At a late hour last evening, the Brigadier-General of the Mackerel Brigade (formerly a practitioner in the Asylum for Idiots) received intelligence from a messenger that a strong force of chickens were intrenched near Fairfax Court-House under the command of a rabid secessionist named Binks. The brigade was at once ordered over the bridge at a double-quick, the general throwing a strong force of skirmishers into the Potomac, and waving his sword repeatedly to show that he was a stranger to fear. Shortly after touching Virginia soil, the orderly sergeant reported an engagement, on the left flank, between private Villiam Brown and the man that puts his hair in papers. A consultation of officers was immediately called, and the order "About face" was given. So excited was our general by the event, that when the order to march was given he forgot all about the "About face" business, and we didn't know that we were going the wrong way until we suddenly found ourselves at the bridge again. A consultation of officers was immediately called, and it was determined that, in consequence of the well-known revolution of the world on its axis, the part with the bridge on it had taken a turn while we were halting, and we were ordered to counterbalance the singular phenomena by marching the other way immediately. We had proceeded about one mile, when a scout reported that a shower was coming up. A consultation of officers was immediately called, and it was determined that a squad should search a neighboring farmhouse for an umbrella for the Brigadier-General. The umbrella being obtained without loss of life, we pushed on toward Fairfax, and soon found ourselves before the works of the enemy. A consultation of officers was immediately called, and it was decided that the Brigadier-General should climb a tree, in order to be able to direct the assault effectively, and prevent the appearance of a widow in his family at home. The first regiment, Watch Guards, were ordered to reconnoitre the works, and private Villiam Brown had almost succeeded in surrounding a very fat pullet, when Colonel Binks put his head out of the window of his fortress, and discharged a ten-inch boot-jack at our centre.