Publisher's Synopsis
Tuesday morning dawned "as clear as a bell," as an old lady once said, and the Dashahed Zouaves, if not exactly up with the sun, were awake and stirring at a much earlier hour than usual; and after a rather more careful washing and brushing than soldiers usually indulge in, assembled on the lawn, looking as bright as their own buttons. "What fun it is to be soldiers!" cried a little lisping fellow, one of the privates. "I only wish thome Southerners would come along now, and you'd thee how I'd thmash 'em."
