DAISY’S SERGEANT.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 45, 22 July 1874, Page 3

DAISY’S SERGEANT.

[A Story by the late Fred W. Loring.] By a special order from the War Department, Captain Bullington, brigadier-general of volunteers, was transferred from comparative peace and comfort, in one of our inland cities, to a remote military station, west of the Rocky Mountains. This military station was named Camp Jenkins, after the commander of a surveying expedition who established it. It had been established because there were Indians in the vicinity; the instant that it was established the noble red man faded away like morning mist, with the exception of a few who did washing for their oppressors. It was a lovely spot; it had cotton-wood and willow trees standing on the banka of a clear and sparkling rivulet, and the parade ground was a magnificent lawn of velvety grass. Around this parade ground stood the quarters of the garrison; at the head, four quarters belonging to the ofiicers and surgeon; while the barracks and guardroom completed three sides of the rectangle, the fourth being left open, and showing a wonderful picture of purple mountains, barren and verdurelcss for thousands of feet, while the summits held pine forests, and fields of snow that flashed on the eyes even in the middle of arid July. Outside of Camp Jenkins, for miles around, were deserts of sage-brush; inside was a natural landscape, which by contrast seemed a bit of paradise. The inhabitants of this paradise were, at the opening of this story, in the Adamite condition as far as the absence of woman was concerned. Mrs Gen. Bullington had flatly refused to accompany the general when she first heard the news of his transferrence to the West; afterwards finding that the general was placidly preparing to go without her, she determined to follow. Imagine then the scene as I have described it at Camp Jenkins, while General Bullington is discovered on the piazza in front of his cottage, just waked from his afternoon nap by the arrival of the daily mail. In his hand is an open letter, signed Matilda Bullington, which informs him that his wife will arrive a week after her letter.

“ Crcatle 1 ” cried the general to his lieutenant, who was crossing the parade ground ; “ Look here, will you ? ” Lieutenant Crestle, formerly a LieutenantColonel of Volunteers, not only looked there, as the general requested, but came there, and stood by the side of his commanding officer. He was a handsome, soldierly-look-ing fellow, dear to General Bullington because he was brave, honorable, a graduate of West Point, and a Philadelphian.

To l)c continued.