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A tall, slouch-shouldered man, wide brim felt hat, black hair almost to his shoulders, complexion very dark, long black moustache and whiskers and eternally, when awake, a big black meerschaum in his mouth, puffing away. Very quiet, slow soft spon, he occasionally gives some directions about the cooking to the negroes and to the white soldiers detailed to cook.
The old man sat before some twenty wide-eyed children, one of whom stood slouch-shouldered, book in hand, in the center of the room, and at regular intervals of not more than twenty seconds he shouted high above all other noises of the neighborhood: "Yo calls dat Eng-leesh! How eber yo gon' l'arn talk proper lika dat, yo tell me?"
He looked old enough to be the father of the young officer, but he was a civilian, and the military man proceeded to give him excellent advice. "Now don't get into trouble, Cutler." The slouch-shouldered scout rolled his quid gently, and smiled at his superior with indulgent regard. "See here, Cutler, you have a highly unoccupied look about you this evening.
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