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 hastened through to the gate. The men finally had settled to work. They were in all stages of undress: some of them were washing their faces and handkerchiefs and shirts at the watering troughs, some were shaving, some were sitting and polishing their jacket buttons with their "buff sticks," which held each button in a slot while rag and powder were used; some were shining their buckles, or whitening their cross-*belts with soap-stone, or cleaning their shoes; and a number had their muskets apart and were scouring the rust and dirt from locks, barrels and bayonets.

Pompey was hard at it on the outfits of Lieutenant Smith and Lieutenant Grant.

"Where you gwine, stripes?" he demanded. "'Peahs laike you drummers ain't got nothin' to do. I shuah'd laike to jine the music. Jest tootle an' thumpity-thump while we-all work. Where you gwine now, so importinent? Mebbe Santy Anne done sent fo' you to s'render."

"Mind you shine those buttons or you'll get a whaling," Jerry answered. "I'll be back to inspect."

"You go 'long, stripes," growled Pompey. "I ain't no sojer. I'se with the offercers. Who you, to be so uppity? All stripes an' no rank; that you!"

With Tom, Jerry hurried out.

"Pobrecitos! Aqui, pobrecitos—here, poor little boys," the kind-hearted women greeted, inviting them to eat. But they had no time for that if they wished to see the town.

Somehow, the people of Amozoc were overcordial to an enemy. The North Americans were invading their country—at Cerro Gordo probably had killed Volunteers from this very place; and yet the