Major Platner led the way; and Somers reverently followed a pace or two behind him, flattering the officer in every action as well as word. They reached the division headquarters, and our hero was ushered into the presence of the general. He was a large, red-faced man, and had evidently taken all the whiskey he could carry, at his dinner, from which he had just returned. "What have you got there, Platner?" demanded the general, in a tone so rough, that Somers was reminded of the ogre in Jack the Giant-killer. "The young man of whom I spoke to you this forenoon. He is a person of remarkable address, courage and skill; and is just the man you need." "All right; adieu, major!" added the general, bowing to the other. Major Platner took the hint, and took himself off, leaving Somers standing alone and somewhat abashed in the presence of the great man. "Young man!" said, or rather roared, the rebel general, as he raised his eyes from the ground, and fixed them with a half-drunken leer upon our hero. "Sir!" "How much whiskey can you drink without going by the board?" Somers did not know, had never tried the experiment, and was utterly opposed to all such practices. But he desired to conciliate the tipsy general; and, if he had not been fearful of being put to the test, he would have signified his belief that he could carry off half a dozen glasses. As it was, he did not dare to belie his principles. "Not any, sir! I never drink whiskey," he replied, with the utmost deference in his tones. "Hey?" gasped General M----, darting a sudden glance at the young man. "I never drank a glass of whiskey in my life, sir," added Somers. The general jumped off his camp-stool with a sudden jerk, and stared at our lieutenant in silence for an instant. "Give me your hand," said he. Somers extended his hand. "Yes! you are flesh and blood. You are the first man I ever saw that never drank a glass of whiskey. You drink brandy, don't you?" "No, sir! I never drank a glass of liquor or wine of any kind in my life." "Give me your hand," said the general again. "Flesh and blood! You are the first man I ever saw that never drank a glass of liquor or wine of any kind. 'Tis a bad practice," he added with an oath. "I think so, sir," replied Somers with due deference. "Young man!" "Sir." "The greatest enemy--hic--that the Confederate army has to contend against is whiskey. Yes, sir! whiskey. If the Confederate States of--hic--of America ever win their independence, it will be when the whiskey's all gone." "I am very glad to hear officers of your high rank condemning the practice," said Somers, alive to the joke of the general's proceedings, but prudently looking as serious as though it had been a solemn tragedy instead of an awful farce. "Yes, sir! I'm opposed with all my might to the practice. Yes, sir! Whiskey is the greatest enemy I have on the face of the footstool, young man." Somers believed him.