It is with raptures, my boy, that I record the promotion of Villiam Brown, Company 3, Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade, to the rank of Captain, with the privilege of spending half his time in New York, and the rest of it on Broadway. Villiam left the army of the Upper Potomac to pass his examination here, and the Board of Examiners report that he reminded them of Napoleon, and made them feel sorry for the Duke of Wellington. One of the questions they asked him was:
"Suppose your company was suddenly surrounded by a regiment of the enemy, and you had a precipice in your rear, and twenty-seven hostile batteries in front—what would you do?"
Villiam thought a moment, and then says he:
"I'd resign my commission, and write to my mother that I was coming home to die in the spring-time."
"Sensible patriot," says the Board. "Are you familiar with the history of General Scott?"
"You can bet on it," says Villiam, smiling like a sagacious angel; "General Scott was born in Virginia when he was quite young, and discovered Scotland at an early age. He licked the British in 1812, wrote the Waverly Novels, and his son Whahae bled with Wallace. Now, old hoss, trot out your commission and let's liquor."
"Pause, fair youth," says the Board. "What makes you think that General Scott had a son named 'Whahae'? We never heard that before."
"Ha!" says Villiam, agreeably, "that's because you don't know poickry. Why," says Villiam, "if you'll just turn to Burns' works, you'll learn that
"'Scot's wha' ha'e wi' Wallace bled,'
"and if that ain't good authority, where's your Shakspeare?"