Fired by the sight, Captain Samyule Sa-mith flew to take command of a company of Mackerels, who were busily firing their muskets at some Confederacies not more than two miles distant; and having placed himself at the head thereof, was about to proceed in pursuit of warlike adventures, when he caught sight of a body of men, followed by another body of men, moving along in the valley below him. "Hem!" says Samyule, ponderingly, "what is this sight mine eyes behold?" "Oh," says a sergeant beside him, "that's the No. 3 army of the Confederacy, escorting some prisoners which they have just taken at Harper's Ferry." Samyule regarded the spectacle attentively for a moment, and says he: "Well, there's only one thing more I want to know about it. I want to know," says Samyule thoughtfully, "which of them two bodies of infantry is the army, and which is the prisoners?" Was there the tiniest, wee-ist, smallest fragment of sarcasm in his speech? Find out for yourself, my boy--find out for yourself. It was shortly after this remark, and while the Orange County Howitzers were raining a tempest of shot and shell at everything but the enemy, that a small bit of shrapnell fell near Samyule's feet, and again reminded him of his latter end. Noting that he was observed by those around him, my boy, and that the surroundings of the scene were picturesque, he uttered a hollow groan and fell prone to the earth. Then picking up the bit of shrapnell, and laying it upon his heart, he kicked once, and says he: "Is it almost morning, mother? Hurra for the old fla--" "Forward with Company 2, immediately," thundered a messenger who at this moment came tearing to the spot. "The Confederacy has flanked the Conic Section, and is trying to escape." Preferring to defer death itself rather than see his beloved country outwitted by the rebels, Captain Samyule Sa-mith darted swiftly to his feet at the word, and instantaneously led Company 2 down the hill at double-quick. I followed him half-way, my boy, and then turned off into a cross road, where I found Captain Villiam Brown striving to get a portion of the devoted Conic Section into a straight line by ranging it against a fence. Villiam ceased his labors when he saw me approaching, and says he: "Here's conquering beings for you. Ah!" says Villiam, proudly, "I sent these invincible beings on a bayonet charge just now, and they have all come back without their muskets." "What did they do with them?" says I. "Left them sticking in the foe," says Villiam, exultingly. "Are you sure of that, my Alcibiades?" says I, skeptically. "Why," says Villiam, confidentially, "they didn't bring a single one back with them, and of course they must have left them sticking into the paralyzed Confederacies." If Villiam could draw a checque as easily as he can draw an inference, my boy, he might paper the outside of the universe with ten dollar bills and have enough fifties left to make a very deep border.