The day following the short, but sanguinary engagement at Chantilly, the remaining companies of the regiment, not detached for the above mentioned sad duty, marched to Alexandria and encamped near the regiment's old quarters of the preceding winter. While in camp an incident occurred that came near breaking up the regimental organization. During the Peninsula and Bull Run campaigns the regiment had become reduced in numbers to scarcely one-fourth of its original strength, and as a consequence an order was issued directing the consolidation of the regiment with the 99th Pennsylvania Volunteers, which was a comparatively new organization, had seen but little field service and had but recently been assigned to the brigade. The news of this order caused the most intense feeling, the men declaring that "having received from Governor Curtin their colors when they were returned to the state capital they would return with them." Major Birney was still absent, having accompanied the remains of General Kearny to Newark, New Jersey. Chaplain McAdam immediately visited Washington, interviewed the Secretary of War, put himself in communication with Governor Curtin and soon brought to us the good news that the order had been countermanded. Chaplain McAdam's success in this important undertaking gave him great popularity in the regiment, if, indeed, his popularity could be increased, for from the first organization of the regiment the chaplain had a warm place in the esteem and confidence of the men, irrespective of rank or condition. The regiment had not been visited by its paymaster since some time before the Seven Days' battle. As a consequence few if any were the possessors of a "greenback." This alone was aggravating, but when our proximity to Alexandria brought us daily visits by numerous hucksters of fruit and gingerbread, not to mention real and toothsome pie, the aggravation was intensified to a degree unbearable. This reached the climax when on a certain occasion a wagon load of watermelons was deliberately driven into camp and displayed on the parade ground. The vender of this luxury, however, demanded a price that no sixteen dollar soldier of "Uncle Sam" could think of paying. The temptation to enjoy the luscious fruit was too great. One of the boys, disregarding the admonitions of a home-cultured conscience which he still cherished, picked up a melon and walked off with it to his quarters. The huckster followed to collect pay or to recover his property, but alas! his efforts to reclaim the lost melon left the remainder unguarded, and he returned to his wagon only to find the last one gone and his wagon empty. Gone, doubtless, in the way of all good melons in an army camp.