“I can surround a frankfurter,” Pee-wee shouted. Believe me, he could.
Harry said, “The cavalry will dismount; you’re all court-martialed and ordered to be shot at sunrise in the shooting gallery. Fall in line.”
Jiminies, I had to laugh to see that bunch trotting along after the autos, all the while munching frankfurters. I guess we were the craziest looking parade that ever was; but you can have a lot of fun being crazy, that’s one thing sure. All the people stopped what they were doing and followed after us. Most of the things that they were doing were eating. I wouldn’t stop doing that for anybody, I wouldn’t.
All around were veterans in old blue coats and they were sitting in groups talking; they were talking about Gettysburg and Richmond, and General Grant, and things like that. One of them was talking about Sugar Loaf Mountain and Pee-wee kind of slowed up so as he could listen. I guess he thought it was some kind of candy, hey? Harry looked around and shouted, “Attention!” And the kid jumped about a foot in the air.
Pretty soon we came to a little tent and there was a sign on it that said, “Administration Tent.”
Pee-wee shouted, “Go on, till we come to the commissary tent.”
I shouted back to him, “You’re a whole commissary in yourself. You’re a nice looking sight to demand a surrender. The first thing you want to seize is a wash basin!”
Sitting in front of that tent were several veterans and one of them was kind of cross and severe looking and he had a bald head. His head was so bald that I guess he didn’t know where to stop washing his face. You couldn’t even tell where his face was unless he put his hat on. He looked as if he was used to bossing people around. Anyway, I knew he was a Union soldier, because he had a telegram in his hand and it said Western Union on it.
We all stopped right in front of the tent and Harry got down and made a salute; it was awful funny. He said, “Major Grumpy, I believe?”
“That is my name, sir,” the old man said, very stern, kind of like a school principal.