Read Ebook: Red White Blue Socks. Part Second Being the Second Book of the Series by Barrow Sarah L

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"Really," repeated Freddy; "but I am so glad you came, Miss Jessie, just in time to see us off."

"You know soldiers take themselves away houses and all," said George; "you will see the tents come down with a run presently."

And now came the last ceremony, the hauling down of the flag.

"Stand by to fire a salute!" shouted Jerry, and instantly a company was detached, who brought the six little cannon under the flagstaff, and charged them with the last of the double headers, saved for this purpose; Freddy stood close to the flagstaff, with the halyards ready in his hands. Crack! fizz! went six matches for the cannon. "Make ready! apply light, FIRE!"

BANG! and the folds of the flag stream out proudly in the breeze, as it rapidly descends the halyards, and flutters softly to the greensward.

There was perfectly dead silence for a moment; then the voice of Mr. Schermerhorn was heard calling, "Come, boys, are you ready? Jump in, then, it is time to start for the boat." The boys turned and saw the carriages which had brought them so merrily to the camp waiting to convey them once more to the wharf; while a man belonging to the farm was rapidly piling the regimental luggage into a wagon.

With sorrowful faces the Zouaves clustered around the pretty pony chaise; shaking hands once more with Jessie, and internally vowing to adore her as long as they lived. Then they got into the carriages, and old Jerry grasped Freddy's hand with an affectionate "Good-by, my little Colonel, God bless ye! Old Jerry won't never forget your noble face as long as he lives." It would have seemed like insulting the old man to offer him money in return for his loving admiration, but the handsome gilt-edged Bible that found its way to him soon after the departure of the regiment, was inscribed with the irregular schoolboy signature of "Freddy Jourdain, with love to his old friend Jeremiah Pike."

As for the regimental standards, they were found to be rather beyond the capacity of a rockaway crammed full of Zouaves, so Tom insisted on riding on top of the baggage, that he might have the pleasure of carrying them all the way. Up he mounted, as brisk as a lamplighter, with that monkey, Peter, after him, the flags were handed up, and with three ringing cheers, the vehicles started at a rapid trot, and the regiment was fairly off. They almost broke their necks leaning back to see the last of "dear Jessie," until the locusts hid them from sight, when they relapsed into somewhat dismal silence for full five minutes.

To go back to the Zouaves, however. When the stages turned into Fifth avenue, they decided to get out; and after forming their ranks in fine style, they marched up the avenue, on the sidewalk this time, stopping at the various houses or street corners where they must bid adieu to one and another of their number, promising to see each other again as soon as possible.

At last only Tom and Freddy were left to go home by themselves. As they marched along, keeping faultless step, Freddy exclaimed, "I tell you what, Tom! I mean to ask my father, the minute he comes home, to let me go to West Point as soon as I leave school! I must be a soldier--I can't think of anything else!"

"That's just what I mean to do!" cried Tom, with sparkling eyes; "and, Fred, if you get promoted before me, promise you will have me in your regiment, won't you?"

"Yes I will, certainly!" answered Freddy; "but you're the oldest, Tom, and, you know, the oldest gets promoted first; so mind you don't forget me when you come to your command!"

And now, dear little readers, my boy friends in particular, the history of Freddy Jourdain must close. He still lives in New York, and attends Dr. Larned's school, where he is at the head of all his classes.

The Dashahed Zouaves have met very often since the encampment, and had many a good drill in their room--the large attic floor which Mr. Jourdain allowed them for their special accommodation, and where the beautiful regimental colors are carefully kept, to be proudly displayed in every parade of the Zouaves.

When he is sixteen, the boy Colonel is to enter West Point Academy, and learn to be a real soldier; while Tom--poor Tom, who went down to Baltimore that pleasant July month, promising so faithfully to join Freddy in the cadet corps, may never see the North again.

And in conclusion let me say, that should our country again be in danger in after years, which God forbid, we may be sure that first in the field, and foremost in the van of the grand army, will be our gallant young friend,

COLONEL FREDDY.

CONCLUSION.

IT took a great many Saturday afternoons to finish the story of "Colonel Freddy," and the children returned to it at each reading with renewed and breathless interest. George and Helen couldn't help jumping up off their seats once or twice and clapping their hands with delight when anything specially exciting took place in the pages of the wonderful story that was seen "before it was printed," and a great many "oh's" and "ah's" testified to their appreciation of the gallant "Dashahed Zouaves." They laughed over the captive Tom, and cried over the true story of the old sergeant; and when at length the very last word had been read, and their mother had laid down the manuscript, George sprang up once more, exclaiming; "Oh, I wish I could be a boy soldier! Mamma, mayn't I recruit a regiment and camp out too?" "And oh! if I could only present a flag!" cried his sister; "I wish I had been Jessie; what a pity it wasn't all true!"

"Oh, mamma! why, what makes you think so?"

"Oh, something funny I heard about him last summer; never mind what!"

After this, there were no more readings for several Saturdays; but at last one morning when the children had almost given up all hopes of more stories, George opened his eyes on the sock hanging against the door, which looked more bulgy than ever. "Hurrah!" he shouted; "Aunt Fanny's daughter hasn't forgotten us, after all!" and dressing himself in a double quick, helter-skelter fashion, George dashed out into the entry, forgot his good resolution, and slid down the banisters like a streak of lightning and began pummelling on his sister's door with both fists; shouting, "Come, get up! get up, Nelly! here's another Sock story for us!"

"Socks! socks! father!" cried George, joyfully.

At this moment Helen came out, and the two children scampered down stairs, and sitting down side by side on the sofa, they proceeded to examine this second instalment of the Sock stories. They found it was again a whole book; and the title, on a little page by itself, read "GERMAN SOCKS."

"Oh, I am so glad!" said Helen. "These must be more stories like that dear 'Little White Angel.'"

And so they proved to be; for, on their mother's commencing to read the first story, it was found to be called, "God's Pensioners;" and commenced, "It was a cold--" but stop! halt! This book was to be devoted to "Colonel Freddy;" but if you will only go to Mr. Leavitt's, the publishers, you will there discover what was the rest of the second Sock Stories.

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