they make a raid on the bees to rob them of their stores, which they have worked so hard to accumulate. The boys think to take the bees by surprise, and bag every one of them-but the bees charge and make their way to a safe distance. The would-be robbers now make a charge on the store where the bees have their supplies, but do not take any honey, for the bees form in mass and charge on their adversaries, plying their keen edged swords, and slashing in such a manner as to make the Yanks come to grass, and turn such somersaulting on the ground as to put to shame a lot of Japanese acrobat performers in a circus ring. We spectators hold our sides for fear of bursting with laughter at the antics of our much stung comrades. At last our men beat an inglorious retreat, and leave the bees masters of the situation and their honey. When the raiders reached the ranks their heads resembled a huge mortar-shell, and all declared that their taste for honey is played out, and they don't care for any. So I think they will be content to hunt rebels after this, and leave their bees alone.

CHAPTER XXIX.

RETRACE OUR STEPS AND MOVE TO SULPHUR SPRINGS-RECREATION-NEW YORK RIOTS-OUR REGIMENT SENT TO HELP ENFORCE THE DRAFT-ARRIVAL ON GOVERNOR'S ISLAND.

Our corps now retrace their steps, and march back in the direction of Warrenton, a beautiful village near the celebrated Southern watering-place, Sulphur Springs. We pass through the village and camp at the Springs, a distance of about five miles. We get the orders to go into

camp and make ourselves comfortable. This has been once a beautiful place, but now the desolating hand of civil war has made its marks on the place. The principal hotels are nothing but a mass of ruins, caused by General Seigel's shells a few weeks before; but the lovely shades still exist, and the wells that so many Southern aristocrats were wont to drink from are here yet, and in their best trim. Here we have some nice times, and are getting a very much needed rest after our campaigns and battles of the last few months.

Here we receive the news of the great draft riot in New York, caused by the three hundred dollar clause in the President's call for three hundred thousand men. The clause is, that any one who pays three hundred dollars will be exempt from the draft. Of course all poor people will think it unjust, as they can never raise the requisite sum for exemption. Three hundred dollars is like a drop in the bucket to a rich man, and of course he need not go to war, for he can raise the to him, paltry sum at any time, while the poor man must leave his home and those depending on him for support to the cold charities of this miserable world. Oh, why do not the young men of our land come down to help us crush this rebellion. There are plenty of them in the North to take the place of the poor man with his helpless family, and none the less loving to him because they are poor. A young man that will not enlist now, but waits to be drafted, ought to be spotted by all good citizens, and made to feel his shame for not taking up arms to help his brothers in the field put down treason in the land. He ought never to show himself in his native place after the war is ended, but should fly to some corner of the earth, there to end his days in shame and disgrace, for he is unworthy to associate with those who suffered for

this country that it might be the land of the free and home for all who love liberty.

It is plain now that there must be some troops sent to New York to enforce the draft, and our regiment is one of the many detailed for that purpose. The gallant Fifth accompany us, and amid the cheers of our comrades who stay behind, we march to Beal's Station and take the cars to Alexandria, passing by some old familiar places along the Bull Run country, and then take a steamer for New York, our new field of labors. We pass the beautiful shades of Mount Vernon, the celebrated Aquia Creek, Point Lookout, and soon are plowing the broad Atlantic, with its phosphorescent lights shining on the water like myriads of stars. The noble craft shakes a little, caused by the waves as they toss her to and fro. Some lean over

the bulwarks, a shiver runs over them like an ague chill. They look around very wistful for some one to pity them, but must bear their sea-sickness as best they can. I, for my part, cannot appreciate their feelings, for I never was sea-sick.

At last, after a pleasant journey, we arrive safe in New York and get off at the foot of Canal street to await orders. After lying around all day, in the evening we are conveyed to Governor's Island, there to rusticate until we are sent for. The Fifth get stuck in a sand bar and do not arrive for a few days after. This is a lovely island in New York harbor. Some regular soldiers are stationed here, and they have a fat, lazy time of it. We have nice times bathing, and enjoy all the comforts we wish for.

CHAPTER XXX.

PROCEED TO NEW YORK-AT CASTLE GARDEN-A MARCH UP BROADWAY-AT CITY HALL PARK-AMUSEMENTS

—THE DRAFT QUIETLY TAKES PLACE, ETC.

After a stay of a few days on the Island we get orders to pack up and get ready to move. Marching to the wharf, we take a ferry to New York, landing at Castle Garden, a huge round building jutting out into the water. Here is where all the emigrants from foreign countries first set foot on American soil. The place is always infested with a lot of thieves, ready at any time to rob the poor, unsophisticated emigrant of his last dollar. The regiment form quietly, and, without any music, march up Broadway, one of the most wonderful streets in the world. We are bewildered at the sight of the grand buildings on either side, it being our first visit to the great metropolis of the United States. We pass by Trinity Church, with its tall spire looming up almost to the sky, and the old grave yard with its silent dead; immense buildings, occupied chiefly by bankers, insurance companies, real estate agents, and brokers, also the celebrated Astor House, and St. Paul's Church, halting at the City Hall park. A little further on we are quartered in a Government building, on Chambers street, and stack our guns. Picking out the softest floor in the building we lie down to sleep, and next morning are up bright and early, looking in wonderment at the crowds passing to and fro to their daily toil. One would suppose there was no war in the country, for the number of people we see passing in this one city alone would make a good sized army. How long we are to stay here we cannot tell,

but are informed that the draft will take place this week. Not having much trouble in obtaining passes, and desiring to see all the sights I can in the great city, I sally forth and arrive at Barnum's Museum. The first object that meets the eye is the picture "Before and After the Shave." One picture represents a son of the Emerald Isle just landed after his voyage from his native land. His long, grizzly hair and unshaved beard make him look anything but prepossessing. The other picture represents him after the barber got through with him. It is said that this man made Barnum pay the dearest for any one shave in his life. One morning Mr. B. went into a barber's shop to get shaved. There was one in the shop before him. Barnum, being in a hurry, made a proposal to this man to pay his bill in the shop if he would give him his turn in the chair. The man ahead gives way, and after Barnum got through he told the barber to charge the other bill to him, and walked off in a hurry. Patrick sat down in the chair, got his hair cut, face shaved, head shampooed, then a bath, whiskers dyed and boots blacked, and tells the barber to charge the bill to Barnum. When the latter found out he was humbugged, he had the son of Erin pictured out and put in a frame, and hung where all can see the man who tricked the great showman and made him pay so dearly for a shave.

I will not attempt to describe the numerous curiosities in this building, for it would take a volume to do so. After getting tired of seeing the views here, I wend my way through the vast throngs in the building, and gain the street. Then I stroll up Broadway, taking care lest I get knocked down in this thoroughfare. Men and women hustle along as though the old boy himself was after them, all elbowing their way through the crowds. Approaching a policeman on a street corner, I commence a chat with him,