know your right shoulder?" said the Sergeant, with a good deal of vinegar in his tone, to Si, who had his gun on the "larboard" side, as a sailor would say.
"Beg yer pardon," said Si; "I always was lefthanded. I'll learn if yer only gimme a show!"
"Silence!" again roared the Sergeant. "One more word, sir, and I will tie ye up, fer a fact!"
The Sergeant got his squad down to an "order arms" again, and then, after showing them how, he gave the order, "Fix—Bayonets!"
There was the usual clicking and clattering, during which Si dexterously managed to stick his bayonet into the eye of his comrade, whose toes were still aching from the blow of the butt of Si's musket. Si assured him he was sorry, and that it was all a mistake, but his comrade thought the limit of patience had been passed. So he confidently informed Si that as soon as drill was over he was going to "pound the stuffin'" out of him, and there wouldn't be any mistake about it, either.
When the hour was up the Captain of the company came around to see how the boys were getting along. The upshot of it was that poor Si was immediately organized into an "awkward squad" all by himself, and drilled an extra hour.
"We'll see, Mr. Klegg," said the Captain, "if you can't learn to handle your arms without mashing the toes and stabbing the eyes out of the rest of the company."
CHAPTER VIII. ON COMPANY DRILL
SI GETS TANGLED IN THE MAZES OF THE EVOLUTIONS.
"ALL in for company drill!"
These words struck the unwilling ears of Co. Q, 200th Ind., the next time Buell halted his army to draw a long breath.
"Wish somebody would shoot that durned Orderly," muttered Si Klegg. "For two cents I'd do it myself."
"Don't do it, Si," admonished Shorty, "They'd git another one that'd be just as bad. All orderlies are cusses."
Si believed it would be a case of justifiable homicide, and, if the truth
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