commendation of their commander, who knew how to praise as well as blame, made amends for seeming harshness. [Illustration: GENERAL O. M. MITCHELL. (From Harper's Magazine.) Page 11.] As I watched the working-parties, my attention was attracted to one strong-looking soldier who was obviously shirking. Before many minutes General Mitchel saw him too. The man pretended to lift and work, while really doing nothing, and thus became a great hindrance, for his example was contagious. Stealthily the general stole towards him, and when I saw him take a piece of rotten wood in his hand I looked for a scene. It came. He dealt the idler a sudden blow that covered him all over with rotten wood, and nearly took him from his feet, but did him no real injury. The fellow turned furiously to avenge himself on his assailant, but stood abashed when he saw the face of his commander, and heard the exclamation, "Go to work, you lazy rascal!" The spectators enjoyed the man's look of blank amazement greatly, and the work went forward more promptly than ever. But in a few moments the tables were turned. Large framed masses of timber were first floated near the position they were to occupy in the bridge, at the end of the trestle-work, and then, with ropes and pulleys, were slowly and painfully hoisted into place. One of these was approaching the perpendicular, and the general, in his eagerness, ran to the end of a log, which extended over the water, and began to encourage the laborers by loud cries of, "Heave, O! heave, O!" as they pulled at the ropes. Another party of workmen passed by the shore end of the log on which Mitchel stood, carrying a load of timber. Just as they reached the log,--the lazy man among them, now lifting as much as any other,--I could not see just how it was done, but probably by a quick motion of the foot, the general's log was turned so suddenly that he had no choice but to plunge in the water. I expected a fearful explosion of indignation, and perhaps the summoning of a guard to arrest the offender, but was greatly surprised to see Mitchel, as soon as the splash enabled me to see at all, stand up in the water, which was not more than two feet deep, and without even turning towards the shore, continue calling, "Heave, O! heave, O!" as vigorously as ever. There was some laughing, but the soldiers had great respect for such coolness and presence of mind. The general made no effort to discover the author of his sudden immersion, though he must have known that it was not accidental. "'Old Stars' can take a joke," was the approving remark of a soldier close to my side.