a tall tree� . I heard the dead-march rolling from the drums, and saw them passing, black against the sunrise� . Then, filing slowly as the seconds dragged, a thousand years passed in processional during the next half hour — ending in a far rattle of musketry and a light smoke blowing east across the fields — — ”

She passed her fingers across her brow, clearing it of the clinging curls.

“They played a noisy march — afterward. I saw the ragged ranks wheel and manoeuvre, stepping out Briskly to the jolly drums and fifes� . I stood by the grave while the detail filled it cheerily� . Then I went back to the farm house, through the morning dew and sunshine.

“When I had opened my packet and had understood its