Gettysburg is a word that conjures up memories for me. We thought we had seen soldiers in Pittsburg before that, but we had simply seen samples. When the Confederates invaded Pennsylvania, we found ourselves in a most unpleasant place; but we had plenty of excitement. From early dawn till late at night drums were beating in the streets and the walls of the houses echoed the tread of many feet. For three weeks I never set my foot inside the Second Ward School in Ross Street, where I was supposed to be, but every morning I stole quietly across the bridge and ascended Coal Hill. Do you know what was going on up there? Soldiers were working like beavers, throwing up earthworks. Similar operations were in progress on every hill around the city, and many an hour I spent carrying water for the boys in the hot sun. When I descended the hill I always went to the yard at the Birmingham end of the bridge, and watched the workmen who were building Monitors. I do not remember how many Monitors were built there, but I remember very distinctly seeing the launch of the _Manayunk_. Later she steamed away down the Ohio, and I knew no more of her. The original _Monitor_, the wonderful little craft that so ably defended the _Minnesota_ in Hampton Roads, was my special object of worship in those days. Little did I dream then that I should live to know the sea as well as I do, or to drill on the deck of the _Minnesota_. The _Monitor’s_ success in her great duel with the _Merrimac_ filled all of us boys with excitement. We promptly built _Monitors_ with round boxes placed on shingles sharpened at both ends. Then we made _Merrimacs_ of an equally rude type. Next we went down to the river, and in the still water between the big stern-wheelers that lay with their noses against the levee, we had some of the most tremendous naval engagements that ever escaped the eye of history. And the _Merrimac_ was always defeated, whereupon she retreated up the river and promptly blew herself up. Those were good times! But when the man came with the Great Diorama of the War we learned something new. A diorama is, to be Hibernian, just like a panorama, only it is different. In a panorama you see pictures; in a diorama you see moving figures cut out in profile. After each scene the curtain must be lowered and the stage reset. I remember that this man (I wish I knew his name) began his entertainment with an ordinary series of panoramic views, after which the curtain fell, and we prepared ourselves for the new revelation. When the curtain rose again, we saw a miniature stage set with scenic waters. In the background were two large ships, cut out in profile, and in the distance were two or three more. The next moment we were startled by seeing a flash shoot out from the side of one, followed by a dull boom. Then the other big ship fired, and next the forts, which were at the sides, opened up. We began to tingle with excitement, and could hardly remain in our seats.