of those who made good their return the greater proportion bore
the marks of their indisputable valor. Crutches, wooden legs,
artificial arms, steel hooks, caoutchouc jaws, silver craniums,
platinum noses, were all to be found in the collection; and it
was calculated by the great statistician Pitcairn that throughout
the Gun Club there was not quite one arm between four persons
and two legs between six.

Nevertheless, these valiant artillerists took no particular
account of these little facts, and felt justly proud when the
despatches of a battle returned the number of victims at
ten-fold the quantity of projectiles expended.

One day, however-- sad and melancholy day!-- peace was signed
between the survivors of the war; the thunder of the guns
gradually ceased, the mortars were silent, the howitzers were
muzzled for an indefinite period, the cannon, with muzzles
depressed, were returned into the arsenal, the shot were
repiled, all bloody reminiscences were effaced; the
cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the well-manured fields, all
mourning garments were laid aside, together with grief; and the
Gun Club was relegated to profound inactivity.

Some few of the more advanced and inveterate theorists set
themselves again to work upon calculations regarding the laws
of projectiles. They reverted invariably to gigantic shells
and howitzers of unparalleled caliber. Still in default of
practical experience what was the value of mere theories?
Consequently, the clubrooms became deserted, the servants dozed
in the antechambers, the newspapers grew mouldy on the tables,