A blue broadcloth coat, with gilt buttons, sat jauntily over a black satin vest, and nankeen trousers.

A pair of gold spectacles reposed in magisterial dignity about half way down his nose, and a large silver-headed cane in the left hand balanced the umbrella in the right.
By the side of the man with rare vestments stood another figure of even more limpness of general bearing, whose garb consisted of a soldier's uniform pantaloons and woolen shirt--none too clean--set off by a black dress-coat, and white linen vest.
As the head of the column came up he in the blue broadcloth pulled off his hat and spectacles, and addressed himself to speech: "Allow me, shir, to welcome you with hoshpitable hands to a bloody--no, let me tender you, shir, the liberties of our city, and reshoice shat she old banner which has braved she battle, hash----" The column had stopped, and the Captain commanding the advance was listening patiently to what he supposed was the address of an enthusiastic, but eccentric old Kentuckian, when one of the sharp-eyed ones in the company shouted out: "I declare, it's Kent Edwards and Abe Bolton." The yell of laughter and applause at the ludicrous masquerade shook the hills.

The Colonel rode up to see what occasioned it.

He recognized his two men, and his face darkened with anger.
"You infernal rascals," he shouted, "you have been off plundering houses, have you, in place of being with your company.

I'll stop this sort of thing mighty sudden.