When the rallied Brigade came whooping back upon the enemy, ten minutes after, who should be in front tearing up the hill, leading the charge, but the gallant Captain, yelling like everything, and still waving that frying pan, to cheer on his men. More gallant charge was never led, with gleaming sword, than was this, led with that Texas frying pan. At the time we were getting our guns around to fire upon the enemy inside the works, as the retiring Texans were falling back past us, Dr. Carter stepped quickly out, and in his courteous manner, called out to them, "Gentlemen, dear gentlemen, I hope that you are not running." A passing infantryman, a gaunt, unwashed, ragged chap, replied, "Never you mind, old fellow! We are just dropping back to get to 'em." "I beg your pardon," retorted the Doctor, "but if you want to _get to them_, you ought to _turn round_; they are not the way you are going." They passed on, and the fight took place. When it was over we noticed that the Doctor was very much vexed about something. We asked what was the matter? He said, "Never mind!" We insisted on his saying what disturbed him so. At last, he said "Well, I don't see why, because men are in the army, they should not observe the amenities customary among gentlemen." "Well," we said, "that is all right; but why do you say it?" "Why!" he warmly said; "did you hear that dirty, ragged infantryman call me an old fellow? A most disrespectful way to address a gentleman!" All the row of the fight had not put it out of the Doctor's mind, and he brooded over it for some time. He never did get used to the lack of "amenities" and he always had an humble opinion of that unknown Texan, who did not observe the form of address customary among gentlemen. The Doctor himself always followed his own rule; he was as courteous in manner, and civil in speech, as "observant of the amenities" in the thick of a fight, as in his own parlor.