'His hue is the most terrible That ever man has seen; 'Tis pink and saffron, blue and red, Mixed up with apple green'." "Dear me!" cried Jimmieboy. "And do you mean to say he's really got away?" "I do, indeed," returned the colonel. "Got away, and Noah is glad of it, because he doesn't have to feed him any more. But it'll never do to let him stay loose; he will do too much damage. Why, Jimmieboy, suppose he should overeat himself and die? He's the only one in the world, and we can't afford to lose an animal like that; besides, after he has ruined all the country around the turn, it's just as like as not he'll begin on the rest of the picture, and eat it all up, frame and all." "My!" cried the little boy. "That would be terrible, wouldn't it! You are right--he must be captured. I have half a mind to go along with you and help." "Half a mind isn't enough," retorted the colonel, shaking his head. "You can't go into the soldier business unless you have a whole mind--so good-by, Jimmieboy. I must be running along; and should I not return, as the poet says, 'Pray do not weep for me, my boy, But, as the years slip by, Drop all your pennies in a bank-- Brave soldiers never die; And some day I'll turn up again, Exalted, high in rank, And possibly I'll find some use For that small sum in bank.'" "I'm not going to stay here while you are fighting," said Jimmieboy, with a determined shake of his head. "I've got a whole mind to go with you, and a uniform to wear as well. But tell me, can I get up there on the road?" "Certainly," said the colonel. "I'll show you how, only put on your uniform first. They won't let you go unless you are suitably dressed. Little boys, with striped trousers like yours, would be out of place, but with a uniform such as yours is, with real gold on the cap and brass buttons on the coat--well, I'm not sure but what they'll elect you water-carrier, or general, or something equally important." So Jimmieboy hurried to his clothes-closet and quickly donned his military suit, and grasping his sword firmly by the hilt, cried out: "Ready!" "All right," said the colonel. "They are waiting for us. Close your eyes." Jimmieboy did as he was told. "One--two--three--eyes open!" cried the colonel.