The pull was taken, and we started, chatting merrily along the road. But persimmon soon began to tell, and “Anne Arundel” became sentimental. “Sweet Evelina, dear Evelina, sweet Evelina, dear Evelina. Say, Major, that’s what Colonel Herbert sings when he’s thinking of his sweetheart at home. That’s all he knows of it, and that’s all I know. Look here, if you don’t tell anybody, I’ll confide a secret. I’m feeling desperate to-day; havn’t you observed it? I’ll tell you why. I _had_ a sweetheart at home, too, but don’t you think she’s gone back on me. Yes, done gone and fell in love with another feller. Sweet Evelina, dear Evelina, D—— Evelina. Come, let’s have a horse race; I want to see what Emack can do.” The chickens and turkeys had long been forgotten, and off we started at full speed, Baltimore city against Anne Arundel county, and after an even race of two miles we brought up in front of Colonel Herbert’s tent. The Colonel came out and wanted to know what in the devil we were riding like fools for. “No poultry, I see.” “Lots of it, lots of it,” said I “Just look behind our saddles, will you!” “Nothing there that I can see.” Sure enough, chickens, ducks, turkeys and goose were all “done gone.” A courier was immediately dispatched back over the road we had raced, and he found them strewed along for a mile and a half. But our misfortunes did not end here, for next day our camp was visited by an unusual number of the officers of the Maryland Cavalry and Baltimore Light Artillery, and before dinner, to our surprise, every drop of whiskey had disappeared. Here was a dilemma, for Colonel Herbert didn’t know a breath of it; and when the cloth was spread, and no black bottle made its appearance, he looked blue, and Funston looked blue, and Massey looked blue, and Ferd. and myself looked bluest. But it was “done gone,” and couldn’t be helped, so we had a temperance dinner that day.