The Bridge of Dreams

He balanced his glasses in his hands a moment and looked keenly at the
four young men lined up before him. They made a very forceful
typification of the new order of things and were rather magnificent
in their defense of the old. The major's voice tightened in his throat
before he could say what they were waiting to hear.

"Boys," he said, and his old face lit with one of its rare smiles,
"there were live sparks in these gray ashes--or we could not have bred
you. I'm thinking you, yourselves, justify the existence of us old
Johnnies and give us a clear title to live a little while longer,
reunite once a year, sing the old songs, speechify, parade, bivouac a few
more times together--and be as disorderly as we damn please, in this or
any other city's hay market. Tom, telephone Cap to go straight to the
bivouac headquarters and have them get ready to get out a special edition
of the _Gray Picket_. If reports of this matter are sent out over the
South without immediate and drastic refutations there will be a
conflagration of thousands of old fire-eaters. They will never live
through the strain. Andrew, take David up to your rooms, send for a
stenographer and get together as much of that David Kildare speech as
you can. Hobson, get hold of the stenographer of the city council and get
his report of both Taylor's and Potts' speeches. Choke it out of him for
I suspect they have both attempted to have them destroyed."