At 9 o’clock they assemble again and beat the tattoo for the evening roll call, and fifteen minutes later taps are sounded and the day’s duties are ended. In a camp there were always some heavy sleepers and it was the business of the drummers in beating the morning reveille to make noise enough to awake them. Many a time have I seen a fellow rush out of his tent attired in nothing but shirt, drawers and cap and take his place in the ranks hardly in time to answer “here” when his name was called. THE MUSIC OF THE DRUMS. Ringing with a siren’s song, Throbbing with a country’s wrong, Making patriots brave and strong, Foes must die or yield. Calling out the new-born day, Marking each night’s gentle sway, Ready whate’er comes. Calls to duty, calls to play, Calls for rest and calls for fray Rolling, roaring all the day, The Music of the Drums. Fife and drum have been heard in every camp and upon all of the battlefields of the world. And for a marching column there is nothing like martial music of the good old-fashioned kind, such as inspired the continental heroes at Lexington, Yorktown and Bunker Hill, and rallied the boys of ’61, and later led them in all the marches through the South. Martial music seems to have gone out of fashion in these up-to-date days, and what little there is, is but a poor apology, with the bugle blasts interjected between the rub-a-dub-dubs of the drummers who hardly know their a b c’s about snare drumming. I have heard but one good drum corps since the war, and that was at the G. A. R. gathering at Buffalo a few years ago. An old time drum corps, who styled themselves the “Continentals” were present. It was composed of veterans over 70 years of age, and, say, they could double discount any other organization present. Many of the crack brass bands of the country were there, but they were not in it with the old martial band. Their music--mind the expression, “music”--caught on with all the swell people of the city who thronged the camp waiting for an opportunity to hear them, and the veterans went wild as they heard again the reveille and tattoo and the old familiar strains of “Yankee Doodle,” “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” “Rory O’More,” “The Campbells Are Coming,” “Hail to the Chief,” and many other reminders of the old days. TWO AMBITIONS.