A FLANK MOVEMENT

At a Camp Fire of the Grand Army of the Republic a comrade, being called on for a speech, got up and said, “Now, boys, you all know I can’t make a speech; I never could. And the Commander shouldn’t have called on me to get up. I feel now like my brother Sam felt, one summer night, when he hadn’t anything particular to do. He wandered into a Methodist prayer-meeting and sat down near the door in one of those high-backed old-fashioned pews. He had no idea that he’d be called on to say anything, or he wouldn’t have gone near, but what did the blame preacher do when he spied Sam but call on him to pray! Sam was nearly scared to death. He didn’t know what to do; but when he saw all the congregation getting down on their hunkers between the pews where they couldn’t see him, and the door was open, he heard the bugle call to “Retreat,” got down on all fours and turned turtle, and crawled out of that church on a double quick, and skipped for Home, sweet Home.”