The last man was finally aboard. The gang plank had been hauled in. The boatmen were casting off the big heavy ropes that held us to the dock, when a voice from shore shouted “Hold there!” The voice was that of a big, burly policeman. Behind him was a woman holding by one hand a boy of about 5 years of age, his curly golden locks floating out from under a little blue soldier cap. On the other side was a sweet-faced little girl. “What’s wanted?” yelled the captain from the upper deck. “Is Sergt. Thomas Burke on board?” replied the big policeman. “Blast my eyes if I know,” retorted the captain “And I’ve no time to find out, either. You can settle your little business with him some other day,” probably thinking the sergeant had been out on a lark. Burke’s comrades had found him in the meantime and he came to the side of the boat, and as he caught sight of the party, he said with a voice choked with emotion. “Kate!” “Oh, Tom!” responded Kate. “Let me off the boat!” shouted Tom. “Too late,” replied the captain. The big wheels of the steamer were churning the water when our colonel, who had been attracted by the loud talking, appeared and asked what was the matter. Burke, tall, straight and every inch a soldier, but pale and thin from the effects of a wound received in the last fighting, saluted his superior and said: “’Tis my wife and children, colonel, that I have not seen in almost three years.” “Tie up your boat again, captain,” said the colonel. The captain ripped and tore and mentioned between oaths that he wasn’t taking orders from any army officers “not even Gen. Grant himself.” Col. Hulser was furious and pulling his revolver he commanded the captain to reverse the engines and run out a gang plank. The captain muttered between his teeth, touched the engineer’s bell and the gang plank again bridged the space between boat and dock. Sergt. Burke walked off, clasped his wife to his breast in a passionate embrace, then took a child on each arm, turned and faced his comrades, who had, sympathetically, been looking on, and they sent shoreward a mighty cheer. “Bring your wife and little ones aboard!” shouted the colonel. They came and went with us to Hart’s Island. Mrs. Burke explained to the colonel that they had come from Tarrytown, or some other town up the Hudson, because “Little Mac” (named after Gen. George B. McClellan) had begged so hard to come and see his papa with the soldiers he had fought and marched with. Mrs. Burke, Little Mac, and the sweet little blue-eyed sister saw the last dress parade of the 2d Heavy, and Sergt. Thomas Burke stood in line with his comrades.