"I never saw an Eastern man," said Jeff, "who knew how to drink from a jug with one hand. It's as easy as lying. So." He grasped the handle with the right hand, threw the jug back upon his arm, and applied his lips to the nozzle. It was an act as graceful as it was simple. "Besides," said Mr. Thompson, setting it down, "it puts every man on his honor as to quantity."
Early to turn in was the rule of the camp, and by nine
o'clock everybody was under his blanket, except Jeff himself,
who worked awhile at his table over his field-book, and then
arose, stepped outside the tent door and sang, in a strong and
not unmelodious tenor, the Star Spangled Banner from beginning to end. It proved
JEFF THOMPSON AS A NIGHTINGALE.
to be his nightly practice to let off the unexpended
steam of his conversational powers, in the words of this stirring song.
It was a long time before Philip got to sleep. He saw the fire light, he saw the clear stars through the tree-tops, he heard the gurgle of the stream, the stamp of the horses, the occasional barking of the dog which followed the cook's wagon, the hooting of an owl; and when these failed he saw Jeff, standing on a battlement, mid the rocket's red glare, and heard him sing, "Oh, say, can you see?" It was the first time he had ever slept on the ground.