squeezing. He took off his hat grudgingly to Miss Belle. He had never
liked the custom.

"I hope you will take pot luck with us soon again, Mr. Hopper," said the
elder gentleman. "We only have plain and simple things, but they are
wholesome, sir. Dainties are poor things to work on. I told that to his
Royal Highness when he was here last fall. He was speaking to me on the
merits of roast beef--"

"It's a fine day," said Mr. Hopper.

"So it is," Mr. Cluyme assented. Letting his gaze wander over the camp,
he added casually, "I see that they have got a few mortars and howitzers
since yesterday. I suppose that is the stuff we heard so much about,
which came on the 'Swon' marked 'marble.' They say Jeff Davis sent the
stuff to 'em from the Government arsenal the Secesh captured at Baton
Rouge. They're pretty near ready to move on our arsenal now."

Mr. Hopper listened with composure. He was not greatly interested in this
matter which had stirred the city to the quick. Neither had Mr. Cluyme
spoken as one who was deeply moved. Just then, as if to spare the pains
of a reply, a "Jenny Lind" passed them. Miss Belle recognized the
carriage immediately as belonging to an elderly lady who was well known
in St. Louis. Every day she drove out, dressed in black bombazine, and
heavily veiled. But she was blind. As the mother-in-law of the stalwart
Union leader of the city, Miss Belle's comment about her appearance in
Camp Jackson was not out of place.

"Well!" she exclaimed, "I'd like to know what she's doing here!"