We're in a bustle; orders, totally unexpected, attach us to Porter's Corps, Sykes's division of regulars.

Warren's brigade, which includes, I believe, the 5th Zouaves, the 10th Zouaves, 6th Pennsylvania Lancers, and 1st Connecticut Heavy Artillery.
"We've scarcely time to get off; our baggage will never be ready, and how we're going to get to Alexandria and aboard ship is more than I know.
"And I'm simply furious; I'd counted on a dramatic situation, Ailsa--the soldiers farewell, loud sobs, sweetheart faints, lancer dashes away unmanly tears--'Be strong, be br-r-rave, dah-ling! Hevving watches over your Alonzo!' "Not so.

A big brawny brute in spurs comes in the dark to stir us with the toe of his boot.

'Silence,' he hisses, 'if you can't hear that damn reveille, I'll punch you in the snoot, an' then mebbe you'll spread them lop-ears o' yourn!' "Heaven! Your Alonzo is derided by a hireling! "'Pack up, you swallow-tailed, leather-seated, pig-prodding sons of galoots!' Thus, our first sergeant, recently of the regulars, roll-call having ended.
"Coffeeless, soupless, tackless, we leer furtively at the two days' rations in our haversacks which we dare not sample; lick our chops reflectively, are cruelly chidden by underlings in uniform, further insulted by other underlings, are stepped on, crowded, bitten, and kicked at by our faithful Arab steeds, are coarsely huddled into line, where officers come to gloat over us and think out further ingenious indignities to heap upon us while we stand to horse.

And we stand there two hours! "I can't keep up this artificial flow of low comedy.