Look at us," he continued, "half naked, half starved, and we 're the best of the lot, the select force, the picked men, the head-quarters guard!" he went on in bitter sarcasm.
"Yes, that 's so," replied the other, laughing; then, sadly, "Those poor fellows by the river are worse off than we are, though.

What would n't they give for some of that punch?
My soul, wasn't it good!" he continued, smacking his lips in recollection.
"Where are we going, sergeant ?" asked another.
"Don't know; the command is, 'Three days' rations and light marching order.'" "Well, we're all of the last, anyway.

Look at me! No stockings, leggings torn, no shirt; and you'd scarcely call this thing on my back a coat, would you?
What could be lighter?
So comfortable, too, in this pleasant summer weather!" "Oh, shut up, old man; you 're better off than I am, anyway; you've got rags to help your shoes out, and just look at mine," said another, sticking out a gaunt leg with a tattered shoe on the foot, every toe of which was plainly visible through the torn and worn openings.

"And just look at this," he went on, bringing his foot down hard on the snow-covered, frost-bound soil, making an imprint which was edged with blood from his wounded, bruised, unprotected feet.

"That's my sign-manual; and it 's not hard to duplicate in the army yonder, either." "That's true; and to think that the cause of liberty's got down so low that we are its only dependence.