“Certainly—see the beauty of repetition in poetry.”
And looking at the damsel, I began to repeat—
“Katy! Katy!
Don’t marry any other!
You’ll break my heart, and kill me dead,
And then be hanged for murder!”
The amount of blushing, laughter, pouting, good humor, and hilarity generally, which this poem occasioned, was charming. In a few minutes we were all seated again on the grassy bank, and Tom had given me a history of his adventures, which had not been either numerous or remarkable. He had been assigned to duty on the staff of General Fitzhugh Lee, and it was delightful to hear his enthusiasm on the subject of that gay and gallant officer.
“I tell you he’s a trump, old fellow,” quoth Tom, with ardor. “He’s as brave as steel, a first-rate officer, a thorough gentleman, generous, kind, and as jolly as a lark! Give me Fitz Lee to fight with, or march with, or hear laugh! He was shot in the Valley, and I have been with him in Richmond. In spite of his wound, which is a severe one, he is as gay as the sunshine, and it would put you in good spirits only to go into his chamber!”
“I know General Fitz well, Tom,” I replied, “and you are right about him; every word you say is true, and more to boot, old fellow. So you are cruising around now, waiting for your chief to recover?”
“Exactly, my dear Surry.”
“And have captured the barque Katy!”
“Humph!” quoth Miss Katy, tossing her head, with a blush and a laugh.
“Beware of pirates,” I said, “who make threats even in their verses,—and now tell me, Miss Katy, if you are on a visit to Petersburg? It will give me true pleasure to come and see you.”