In the afternoon the captain formed us in the street and drilled us in the manual, then took us down on the field and explained battalion parade, after which he put us through and through and through its simple evolutions, we blundering all the time. We had merely to march in line, to march in column, to halt and bring our rifles down together, and to do the customary movements of the manual in unison. But try as we might, we couldn't please the captain. For my part, I was as scared as a schoolboy, fearing to make some slip. But such little ones as I know I made passed unnoticed; in fact, our part of the line attracts very little of his attention, so I conclude we do fairly well. Yet in the picture which I send, of the captain looking at our squad as we march company front, the camera has caught Squad 8 in a great mistake. The sun, as it lies exactly along the line of the company, with only the right hands and knees in full light, shows my part of the line pushed wholly forward out of the shadow, and the Captain looking at us in disgust. His attitude shows his fighting quality. "The scrappiest captain in the army," says Knudsen. So often he has to look back thus and warn us: "Steady!" or "Guide!" or "Hold back on the left!" How little you as a spectator would get of what goes on in the ranks on such an occasion as today's final parade! Suppose you were where I so often wish you, at the top of the slope above the field, which in spite of certain unevennesses would look to you fairly level. You would see the band march down and take its place in the left corner; then away to your right the companies would appear in their separate columns, and perhaps you would think they were very interesting as they halted and waited. Then when the major came and took his stand below you, the music would strike up, and the three companies would march straight onto the field, along the bottom of which they would one after another swing into line and stand in apparently beautiful order. Then an adjutant with a clear high voice would give orders, and the men would present arms, come to attention, and then to parade rest. In this position they would remain while the band, playing a march, would go down the whole line and back again, the music, when they were once more in place, abruptly stopping. Then the officers would gather and march forward in line, they would return, the major would call a command, and the companies would all break into squads, the rifles coming to the shoulders. To the right they would pass, turn up the slope, and then one by one would again swing into line and pass, with more or less beautifully wavering fronts, before the major. The first two companies would evoke applause from the spectators; the third, in which you would see a familiar face, would rouse none--and though you might clap your best, in this case you are but a ghost, and no one would hear you. Then the companies would for last time break into