"Here's your new side-partner, Bill," said the captain.
Bill stooped down, and down and down until his hands rested on his ankles and peered into the boy's face carefully.
"Why, captain," said he, "he ain't much taller than the drum."
"Little man, can you really drum?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," said the boy. "I used to drum for Captain Hill in Tennessee. I am nearly ten years old and I want the place."
The fifer straightened himself up slowly, placed his fife at his mouth and commenced to play "The Flowers of the Forest," one of the most difficult pieces to follow on the drum. The little chap accompanied him without a mistake and when he had finished began a perfect fusillade of rolls and calls and rallies which came so fast that they sounded like a volley of musketry. When the noise had finally died out, the captain turned to his mother and said:
"Madam, I'll take that boy. He isn't much bigger than a minute but he certainly can drum."
The woman kissed the boy and nearly broke down.
"You'll surely bring him back to me, captain," she said.
"Sure," said the captain; "we'll all be discharged in about six weeks."