only dreamed it was a river, and that a boy who was fishing on its banks
had tumbled in, and required his services to pull him out, would fall down
on the rug again and take another nap.

I have said nothing of this rug, which Neptune thought was purchased for
him, nor of the bright red carpet, nor of the nice china candlesticks on
the mantel-piece, (which could not be reached without a step-ladder,) nor
of the silver urn, which was Mrs. Moore's great-grandmother's, nor of the
lard-lamp which lit up every thing astonishingly, because I am anxious to
come to the point of this chapter, and cannot do justice to all these
things. But it would be the height of injustice, in me, to pass by
Lieutenant Jones's moustaches, for the simple reason, that since the close
of the Mexican war, he had done little else but cultivate them. They were
very brown, glossy, and luxuriant, entirely covering his upper lip, so that
it was only in a hearty laugh that one would have any reason to suppose he
had cut his front teeth; but he had, and they were worth cutting, too,
which is not always the case with teeth. The object of wearing these
moustaches was, evidently, to give himself a warlike and ferocious
appearance; in this, he was partially successful, having the drawbacks of a
remarkably gentle and humane countenance, and a pair of mild blue eyes. He
was a very good-natured young man, and had shot a wild turkey in Mexico,
the tail of which he had brought home to Mrs. Moore, to be made into a fan.
(This fan, too, was in the parlor, of which may be said what was once
thought of the schoolmaster's head, that the only wonder was, it could
contain so much.)

Next to Mr. Jones we will notice a brevet-second lieutenant, just attached
to the regiment, and then introduce a handsome bachelor captain. (These are
scarce in the army, and should be valued accordingly.) This gentleman was a
fine musician, and the brevet played delightfully on the flute; in fact,