of Hagerstown, they found the cause only a little girl about fourteen years of age, perhaps the miller’s daughter, standing in the door wearing an apron in which the colors were so blended as to represent the Confederate flag.  A trivial thing it may seem to those who were not there, but to those jaded, war-worn men it was the first expression of sympathy for them and their cause that had been openly given them since they had crossed the Potomac, and their cheers went up in recognition of the courage of the little girl and her parents, who thus dared to give their sympathy to a retreating army, almost in sight of a revengeful foe.  When Company D was passing the house the captain rode up and thanked the little girl for having done so much to revive the spirits of the troops, and asked her if she would give him a piece of the apron as a souvenir of the incident.  “Yes, certainly,” she replied, “you may have it all,” and in her enthusiasm she tore it off, not waiting to unbutton it, and handed it to the officer, who said it should be the flag of his company as long as it was upon Maryland soil.

“Let me be the color-bearer, captain,” said young Watkins, who was by his side; “I promise to protect it with my life.”  Fastening it to a staff he resumed his place at the head of the company, which was in the front squadron of the regiment.

Later in the evening, in obedience to an order brought by a courier, the Eleventh Cavalry moved at a gallop in the direction of Williamsport, whence the roll of musketry and report of cannon had been heard for some time, and, rejoining the brigade, was engaged in a desperate struggle to prevent the Federal cavalry from destroying the wagons of the whole army, which, the river being unfordable, were halted and parked at this point, their principal defence against the whole cavalry force of the enemy being the teamsters and stragglers that General Imboden had organized.  The Eleventh Cavalry charged the battery in front of them, this gallant boy with his apron flag riding side by side with those who led the charge.  The battery was taken and retaken, and then taken again, before the Federals withdrew from the field, followed in the direction of Boonsboro’, until darkness covered their retreat.  In those desperate surges many went down on both sides, and it was not until after it was over that men thought of their comrades and inquiries were made of the missing.  The captain of Company D, looking over the field for the killed and wounded, found young Watkins lying on the ground, his head supported by the surgeon.  In reply to his question, “was he badly hurt?” he answered, “Not much, captain, but I’ve got the flag!” and, putting his hand in his bosom, he drew out the little apron and gave it to the officer.  When asked how it came there, he said that when he was wounded and fell from his horse the Federals were all around him, and to prevent them from capturing it he had torn it from the staff and hid it in his bosom.