Sarah looked at the General, who nodded his head vigorously.
"Yes, you may wear them," Sarah said. "They belonged to your little great-aunt, Katherine Haines, who died sixty years ago."
"Poor little great-aunt," said May, looking sad and touching the fine India muslin frock reverently.
But May's pensive mood did not last. Seizing the General's walking stick she took the soldier's position, arms at a carry, and in an excellent imitation of the General's manner, shouted,——
"Fire as by single rank. Ready, aim, fire!"
These commands she executed with great spirit amid applause from the audience. Then the General put her through several motions and when drill was over she paused before him, and asked,—
"Which way do you like me best, Uncle Harold—as a boy or a girl?"
The General opened his arms and May leaped into them. Then the hater of petticoats laid his bearded cheek against May's soft, young face and said,—
"I wouldn't exchange my little girl for all the boys in the world!"