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 laundress about you, when I have opportunity. Are you willing to scrub clothes in a tub?"

"No," Jerry declared honestly. "I think I'd rather join the army and help fight. Are you a general?"

"I?" The young officer acted astonished. "Not yet. I'm only Second Lieutenant Grant. I'm about as far from being a general as you are."

"But you're fighting, anyway."

"Not very fiercely, at present. The artillery is doing the fighting. After the artillery has opened the way, then the infantry will have a chance."

"Well," said Jerry, "I guess I'd better be going on."

"Look here," spoke Lieutenant Grant. " I'll wager you're hungry. Aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"You see that tent at the end of the row?" And Lieutenant Grant pointed. "That's my quarters—mine and Lieutenant Sidney Smith's. You go there and you'll find a darky; or you'll find him if he isn't somewhere else. He's Smith's servant. You tell Pompey that Lieutenant Grant sent you to get something to eat. Then you can tidy up my things. I reckon," added Lieutenant Grant, stubbornly, as if to himself, "that I'll show Smith I can have a bodyguard as well as he can."

"And shall I stay there?" Jerry asked eagerly.

"You say you want to join the army. So if you're willing to play understudy to a mere second lieutenant instead of to a drum major, maybe we can come to some agreement. At any rate, go get a meal."

Jerry hustled for the tent. The flaps were open,