A new excitement took possession of him. Strange talk came to his ears, and his little round eyes glistened with delight from behind his glasses, and his little round lips parted with smiles of pleasure. War on a gigantic scale--a new Nation, with new men at its head--was the all-absorbing topic. The Union was shattered, and a new Nation was rising out of the ruins and fragments of the old. Mr. Diggs concluded to espouse the cause of the new Nation. He would raise a company of volunteers to fight its battles; he would be captain. From captain he would be promoted for his bravery to colonel, from colonel to brigadier-general, or commander-in-chief. Mr. Diggs' fertile imagination planned a glorious future for himself. Other men had risen from obscurity to renown, and why not he? He strutted about with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, reveling already in his future greatness. The new and powerful Nation was his all-absorbing theme. When he met any one he would say: "Well, what's the news, and what's the prospect of war?" The prospect was very good, every one thought. One day, talking with a young man about his own age, but cooler and less blood-thirsty, Mr. Diggs said they were too slow about fighting. Since the surrender of Twiggs in Texas no other event had transpired, and such indifference was monstrous. "Don't be in a hurry, Diggs," said his friend. "Let them have time for consideration." "There's no need of consideration. I am ready now. I will go, like Marion, to avenge my country's wrongs," said Diggs. "This is war against our own countrymen," said his friend, "and I don't think there is any place in either rank for me." "There is a place for me," said Diggs, strutting about with his hands in his pockets and expectorating profusely. "My country needs me, and I reckon there's a place for me." "Will you take a colonelcy to commence with?" his friend asked, with a smile. "I don't expect a colonelcy at first," said Diggs. "I want to start at the foot of the ladder, as captain, and gradually rise until I am commander-in-chief." "You would make such a noble-looking general!" said a bystander, surveying the fat little fellow. "You can talk, Howard Jones, but I--hem! hem!--have always had a taste for military life." "You would make such a fine-looking commander," said Jones. "Mounted on a tall charger you would yourself strike terror to the enemy." "I can prove that all generals were small men," said Diggs, strutting about. "Of course they were; but you--you would kill all your enemies. They would die with laughter when they saw a general on a horse seventeen hands high, looking like a bug on a log." "Oh, talk sense, Jones." "On a big war-horse you would look very much like a bug on a log," said Jones. "But wouldn't it be grand for Crazy Joe's mud man to turn out a general?"