Alspaugh had grown so great upon the liberal feed of the meat of flattery, that he could hardly make himself believe that he had heard aright, and that these men did not care a fig for himself or his authority. Then recovering confidence in the fidelity of their ears, it seemed to him that such conduct was aggravated mutiny, which military discipline demanded should receive condign punishment on the spot. Had he any confidence in his ability to use the doughy weapon at his side, he would not have resisted the strong temptation to draw his sword and make an example then and there of the contemners of his power and magnificence. But the culprits has shown such an aptitude in the use of arms as to inspire his wholesome respect, and he was very far from sure that they might not make a display of his broadsword an occasion for heaping fresh ridicule upon him. An opportune remembrance came to his aid: “If it wasn't for the strcit orders we officers got yesterday not to allow ourselves to be provoked under any circumstances into striking our men, I'd learn you fellers mighty quick not to insult your superior officers. I'd bring you to time, I can tell you. But I'll settle with you yit. I'll have you in the guard hose on bread and water in short meter, and then I'll learn you to be respectful and obedient.” “He means 'teach,' instead of 'learn,'” said Kent, apologetically, to Abe. “It's just awful to have a man, wearing shoulder-straps, abuse English grammar in that way. What's grammar done to him to deserve such treatment? He hasn't even a speaking acquaintance with it.” “I 'spose it's because grammar can't hit back. That's the kind he always picks on,” answered Abe. “You'll pay for this,” shouted Alspaugh, striding off after the Seargent of the Guard. At that moment a little drummer appeared by the flagstaff, and beat a lively rataplan. “That's for dress-parade,” said Kent Edwards, rising. “We'd better skip right over to quarters and fall in.” “Wish their dress-parades were in the brimstone flames,” growled Abe Bolton, as he rose to accompany his comrade. “All they're for is to stand up as a background, to show off a lot of spruce young officers dressed in fancy rigs.” “Well,” said Kent, lightly, as they walked along, “I kind of like that; don't you? We make picturesque backgrounds, don't we? you and I, especially you, the soft, tender, lithe and willowy; and I, the frowning, rugged and adamantine, so to speak. I think the background business is our best hold.” He laughed heartily at his own sarcasm, but Abe was not to be moved by such frivolity, and answered glumly: “O, yes; laugh about it, if you choose. That's your way: giggle over everything. But when I play background, I want it to be with something worth while in the foreground. I don't hanker after making myself a foil to show off such fellers as our officers are, to good advantage.”