When the presentation was finished, the colonel announced from his camp-bedstead that the rumor of a fight at Alexandria was all a hum, and ordered us back to our tents. We hadn't been to our tents for such a long time, that some of us couldn't find them, and one of our boys actually wandered around until he found himself at home in New York.

The Mackerel Brigade, my boy, had a great engagement yesterday, and came very near repulsing the enemy. We were ordered to march forward in three columns, until we came within five miles of the enemy, Colonel Wobbles leading the first; Mr. Wobbles, the second; and Wobbles, the third. In the advance our lines presented the shape of a clam-shell, but as we neared the point of danger, they gradually assumed more of the form of a cone, the rear-guard being several times as thick as the advance guard. When within six miles of the seceshers, we planted our battery of four six pounders, and opened a horrible fire of shot and shell on the adjacent country. The seceshers replied with a hail of canister and shrapnell, and for eight hours the battle raged fearfully, but without hurting anybody, as the hostile forces were too far apart to reach each other with shot. Finally, Colonel Wobbles sent a messenger, by railroad, to ask the seceshers what they wanted, and they said they only wanted to be let alone. On receiving this reply, Colonel Wobbles was much affected, and ordered us to march back to camp, which we did.

This affair was really a great victory for the Union, my boy, and I cannot refrain from giving short biographical sketches of the leaders concerned in it, commencing with

COLONEL WOBBLES.

This gallant officer, on whom the eyes of the whole world are now turned, was born at an exceedingly early age, in the place of his nativity. When but a mere boy, he evinced a fondness for the law, and his father, who was his mother's husband, placed him in the office of the late Daniel Webster. He practised law for some years, but failed to find any clients, and finally started a grocery store under Jackson's administration. At this time, Calhoun's peculiar views were agitating Christendom, and Mr. Wobbles married a daughter of the late John Thomas, by whom he had no children. When the war broke out in Mexico, he left the grocery business, and opened a liquor store on the estate of the late J. Smith, and accumulated sufficient money to send his family into the country. Colonel Wobbles is now about eighty-five years old.

MR. WOBBLES.

This heroic young officer, now attracting so much attention, drew his first breath among the peaceful scenes of home, from which the captious might have augured anything but a soldier's destiny for him. While yet very young, he was remarkable for his proficiency in making dirt-pies, and went to school with the sons of the late Mr. Jones. In 1846, he did not graduate at West Point; but when the war broke out between Mexico and the United States, he married a niece of the late Daniel Webster. It was also at this period of his eventful career that he first became a husband, and shortly after the birth of his eldest child, it was rumored that he had also become a father. He entered the present war as a military man. He is now but forty years old.

WOBBLES.

This noble patriot soldier, whose name is now a household word all over the world, was reared from infancy in the village of his birth, and took a prominent part in the meals of his family. While yet a youth, the Florida war broke out, and he attended the high-school of the late Mr. Brown. On arriving of age, he was just twenty-one years old, and was not a student at West Point. Shortly after this event, he married a cousin of the late Daniel Webster, and during the Mexican War he had one child, who still bears his father's name. Wobbles is now sixty years old.

You will observe, my boy, that these noble officers have merited the commissions of brigadier-generals, and if they don't get them they'll resign. Colonel Wobbles told me this morning, that if he resigned the army would all go to pieces. I believe him, my boy!—field pieces.