"Don't dare?"

"Well, that is the word," he replied; "I am not afraid of the Yankees,
but I am of gossips--above all, of the valorous correspondents of the
newspapers."

"I begin to understand now."

"They are dangerous."

"Yes."

Stuart cantered on, playing with his glove as usual. "Think of
Messieurs the bomb-proof critics!" he laughed. "They already say I
reviewed the cavalry with a wreath of flowers around my horse's neck."

"Is it possible?"

"They say so everywhere; and I will tell you the foundation for the
charge. In passing through the Court-House on the morning of the
review, a young lady friend of mine ran out from her house and threw a
wreath over the neck of my horse. Well, I think it is something to be
courteous in this world. I did not throw it off. I thanked her, rode
on, and only removed it when I got out of sight. Meeting General Lee, I
told him of it, laughing, and he said, with a smile: 'Why did you not
wear it?'[1] I might as well have done so, Surry, for you see I have
the credit of it. Why try to be temperate, and pure, and soldierly? I
am a drunkard, a libertine, and a popinjay! But I care nothing. I
intend to do my duty, old fellow, and the next few days will probably