Our regiment was the last to pass, and when we came opposite of the general, we wheeled out and played as the men marched by, and then fell in at the rear of the column, and just as we were marching off the field the general’s young daughter, a miss in her teens--came cantering towards us, and riding up to Harry handed him a beautiful silk flag about three feet long mounted on a dainty light staff such as is used for the headquarters guidons. Harry waved a graceful acknowledgement with his baton and the blushing girl rode back to the reviewing party. MUFFLED DRUMS. In the fall of 1862, Jimmie, one of the drummer boys of the Second New York, sickened and died. He had been a slender little fellow, and the Bull Run campaign was too much for him. He lingered along for weeks in the hospital and when he realized that he must answer the last roll call he wished the surgeon to send for his comrades of the drum corps. It was his wish that we should stand at parade rest in the aisle between the cots. From under his pillow he took a little Bible and opening it at the 23d Psalm handed it to Harry Marshall, our drum major, and motioned for him to read the beautiful words. Need I say that there were no dry eyes? And I think from that moment life to most of the boys present had a more serious meaning. The next Sabbath afternoon with muffled drums and slow, measured tread, we escorted his remains to a little knoll ’neath a clump of pines near Arlington. The chaplain said “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” A volley was fired over the grave, our drums unmuffled and back to camp we went, beating a lively quickstep. “Fold him in his country’s stars, Roll the drums and fire the volley! What to him are all our wars, What but death be mocking folly!” CHAPTER II. THE THORNY PATH OF FOREIGN-BORN OFFICERS. The soldiers who enlisted early had some fun that the boys missed who went out after things were in good shape and the officers had learned the tactics so they did not have to stop in giving an order until they consulted a drill-book. It took some little time, however, for the young volunteer of ’61 to understand that if he was “just as good as them fellers with the shoulder straps,” that the first word in military tactics was “obey.” I heard of a lieutenant drilling a squad of recruits who had been neighbors and schoolmates. He put them through with various exercises, such as “right and left face,” “right about face,” “right dress,” “mark time,” etc., and after a while the boys got tired of doing the same things over and over. Finally one spoke up to the officer as follows: “I say, Tom, let’s quit this darn foolin’ and go over to the sutler’s.” The Second New York Artillery began its career under difficulties. It was cursed with some officers in ’61-’62 whose qualifications only fitted them for service with a mule train.