Villiam drew his breath, and says he: "The United States of America, born on the Fourth of July, 1776, calls upon you to charge bayonets, Come on, my brave flowers of manhood!"
Here a fearless chap stepped out of the ranks, and says he: "In consequence of the heavy dew which fell this morning, the roads is impassable."
Villiam remained silent, my boy, and drooped his proud head. Could nothing induce those devoted patriots to strike for the forlorn hope? Suddenly, a glow of inspiration came over his face, he rose in his saddle like a flash, waved his sword toward the foe, and shouted—
"I know you now, my veterans! The day is hot, yonder lies our road, and—my peerless Napoleons," said Villiam, frenziedly:
"COME AND TAKE A DRINK!"
In an instant I was blinded with a cloud of dust, through which came the wild tramp and fierce hurrahs of Company 3, Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade. The appeal to their finer feelings had carried them by storm, and they charged like the double-extract of a compound avalanche. I was listening to their cheers as they drove the demoralized foe before them, when a political chap came riding post-haste from Paris, and says he:
"How many voters have fallen?"
Before I could answer him, my boy, the triumphant Mackerels came pouring in, just in time to meet the General of the Mackerel Brigade, who had just rode up from a village in the rear, with an umbrella over his head to keep off the sun.
"My children," says the general, kindly, as their shouts fell upon his ears, "you have sustained me nobly this day, and we will enjoy the thanks of our grateful country together. I thank you, my children."
Here the political chap threw up his hat, and says he: "Hurroar for the Union! My fellow-beings," says the political chap, glowingly, "I announce the idolized General of the Mackerel Brigade for President of the United States in 1865."