"I'm to be with you, Harry, and we're both going with a flying column,
in order that we may report upon its conduct and achievements. So I've
made inquiries. It's a small town surrounded by hills, but it's a
great center for roads. We're going there because it's got a big shoe
factory. Our role is to be that of shoe buyers. Harry, stick out your
feet at once!"

Harry thrust them forward.

"One sole worn through. The heel gone from the other shoe, and even
then you're better off than most of us. Lots of the privates are
barefooted. So you needn't think that the role of shoe buyer is an
ignominious one."

"I'll be ready," said Harry. "Call me early in the morning, George.
We're a long way from home, and the woods are not full of friends.
Getting up here in these Pennsylvania hills, one has to look pretty
hard to look away down South in Dixie."

"That's so, Harry. A good sleep to you, and to-morrow, as shoe buyers,
we'll ride together to Gettysburg."

He lay between his blankets, went quickly to sleep and dreamed nothing
of Gettysburg, of which he had heard for the first time that day.