"Perhaps I shouldn't say that, for I'm striving for something better. You know I'm not altogether astray on horseback, and can ride, I believe, better than I can walk, which perhaps is not saying much; and old Copp, our night-watchman, who was sergeant-major during the Mexican war, and considered one of the best swordsmen in his corps, is teaching me sabre exercise, and if I only pass a fair examination at Trenton, I shall get a commission as lieutenant, I hope." "No fear but you'll make the effort. So it goes: spondee, dactyl and anapest avaunt, and our nose now is continually in Jomini, or Cavalry Tactics, I'll warrant. That's our game now, my unappreciated genius, is it?" Mark smiled at his old friend's banter, for the inconstant had indeed given the Muses the cold shoulder, to pay his devoirs to fierce Bellona. He even left uncompleted a stirring ode suited to the hour, entitled THE FASCES, destined to illuminate the columns of the _Belton Sentinel_, and which might have established his reputation as a second Korner. And wonderful was the zeal with which he set about qualifying himself for his new vocation. At break of day he was off scouring the roads on some mettlesome steed to acquire a perfect seat, and the evenings he spent practising sword-cuts and "moulinets" with old Copp, or poring over some volume on the art of war (which, to say the truth, proved of but little practical value to him), till long past midnight. Thanks to his perseverance, he soon had a smattering of the rudiments of the profession of arms sufficient to enable him to pass an examination. This and a little of his brother's political influence, secured him a lieutenantcy in the volunteer cavalry.