The reception of the colonel was now also gone through, and he rode in very stiff dignity, with his legs sticking out on each side of his steed, very much like a pair of open compasses, toward the line, with his peacock tail of a staff trailing behind him. Taking, then, his station, with his horse (tickled constantly by the spur) making uneasy motions, as if itching all over, he gave utterance to a few shouts, made hoarse for the occasion, which were followed by convulsions of carrying, presenting, and supporting arms, on the part of the soldiers, some together, and some not, just as it happened. Preparations were then made for the march to the village-green, where the exercises of the day were to take place. The music was all collected in front, and the order was given to wheel into platoons. Each man performed this manœuvre at his own time and “on his own responsibility,” and consequently such a fluttering took place as to throw the whole scene into confusion. The feat was, however, at last performed, the drums began to mark time—the men ditto, (after a fashion,) and the order from the colonel was, “by platoons, march!” the last word uttered with most tremendous emphasis. The order was taken up and sent along from company to company in every variety of tone, from a growl to a squeak, ending at last like a faint echo at the extremity of the array. The whole regiment then moved, the drums still keeping up their preliminary tapping. At length the music burst out into a terrific explosion of sound, and onward marched the martial pageant. The sight was ludicrous enough. Some had started with the right foot foremost, and were entangling their legs in the most unjustifiable way, with those of their neighbors, endeavoring to change to the left foot; some, owing to the extreme tightness of their belts, (these were principally in the uniform companies,) hitched along as if their hips went on rusty hinges, and others, owing either to the want of a musical ear, or recklessness, sauntered along in their natural gait, which didn’t happen to suit the air, and consequently carried disorder along the whole rank. In the former class was a little irascible-looking fellow, who, starting the wrong way and endeavoring to get right, and who being met in his efforts at precisely the wrong times by a lank genius next him, kept hopping testily from one foot to the other, whilst his companion did the same at alternate moments, until the legs of both went backward and forward like a quick cat’s-cradle. On swept the array, the colonel looking sterner than forty Napoleons on a field of battle. Conspicuous in the front rank of “the music” was Joe Lippett, chinning his fife, whilst amidst a row of drums came my friend with the red feather, working his mouth in the most emphatic manner, and looking down upon his instrument as if he thought that the withdrawal of his eyes would cause an instant paralysis of his sticks.