"Good boy!" exclaimed Tom Pringle; "here, take my molasses and water bottle—canteen, I mean, and pass round the tin plate for the Colonel!"
Amid high glee, every one bestowed a part of his provisions on Freddy until a sufficiently motley meal was collected; half of which he immediately offered again to his companions, who, of course, were quite ready to feel hungry too, and they all munched together, like a company of gypsies.
"I say, Capting," said a tall Yankee in a fur hat, to Peter, "what may yew calculate dewing on Long Island?"
"Why, we're going into camp, to be sure."
"Lors-a-massy! them air boys all alone by theirselves!" exclaimed an old countrywoman, carrying a large market basket, and wearing a great pair of brass-rimmed spectacles. "It beats all natur!"
"Yew ha'n't got no one to look arter you?" continued the tall Yankee.
"Certainly; here's our commanding officer, Col. Jourdain."
"Let me present Mr. ——," added Freddy, full of laugh, and highly enjoying the fun.
"Captin George Washington Kosciusko Peter Bonaparte Solomon Hopkins!" said the countryman, with an awkward bow; while the boys hardly dared to look at each other, they were so afraid of bursting out laughing at his ridiculous name. Its fortunate possessor, nothing abashed, went on, "But dew tell, wha—at on airth dew you call yourselves?"
"These, sir," replied Freddy, as grave as a judge, though his eyes sparkled with fun, "are the famous Dashahed Zouaves, First Regiment Long Island Volunteers; I am the Colonel, this is Major Schermerhorn, Captains Spicer, Chadwick, Livingston, and Boorman, Sergeant Pringle, and Adjutant Costar."