Co. Q was in a ferment over the wedding, with everybody eager to do something to help make it a grand success, and to fill the hearts of the other companies with envy. The first and greatest problem was to provide the bridegroom with a uniform in which to be married. The Quartermaster's wagons were no one knew exactly where, but certainly a day or more back on the road, and no one had started out on the campaign with any extra clothing. Shorty, who considered himself directly responsible for the success of the affair, was for awhile in despair. He was only deterred from stealing a pair of the Colonel's trousers by the timely thought that it would, after all, be highly improper for a private to be wearing a pair of pantaloons with a gold cord. Then he resolved to make a sacrifice of himself. He was the nearest Nate's proportions of any man in the company, and he had drawn a new pair of trousers just before starting on the march. They had as yet gotten very slightly soiled. He went to the spring and laboriously washed them until they were as bright as new, and, after they were dried, insisted on Nate trading pantaloons with him. A new blouse was more readily found, and as readily contributed by its owner. Si freely gave up his sole extra shirt, and another donated a pair of reserve shoes. The Adjutant came in with a McClellan cap. When the company barber cut Nate's long hair, and shaved him, he was arrayed in his wedding uniform, and as Si had given him a little drill in holding him self erect, he was as presentable a soldier as could be found in the regiment, and quite as proud of himself as the boys of Co. Q were of him. Then an other despairing thought struck Shorty:
"'Tain't right," he communed with Si and the rest, "that the bridegroom should have all the good clothes. The bride should have the boss togs o' the two. If we was only back near Nashville she should have a layout that'd out-rag the Queen o' Sheby, if it took every cent there was in the company. But I don't suppose you could buy a yard o' kaliker or a stitch o' finery within 50 miles o' this clayknob."
"What we might do," said Si reflectively, "would be to give her her trowso futuriously, so to speak. We've just bin paid off, and hain't had no chance to spend our money, so that all the boys has some. Every one o' 'em 'll be glad to give a dollar, which you kin hand her in a little speech, tellin' her that we intended to present her with her trowso, but circumstances over which we had no control, mainly the distance to a milliner shop, prevented, but we would hereby present her with the means to git it whenever convenient, and she could satisfy herself much better by picking it out her ownself. You want to recollect that word trowso. It's the elegant thing for a woman's wedding finery, and if you use it you'll save yourself from mentioning things that you don't know nothin' about, and probably oughtn't to mention. My sisters learned it to me. A girl who'd bin at boarding-school learned them."
"Good idee," said Shorty, slapping his leg. "I'll go right out and collect a dollar from each of the boys. Say that word over agin, till I git it sure."
Shorty came back in a little while with his hands full of greenbacks "Every boy ponied right up the moment I spoke to him," he said. "And the Captain and Adjutant each gave $5. She's got money enough to buy out the best milliner shop in this part o' Tennessee."
Next came thoughts of a wedding-supper for the bride's friends. The Colonel took the view that the large number of recruits which he expected to gain justified him in ordering the Commissary to issue a liberal quantity of rations. Two large iron wash-kettles were scoured out one used to make coffee in and the other to boil meat, while there was sugar and hardtack in abundance. The mountains were covered with royal blooms of rhododendron, and at the Adjutant's suggestion enough of these were cut to fill every nook and corner of the main room of the house, hiding the rough logs and dark corners with masses of splendid color, much to the astonish ment of the bride, who had never before thought of rhododendrons as a feature of house adornment.
Then, just before 6 o'clock roll-call, Co. Q, with every man in it cleaned up as for dress-parade, with Nathan Hartburn at the head, supported on either side by Si and Shorty, and flanked by the Adjutant and Chaplain, marched up the hill to the house, led by the fifers and drummers, playing the reveille, "When the Cruel War is Over," "Yankee Doodle," and everything else in their limited repertory which they could think as at all appropriate to the occasion. The rest of the regiment, with most of the officers, followed after.
The Chaplain took his place in front of the rhododendron-filled fireplace. The bride and groom stood before him, with Si and Shorty in support. All of Co. Q crowded into the room, and the rest looked through the windows and doors. The Chaplain spoke the words which made the young couple man and wife, and handed them a certificate to that effect. Shorty then advanced, with his hand full of greenbacks, and said:
"Missis Hartburn: Co. Q of the 200th Ind., of which you are now a brevet member, has appointed me to present their congratulations. We extend to you the right hand of fellership of as fine a crowd o' soldiers as ever busted caps on any field of battle. We're very glad to have your young husband with us. We'll take care of him, treat him right, and bring him back to you crowned with the laurels of victory. You just bet your life we will. That's our way o' doin' things. Madam, Co. Q very much wished to present you with a trou— trou— tro— what is that blamed word, Si?"
"Trowso," whispered Si—