I think he held my hand five minutes, and memories of other days were kindled anew. He had forgotten nothing. It was safely stored away in memory and the meeting had tapped it. Graphically he portrayed the incidents of our Bull Run ride to the amusement of clerks and customers. All at once he recalled that he was in the presence of ladies, and bowing and smiling he gallantly tiptoed his way to the front part of the store and apologized for forcing an old soldier’s story upon them. No one could have done it with more ease and grace, for, as I have stated, George’s early associations had been of the best. His family was in the swell set of the town in which they lived, and his father was a gentleman of the old school and noted for his polished manners. “You see, ladies,” said he, “I haven’t been in your beautiful city since war times until this morning. Struck town with Barnum & Bailey’s greatest aggregation on earth.” “Perhaps traveling with a circus does not meet your approval. I like it, though. Something like soldiering. Always under marching orders. Plenty of fresh air and one never sleeps so good as he does on the ground with only a strip of canvas between him and the heavens. “When the band is playing and them Wild West fellows are galloping around the ring with the scabbards of their sabres clanging against the stirrup-irons, I just close my eyes and imagine I am with the old second corps again and Gen. Hancock is riding down the lines. “Suppose you have all heard about the general? Handsomest man and greatest fighter that ever straddled a horse. “The general and the second corps never missed a fight. Yes, we were with them through it all. “Gettysburg? Sure! Rube, here, got a couple of bullet holes when we were beating back Pickett’s men that afternoon. The general went down that day, too, and I can shut my eyes and see it all and hear the cheers of the Irish brigade boys when they realized that the battle was won. “Beg pardon, ladies, but I am in something of a reminiscent mood today, being as I met an old comrade. We have been holding a little reunion. Yes, took a little something in honor of the event. “‘Del’--er Mr. Miller--was with us from start to finish. Wasn’t much of him but his drum and grit. Legs so short the boys had to carry him across all the creeks. He stuck though and tapped ‘lights out’ down side of Lee’s ‘last ditch’ at Appomattox.” * * * * * That evening the two veterans of the old second corps partook of the best that the Woodruff house could give and smoked several of Nill & Jess’ Pinks at the expense of one who was glad to do it, “Just for old acquaintance sake.” WAR IS HELL. To fully appreciate Gen. Sherman’s definition of war, one needs to be at a field hospital on the outskirts of some great battlefield where the ghastly surroundings of death and suffering are more terrible than on the battlefield itself.