Oleah had been exchanged at last and had joined his company, leaving his young wife to use all gentle endeavor to comfort and cheer the father and mother, who watched with sorrowful anxiety the movements of both armies.
CHAPTER XXVI. ANOTHER PHASE OF SOLDIER LIFE.
A long line of muddy wagons, and a longer line of muddy soldiers was moving southward. It was one of those dark, cold, rainy days in March, when the elements above, the earth beneath, the winds about, seem to conspire to make man miserable, and surely no men could have looked more miserable than the long line of muddy soldiers. Some were mounted, but the largest number by far were infantry and plodded along on foot. Various were the moods of the soldiers. Some were gay, singing, laughing, telling jokes; others were silent and morose, complaining and cursing their hard lot. The latter class were termed professional "growlers" by their comrades. One light-hearted fellow declared that any one, who would complain at their lot, would be capable of grumbling at the prospect of being hanged.
A fine, persistent rain had been falling nearly all day, and the men were cold and wet and tired plodding through the mud.
Two soldiers were toiling along behind an ammunition wagon, one with the stripes of corporal on his sleeves, the other a private.
"I don't mind fighting or being shot," said the private, a young man and evidently a new recruit, "but the idea of a man's dragging himself apart and scattering the pieces along in the mud in this fashion is decidedly disagreeable."
"No danger of that," said his companion, who was no other than the irrepressible Corporal Grimm.
"Isn't, eh? I tell you my legs are coming unjointed at the knees, and I'll soon be going on the stumps."