A FLOCK OF GENERALS. 55 



Arrived at the hotel and station at about half-past nine 

 at night, I conveyed my dogs to a safe corner on the 

 platform at Philadelphia, and ordered George to hold 

 them short by their chains, that Druid or Brutus might 

 not bite some of the citizens, and render their gait, at all 

 events, less free. I had not been arrived long before it 

 became known who I was, and I was at once accosted by 

 a railway official, I believe, who astounded my peacefully- 

 conceived ideas of his nation by then and there, in due 

 form, introducing me to seven generals, five colonels, and 

 three majors, all accidentally got together, not one of 

 whom looked as if he had heard the report of an enemy's 

 cannon, seen the glitter of a drawn sword, or had even 

 the knowledge of how to wear one without its getting be 

 tween his legs and throwing him down. As to drill, it 

 seemed to me as if they had never in all their lives or 

 previous to having attained their high military rank been 

 told to hold their heads up or march across parade. They 

 were all very kind and civil, however, and after having 

 welcomed my arrival with the utmost good-nature, under 

 great apparent curiosity they proceeded to cluster round, 

 inspect my dogs, and ask questions of George Bromfield. 



"Beg your pardon, gentlemen," I heard him say, 

 " one or two of my dogs don't like strangers ; have the 

 goodness, gentlemen, not to come too near, nor touch 

 them." 



" Oh," exclaimed one of the bystanders, no doubt high 

 in military rank, and with a good deal of self-important 

 assumption, and dressed in a very smart waistcoat span 

 gled with stars, " no dog ever bites me ; I can be friends 

 with them and make them know me at once." So say 

 ing, he stepped out, and reaching his hand toward Bru 

 tus' s black head, he was about to pat him, when, knocking 



