“I knew it!” she exclaimed, jumping up and singing: “‘We are coming, we are coming, our Union to restore!’” “Oh, Elfie! Elfie! are you quite distracted?” exclaimed Erminie, in distress. “No, my dear, I am not ‘distracted;’ I am only _drafted_!” said Elfie. “Drafted!” exclaimed all, in a breath. “Yes, drafted, friends and fellow citizens!” “Elfie, you _are_ crazed,” said Erminie. “No, not ‘crazed’—_conscripted_! You always hit upon the right initial, but not on the right word!” replied Elfie. “You do not mean to say, in sober earnest, that you are _drafted_, Miss Fielding? Such a thing was never heard of! Women have enlisted, and have served; but always when disguised as men. I never in my life heard of a woman being drafted. Such an event would be impossible,” said Lieutenant Ethel. “‘Impossible!’ Lor!” mocked Elfie. “Are you so young and green as not to know impossible things constantly happen? And here is the proof in black and white.” “If that document is the official summons of a drafted man, it proves beyond a doubt that it was never intended for you,” urged the young officer. “For whom then?” mockingly inquired Elfie. “Why, of course, for some individual who was enrolled under that name.” “All right! I was the individual enrolled under that name.” “You, Elfie!” exclaimed all her companions, in a breath. “Yes—I, Elfie. Now, if you will all stop exclaiming and gesticulating, I’ll explain.” “Do so, then.” “Well, you know, last June, when the enrolling officers were going round?” “Yes,” said Erminie. “The day they came here no one was at home but myself and the servants. You, Erminie, were at the hospitals, and my pap was with General Hooker. So I was keeping house that morning, when there came a peremptory ring at the bell. Old Bob, as usual, answered it, and then came to me with a scared face, saying there were two ‘ossifer gemmen’ at the door, asking for the head of the family.” “Well?” “I was the vice-head, and so I went out to see what was wanted. There stood the two enrolling officers, with the big books and stumpy pens. I knew what they were at a glance. They looked tired and heated that warm summer day, so I invited them to sit down and rest in that cool, shady porch, which they did; when this sort of talk came off: “‘How many male adults are there belonging to this house?’ inquired the spokesman. “‘Three or four in all,’ I said. “‘Name them if you please.’ “‘First, then, there is the Reverend Justin Rosenthal.’ “He began to take that name down. “‘But then he sailed for India two years ago, and it is feared he is lost at sea,’ I went on. “He stayed his hand, and looked annoyed, but then said: “‘Go on. Who else?’ “‘Well, then there is Benoni Fielding.’ “Away he went scribbling at that name. “‘He is with General Hooker’s army,’ I continued. “He snatched up his hand impatiently, exclaiming: “‘Then of course we don’t want his name. Who else?’ “‘Robert Snowflake,’ I answered.