Another desperate onslaught was required of the men of our regiment, and commanding all his energies, Tom braced himself up once more for the fearful struggle.
"How do you feel now, Tom ?" demanded the anxious veteran, as he bit off the cartridge, and rammed it home.
"First rate, uncle!" replied Tom, as the regiment poured a withering volley into the rebel line.
"For Heaven's sake, Tom, don't kill yourself," added the old man, as they loaded up again.

"Your knees shake under you now." "Do you think I'm afraid, uncle ?" demanded the sergeant with a grim smile.
"No, no, Tom; of course I don't think any thing of the kind.

I'm afeared you'll bust a blood-vessel, or something of that sort." "If I do, I'll let you know, uncle." "Charge bayonets! Double quick--march!" rang along the line.
"Have at them!" cried Tom, who was always the first to catch the orders of the commanding officer.

"Down with them! Give 'em Yankee Doodle, Hail, Columbia, and the Red, White, and Blue." The advancing column, shaken by the furious fire of our regiment, recoiled before the shock.

Slowly the foe fell back, leaving heaps of their slain upon the hotly-contested ground.