THANKSGIVING IN CAMP.
St. John's College stands on a beautiful eminence overlooking the city. The college, like the naval school, had been broken up by the rebellion; its halls and dormitories were appropriated to government uses, and the regiment was removed thither the next day.
"You will be surprised," Frank wrote home, "to hear that I have been through the naval school since I came here, and that I am now in college."
Few boys get through college as quick as he did. On the following day the regiment abandoned its new quarters also, and encamped two miles without the city. In the afternoon the tents were pitched; and where was only a barren field before, arose in the red sunset light the canvas city, with its regular streets, its rows of tent doors opening upon them, and its animated, laughing, lounging, working inhabitants.
The next morning was fine. All around the camp were pleasant growths of pine, oak, gum, and persimmon trees, and now and then a tree festooned with wild grape-vines. Near by were a few scattered ancient-looking farm-houses, with their out-door chimneys, dilapidated out-buildings, negro huts, and tobacco fields. There were several other regiments in the vicinity,—two of Massachusetts boys. And there the New York Zouaves, in their beautiful Oriental costumes, were encamped. Frank climbed a tree, and looked far around on the picturesque and warlike scene. The pickets, which had gone out the night before, now returning, discharged their loaded pieces at targets, the reports blending musically with the near and distant roll of drums.
"What is the cheering for?" asked Frank, as he came in that day from a ramble in the woods.
"For General Burnside," said Gray. "All the troops rendezvousing at Annapolis are to be under his command, to be called the Coast Division. It is to be another Great Armada; and our colonel thinks we shall see fighting soon."
This good news had made the regiment almost wild with joy; for it desired nothing so much as to be led against the enemy by some brave and famous general.
Frank loved the woods; and the next day he induced his companions to go with him and hunt for nuts and fruits. Although it was late in autumn, there were still persimmons and wild grapes to be had, and walnuts, and butternuts. But Frank had another object in view than that of simply pleasing his appetite. Thanksgiving day, which is bred in the bones of the New Englander, and which he carries with him every where, was at hand, and the drummer boy had thought of something which he fancied would suit well the festal occasion.
"What are you there after?" said John Winch, from a persimmon tree; "filling your hands with all that green stuff. Come here; O, these little plums are delicious, I tell you."