I have lingered at that farmhouse gate, at the top of the hill, in this story, very much longer than we did in reality. In fact we didn't linger there at all. Didn't have a chance! For, the moment we came in sight, at that gate leading into the farmhouse, an officer came dashing out from amongst the troops of cavalry, and galloped across the field toward us. The instant this horseman got out of the crowd, we recognized him. That long waving feather, the long auburn beard, that easy, graceful seat on the swift horse,--that was "J. E. B." Stuart, and nobody else! He rode up to the foremost group of us, and pulled up his horse. With bright, pleasant, smiling face, he returned our hearty salute with a touch of his hat, and a cheerful, "Good morning, boys! glad to see you. What troops are these?" "Richmond Howitzers, Longstreet's Corps." "_Good!_ anybody else along?" "Infantry close behind." "Good! Well, boys, I'm _very_ glad to see you. I've got a little job for you, right now, all waiting for you." Just then the Captain rode up and saluted. "Captain," said the General, saluting pleasantly, "Draw our guns through the gate and stop. I'll want you in ten minutes." And, away he galloped, back toward the cavalry. The guns pulled in through the gate and halted as they were, on the road leading to the house, close by the cavalry. We seized this sudden chance to see our old friends among the troopers. In every direction our fellows might be seen darting in among the horses, in search of our friends. Loud and hearty were the shouts of greeting as we recognized, or were seen by, those we sought or unexpectedly lighted on. Brothers, met and embraced. Friends greeted friends. Old schoolmates, who had, three years ago, parted at the schoolroom, locked eager, and loving hands, and asked after others, and told what they could. It was a delightful and touching scene, that meeting there on the edge of a bloody field! they coming out, we going in. There were jokes, and laughs, and cheerful words, but, the hand-clasps were very tight, the sudden uprising of tender feelings, at the sight of faces, and the sound of voices, we had not seen nor heard for years, and that we might see and hear no more. The memories of home, or school, and boyhood, suddenly brought back, by the faces linked with them, made the tears come, and the words very kind, and the tones very gentle.