"Must belong to the Army o' the Potomac," mused Shorty, studying the picture. "They wear all sorts o' outlandish uniforms there. That red- headed woodpecker'd be shot before he'd git a mile o' the rebels out here. All that hollyhock business'd jest be meat126 for their sharpshooters. And what's he doin' with that 'ere sword? I wouldn't give that Springfield rifle o' mine for all the swords that were ever hammered out. When I reach for a feller 600 or even 800 yards away I kin fetch him every time. He's my meat unless he jumps behind a tree. But as for swords, I never could see no sense in 'em except for officers to put on lugs with. I wouldn't pack one a mile for a wagonload of 'em." He looked at the address on the envelope. Straight lines had been scratched across with a pin. On these was written, in a cramped, mincing hand: "To the brave soljer who Gits these Socks." "Humph," mused Shorty, "that's probably for me. I've got the socks, and I'm a soldier. As to whether I'm brave or not's a matter of opinion. Sometimes I think I am; agin, when there's a dozen rebel guns pinted at my head, not 10 feet away, I think I'm not. But we'll play that I'm brave enough to have this intended for me, and I'll open it." On the sheet of paper inside was another valorous red-and-blue Zouave defending the flag with drawn sword. On it was written: "Bad Ax, Wisconsin, "Janooary the 14th, 1863. "Braiv Soljer: I doant know who you air, or whair you may bee; I only know that you air serving your country, and that is enuf to entitle to the gratitude and afl'ection of every man and woman who has the breath of patriotism in their bodies. "I am anxious to do something all the time, very little though it may be, to help in some way the men127 who air fiting the awful battles for me, and for every man and woman in the country. "I send these socks now as my latest contribution. They aint much, but I've put my best work on them, and I hoap they will be useful and comfortable to some good, braiv man. "How good you may be I doant know, but you air sertingly a much better man than you would be if you was not fiting for the Union. I hoap you air a regler, consistent Christian. Ide prefer you to be a Methodist Episcopal, but any church is much better than none. "He be glad to heer that you have received these things all rite. "Sincerely your friend and well-wisher, "Jerusha Ellen Briggs." Although Shorty was little inclined to any form of reading, and disliked handwriting about as much as he did work on the fortifications, he read the letter over several times, until he had every word in it and every feature of the labored, cramped penmanship thoroughly imprinted on his mind. Then he held it off at arm's length for some time, and studied it with growing admiration. It seemed to him the most wonderful epistle that ever emanated from any human hand. A faint scent of roses came from it to help the fascination.