And he did. Many a line he scribbled on his knee with a bit of pencil or a blackened stick, telling her of his safety and health. These short but welcome missives were read over and over, and fondly kissed, the dear little messengers of love and hope.

The war cloud was growing darker. The government arsenal at Harper's Ferry had been burned by Lieutenant Jones, who knew it would lessen its value to the Southern forces, who were marching upon the town. The latter, however, saved considerable of the government property, and next seized the bridge at Point of Rocks, thus circumventing General Butler, who was near Baltimore. They also took possession of several trains, which they side-tracked into Strasburg, a measure which helped the Confederate train service in Virginia very perceptibly.

The ride of the boys in blue to Washington lay through the mountains of West Virginia, where nature revels in grand surprises. Many a little cabin perched far up the hillside was the home of those who had shed tears when old John Brown was led forth to die. Poor and scanty though their daily fare was, they were loyal and true, and the spirit of defiance to the old flag found no echoes in their breasts.