Next to Mr. Jones we will notice a brevet-second lieutenant, just attached to the regiment, and then introduce a handsome bachelor captain. (These are scarce in the army, and should be valued accordingly.) This gentleman was a fine musician, and the brevet played delightfully on the flute; in fact, they had had quite a concert this evening.  Then there was Colonel Watson, the commanding officer, who had happened in, Mrs. Moore being an especial favorite of his; and there was a long, lean, gaunt-looking gentleman, by the name of Kent.  He was from Vermont, and was an ultra Abolitionist.  They had all just returned from the dining-room, where they had been eating cold turkey and mince pies; and though there was a fair chance of the nightmare some hours hence, yet for the present they were in an exceedingly high state of health and spirits.

Now, Mrs. Moore had brought from Carolina a woman quite advanced in life.  She had been a very faithful servant, and Mrs. Moore’s mother, wishing her daughter to have the benefit of her services, and feeling perfect confidence in Polly’s promise that under no circumstances would she leave her daughter without just cause, had concluded that the best way of managing affairs would be to set her free at once.  She did so; but Polly being one of those persons who take the world quietly, was not the least elated at being her own mistress; she rather felt it to be a kind of experiment to which there was some risk attached.  Mrs. Moore paid her six dollars a month for her services, and from the time they had left home together until the present moment, Polly had been a most efficient servant, and a sort of friend whose opinions were valuable in a case of emergency.

For instance, Captain Moore was a temperance man, and in consequence, opposed to brandy, wine, and the like being kept in his house.  This was quite a trouble to his wife, for she knew that good mince pies and pudding sauces could not be made without a little of the wherewithal; so she laid her difficulties before Aunt Polly, and begged her to advise what was best to do.

“You see, Aunt Polly, Captain Moore says that a good example ought to be set to the soldiers; and that since the Mexican war the young officers are more inclined to indulge than they used to be; that he feels such a responsibility in the case that he can’t bear the sight of a bottle in the house.”

“Well, honey,” said Aunt Polly, “he says he likes my mince pies, and my puddins, mightily; and does he ’spect me to make ’em good, and make ’em out of nothin, too?”

“That’s what I say, Aunt Polly, for you know none of us like to drink.  The captain belongs to the Temperance Society; and I don’t like it, because it gets into my head, and makes me stupid; and you never drink any thing, so if we could only manage to get him to let us keep it to cook with.”