“Do you like it better?”

“Believe I do.”

“We’ll have no time to drill here,” said I; “we’ll have enough, to do of another sort.”

Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the manual of arms, Hardee’s tactics, in which, system the piece is carried in the right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted for Scott’s, which provides for the shoulder on the left side.  There was no actual drill, however, and my clumsy performance—­clumsy compared with, that of the other men of the company who had become accustomed to the change—­was limited to but little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants because of my inexperience.

I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia’s name.  I did not expect him to mention it, though.  I knew he was wanting to hear of her; and I did not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him information concerning the young lady.  He asked me about Dr. Khayme, however, and thus gave me the chance to let him know that the Doctor himself would move his quarters to the rear of our lines, but that his daughter would remain at the hospital at Newport News until the army should advance beyond Yorktown.

And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of Yorktown.  Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and frequently in the rifle-pits.  The weather was bad; rain fell almost every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on the picket-lines, where no fires were allowed.  I suppose I stood the hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have endured much more.  Willis’s programme of the campaign had been completely upset; he had said that we should take Yorktown in a week and pursue the routed rebels into Richmond, and now we were doing but little—­so far as we could see—­to bring matters to a conclusion.  The artillery of the rebels played on our lines; and our guns replied; the pickets, too, were frequently busy popping away at each other, and occasionally hitting their marks.  Ever since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great quantities of lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,—­though Dr. Khayme maintained that the waste became a crime when men were killed,—­I have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words “unerring rifles.”  More lies have been told about wars and battles, and about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than could be set down in a column of figures as long as the equator.  From April 13 to May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac before Yorktown did not reach half of one per cent.  The men learned speedily to dodge shells, and I remember hearing one man say that he dodged a bullet.  He saw a black spot seemingly stationary, and knew at once that the thing was coming in a straight line for his eye.  The story was swallowed, but I think nobody believed it, except the hero thereof, who was a good soldier, however, and ordinarily truthful.