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THE NATIONAL TBIBUNE: WASHINGTON, D. C, JANUARY 21, 1882.
THE WIDE-AWAKE MAN.
Inscribed to the able-bodied stay-at-homes during ; the
wr.nnd re-dedicated to the Editor of the Iew ork
Tribune, who is now so vigorously fighting our disabled
veterans and warring upon the widows and orphans of
our fallen comrades Ed.
Now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles,
Each at his post to do all that he can,
Down among rebels and contraband chattels,
What are you doing, my wide-awake man?
All the brave boys under canvas are sleeping,
All of them pressing to march with the van,
Far from the home where their sweethearts are weep
ing, What are you waiting for, wide-awake man?
You, with the terrible warlike moustaches,
Fit for a colonel or chief of a clan,
You, with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes,
Where are your shoulder-straps, wide-awake man?
Uring him the bottomless garment of woman !
Cover his face lest it freckle and tan ;
Muster the apron-string guards on the Common,
That is the corps for the wide-awake man.
Give him for escort a file of young misses,
Each of them armed with a deadly ratan;
They shall defend him from laughter and hisses,
Aimed by low boys at the wide-awake man.
O, but the black-cape guards are the fellows!
Drilling each day since our troubles began
"Handle your walking-stick!" "Shoulder umbrel
las!" That is the style for the wide-awake man.
Catch me confiding my person with strangers!
Think how the cowardly Bull Runners ran !
In the brigade of the stay-at-home black-capes
Marches my corps, says the wide-awake mail.
Such was the stuff of the MalakofF takers,
Such were the soldiers that scaled the Redan ;
Truculent housemaids and blood-thirsty Quakers
Brave not the wrath of the wide-awake man.
When the brown soldiers come back from the borders,
How will they look while his features they scan?
How will he feel when he gets marchingr oders,
Signed by his lady-love, wide-awake man?
Now, then, nine cheers for the torch-bearing rangers !
Blow the great fish-horn and beat the big pan !
First in the field that is farthest from danger,
Take your white feather plume, wide-awake man.
Baltimore American, Oct. S, 1861,
Tor The National Teiruj.e.
STRMGER THAN FICTION.
A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR.
"We were lying in line of battle under the
muzzles of our own guns, at Malvern, waiting
for the enemy to charge. Towards 4 o'clock in
the afternoon there was a lull in the firing, and
during the interval Tom and I exchanged a few
As frequently happens under such circumstan
ces, our thoughts turned in the direction of our
homes, (we had lived upon adjoining farms all
our lives,) and I had just started to banter him
about a certain dark-eyed maiden, when I h$ard
a low, musical, yet intensely plaintive, woman's
voice calling, as if speaking over my left shoul
der, " Oh, Tom, come to me ! " To say I was
startled would but faintly express my feelings at
that moment ; and as for Tom, who was upon
my left, he seemed at first paralyzed, and the
next moment was trembling as I had never seen
"Did you hear it?" he asked in a husky,
quavering voice, as he observed my sudden
movement as I instinctively turned to look be
hind me. " Did you hear it? "
"What can it mean ?" I queried by way of
. "It's a sign, Jack; thi3 wi be my last battle,"
he answered. '
"Oh, Pshaw !" I ejaculated, endeavoring to appear
courageous ; " you don't believe any such stuff
as that ; it was only imagination."
" But you heard it the voice," he persisted.
"You heard what it said the words? "
" Certainly," I responded; " I thought I heard
some one speak your name "
" Whose voice was it? " he interrupted. " Tell
me did you recognize it ? "
" Of course I did," was my reply. " It was
" Yes," he murmered, as if to himself, "it was
hers ; but why should how could she call me
now and here ? "
I glanced at our comrades lying nearest us and
at once perceived that they were ignorant of any
thing unusualhaving occurred and had justbegun
some sort of an explanation to account for the
strange phenomenon when the rebel columns
debouched from the timber in our front and
started upon that memorable charge which so
disastrously ended for them the Seven Days.
Our batteries opened; the shells and deadly
grape and canister screamed and hissed and
hurtled over our heads, and their demoniacal
howling and screeching as they darted for their
prey, together with the roar of more than an
hundred cannon, put a stop to further conversation-
For nearly an hour the battle raged with
fiercest violence. The enemy pressed up almost
to the very spot where we lay a few yards (fif
teen or twenty) in front of our batteries, in a
slight depression and it seemed as though they
were destined to sweep over us before their on
ward course could be stayed. Wilder, fiercer,
deadlier grew the storm. The cannon belched
forth with their fiery breath, that issued in short,
sharp gasps from their heated lips and blackened
throats, tons of metal ; the ranks went down like
ripened grain before the reaper; but on they
came, nearer, faster, until from our left a single
piece sent a raking shot plowing a deep furrow
through the advancing column of gray. Then it
began to falter to disintegrate and show signs
of breaking in pieces. Presently small squads
went drifting towards the rear, and it was mani
fest to us that the gallant assault was, on their
Then came our time. " Up, boys, and charge ! "
ran along our lines. We were on our feet in an
instant, and, pouring in a fearful volley as we
advanced, dashed forward against the foe. hey
scarcely waited for our coming. Back surged
the gray billows into the forest, whither we pur
sued them. Darkness had preceded us, however,
and we were speedily recalled. That night, when
we mustered on the field for roll-call, Tom
stood by my side uninjured. Many had fallen, but
he was safe. As we lay down upon the earth to
seek repose I could not resist the impulse to slap
him on the shoulder and say, "Well, old man,
you're all right notwithstanding; so much for
your sign." He seized my hand with a warm,
brotherly clasp, and replied to my salutation,
"My time's not yet up, Jack; wait."
In December, 1862, Tom and I were in one of
the first boats that crossed the Eappahannock
into the beleaguered city of Fredericksburg.
We had been aroused from our slumbers at an
early hour, and in the gray dawn of that chill
December day had marched down to the margin
of the river, where, for some little time, we were
detained awaiting the preparations being made
for the purpose of crossing us over. I had never
before, and have seldom since, felt so cast down in
spirit as upon that particular occasion. The raw
atmosphere, the gloom, a knowledge of what was
expected of us, all teuded to produce anything
but a comfortable frame of mind.
As we sat, Tom 'and I, side by side, listening
to the sullen rippling of the water at our feet
and to the low hum of half-whispered voices
mingled with the scraping and thudding sounds
of moving timbers and planking as the pontoniers
prepared the boats, I heard the same voice the
identical words repeated that had so startled
both of us nearly six months previous at Malvern.
Though he did not speak for a moment, yet I
knew by the shiver which ran through his form
that Tom heard them also. Presently he said,
with what seemed a sigh of relief, "There it is
again; but I'm all right for this time; it will
come once more when I am wanted."
"Wanted for what by whom?" I asked,
more for the purpose of engaging him in conver
sation than for any other reason.
" O, I can't explain I don't understand at all
it's a mystery," he replied. .-
" But why haven't you endeavored to find it
out; have you never written her about?"
No; no; I would not do so for worlds it
would worry the poor girl to death," he ex
claimed. "But has she never intimated"
"Never; not a syllable. Her letters are, as
they always have been, bright, cheerful, encour
aging." Our further conversation was interrupted by a
sharp fire from the enemy's skirmishers and
sharp-shooters on the opposite bank, whose ready
ears had caught sounds of the movement upon
our side of the river.
In a short time "fall in" was whispered
through the growing light. We took our proper
places, marched down to the edge of the stream,
and, entering the boat assigned our company,
started for the opposite shore. We had barely
shoved off when the musketry fire increased in
volume; our own rifles began to reply: our guns
from the heights in our rear opened their
cavernous mouths, hurling their ponderous mis
siles into and beyond the doomed town, and the
artillery of the foe sent the bolts of death over
the heads of their skirmish line and up towards
the Lacey and Phillips Houses.
Then came the morning of the 13th, and the
great battle was begun. The story of that fearful
conflict, that terrible slaughter of human lives,
has been often told; the whole world has read
how we crossed a deep and swift-flowing river,
in the very face of a vigilant and powerful foe;
how we charged impregnable heights again and
again until there were as many of our numbers
lying upon the earth dead or wounded as
remained in the ranks unharmed; and how we
failed; but to fully comprehend what transpired
one must have been there to see and to hear.
Step by step we made our way into the town,
through the town, out of the town, and up the
steep incline leading to Marye's Heights. Men
fell by the way in scores to rise no more, and
flags and banners went down beneath the blast,
only to be raised by other hands, which in turn
lost their power as the leaden or iron messenger
touched them with death's relentless finger.
Driven back by the deadly fire that met us as
we reached the vicinity of the historic stonewall,
we reformed and again pressed forward and up
ward. Three times we traversed the same road
in advancing, three times we trod over the same
frozen track as we were hurled back by the
mighty force of the tempest we were breasting.
And such carnage! The earth was steaming
with gore, and the frozen soil was thawed by the
hot blood poured out as freely as though it were
water but all in vain.
Evening came, and with it reinforcements.
Grandly the stalwart regiments, perfect towers
of strength, marched through the gathering gloom
of night and into the smoky cloud that had set
tled down, until it lay like a heavy pall along
the base of the ridge where the storm beat fiercest.
These sturdy heroes pushed back the vaporous
curtain and pierced the thick canopy enveloping
their front, with the bayonet. On, on they pressed
until they reached the line of fire, of destruction,
of almost utter annihilation, and then, as had
been the case with us, they were forced to stay
their course. Flesh and blood nay, not even
iron and steel, could withstand the fearful temp
est that swept from scores of cannon and thous
ands of rifles, striking down everything before it.
Darkness brought relief from our post of danger.
We left the field, slippery with blood and strewn
with thousands of forms, some writhing and
groaning in agony, others silent, motionless, dead.
Ah, the visions of scores of those pale, upturned
faces, as I saw them dimly on passing them by,
are with me yet, and will remain with me always
until I die.
We recrossed the river and once more resumed
our old quarters. Tom, though among the brav
est of all who fought that day, had, with myself,
passed through the ordeal unharmed.
During the remainder of the winter and early
spring nothing of moment occurred. We occa
sionally spoke of the matter which puzzled us
so deeply, although Tom seemed unwilling to
talk of it. He would merely say, when I would
suggest that it was of no special meaning a
mere figment of the brain" Wait an d see." And
thus I was almost compelled to let the subject
At Chancellorsville we were both wounded,
but not seriously. At Gettysburg I went to earth
with a bullet through my body, and he with one
in his thigh. His recovery was quickest; and)
when, the next spring, I rejoined my regiment, I
found him with it hale and hearty as ever. I
noticed, however, that hisjboyish look, the jovial
expression, had given place to one worn only by
those who are continually living in the presence
under the shadow, as it were of some great
and yet unknown, though anticipated catastro
phe. He welcomed me warmly, and we speedily
dropped into our old habits and manner of pass
ing away the time.
During the Wilderness battles we were side by
side, and on two different occasions received
slight flesh wounds, not sufficient, however, to
send either of us to hospital. In the trenches
before Petersburg, when the rebellion began to
crumble, he was taken sick; and I was glad of it.
For his sake I hoped he might continue an invalid
for a season, at least until the rebel stronghold
had been reduced. Just prior to the rebel night
attack, when they broke through our lines, he
returned to the regiment and -we were engaged
in that affair together.
When Petersburg was evacuated, I took courage
and, one day, as we were following in pursuit of
the foe, said in a half-serious manner, "Well,
old boy, you will have to hurry up that third
call, or it won't get here until the war is over."
I was sorry the next moment for having spoken
so lightly ; for he grew pale, and a tremor ran
through his form as though he were taken with
a sudden chill. His only reply, made in a
subdued, half-listless manner, was, "There's
time enough yet. Wait."
I endeavored to cheer him, but to all my
endeavors he would only persist in reiterating
his belief. Sometimes I came near getting out
of patience with him because of what I considered
his obstinacy; but when I looked and saw that
he was growing thin, that his mind was sorely
troubled, my affection for him overwhelmed all
other thoughts, and thereafter (sometimes, as I
believe, unconsciously,) I took every precaution
in my power to shield him from danger.
At last the war was over; and with our
comrades we gathered in Washington to pass
before the Nation's eyes in grand review before
departing to the peaceful homes we had left four
long years before for bloody fields of danger and
sufferings to all and death to many.
After the display was over our regiment
recrossed the Potomac and went into camp,
On the second evening we were sitting upon a
little knoll just back of our encampment, from
whence we could see the gleaming lights of the
city, talking of home. I had just remarked that
less than a week and we would be with our
loved ones, when Tom grasped my arm so harshly
as to cause me to cry out with pain, and I felt
his hand trembling with the intensity of his
" It's come, Jack, for the last time," he whis
pered, and then, as we listened, I heard the same
voice, only more plaintive and importunate, utter
the same words for the third time, "Oh! Tom
come to me ! "
I must confess I wa3 more than startled. And
as for Tom, he arose and began to stagger like a
drunken man in the direction of our tent. We
had traversed about half the distance, I following
close behind, when the sharp report of a fire-arm
rang out upon the stilfnight air. I heard the
sound of the bullet and saw Tom fall prone upon
the earth. Lifting him up in my arms, I per
ceived, by the pale moonlight, where the ball
had entered, near the temple. He murmured
faintly the name of his beloved, and before I
could bear him to camp -was dead. Killed by an
accidental shot from Ihe musket of some careless
soldier, whom, I was unable to ascertain. His
premonition had been verified.
Now comes the strangest part of all. The next
day the regiment started North for disbandment.
The first news greeting me on my arrival home
was that of the sudden death of Tom's sweet
heart. Her health had been delicate for several
weeks previous, but not, however, sufficiently
so as to cause her friends any alarm. On the
31st of May, in the evening, and as her relatives
gave the time in the very hour that Tom and I
were sitting conversing just previous to 'his
death, she was sitting in an easy chair by the
window. Her mother sat opposite, and the rest
of the family were in different parts of the room
attending to various duties. Suddenly she
placed her hand to her bosom, and gave one low,
moaning cry, "Oh, Tom, come to me," and died.
Her physician said it was heart disease.
These are the plain facts, feebly told doubtless,
but none the less true for that reason. I have
never been able to solve the problem presented
by the strange phenomenon. If any one can suc
cessfully grapple with it, I shall be glad to hear
their explanation. Until then I must consider
it as having been either a remarkable coincidence
or a premonition from above. Which of the
two, if either, I shall never, for myself, be able to
OLD BUT GOOD,
Daniel Webster had nn anecdote of old Father
Searle, the minister of his boyhood, which is too
good to be lost: It was customary then to wear
buckskin breeches in cool weather. One Sunday
morning in autumn, Father Searle brought his
breeches down from the garret, but the wasps
had taken possession during the summer, and
were having a nice time of it in them. By dint
of effort he got out the intruders and dressed for
meeting. But, while reading the Scriptures to
the congregation, he felt a dagger from one of the
enraged small waisted fellows, and jumped
around the pulpit, slapping his thighs. But the
more he slapped and danced, the more they
stung. The people thought him crazy, but he
explained the matter by saying: "Brethren,
don't be alarmed ; the word of the Lord is in my
mouth, but the devil is in my breeches !" Web
ster always told it with great glee to the min
isters. THOSE AWFUL WOMEN.
January 30, 1863, a daughter of South Carolina
wrote to the Charleston Courier from Darlington
" I propose to sjrin the thread to make the cord
to execute the order of our noble President Davis,
when old Butler is caught, and my daughter asks
that she may be allowed to adjust it around his
THE PORTER'S IRON COLLAR,
About sixteen miles from St. Petersburg, in
the midst of a wide plain, stands the Czar's coun
try palace of Tsarskoe-Selo (Czar's village), the
great park of which is a very pretty place in fine
summer weather. All through June and July,
you may see the Russian children running about
under the trees by scores, with a shouting and
laughing that would do the Czar's heart good to
hear, if he were anywhere within reach. In every
shady spot you are pretty sure to find a picnic
party making merry on the grass, with two or
three well-filled, lunch-baskets beside them ; and
when you come to the little summer-houses
near the lake, you will most likely find at least
half a dozen people in each, gathered around a
big bowl of prostoJcvctsh, which is the Russian
name for curds and cream.
This lake is one of the great "sights" of the
park, for it has a boat-house filled with a model
of every kind of boat in the world down to
Greenland fishing-boats and Polynesian war
canoes ; and when they are all sent floating over
the lakes after dark, hung with colored lamps,
they make a very fine show indeed. But there
is something even better worth seeing a little
farther on, and that is the palace museum, filled
with strange presents which have been given to
the Russian Czars by various kings, savage or
oivilized, from a jeweled sword presented by the
first Napoleon to a Persian carpet sent by the
Ameer of Bokhara.
On a table near the door lies a very curious
relic, which every one who comes in notices at
once. It is a large silver dish, rolled up like a
sheet of paper, so as to make a kind of funnel ;
and if you ask the old soldier who shows the
museum how it came to be twisted up like that,
he will give a knowing grin, and ask if you ever
heard of Count Gregory Orloff.
This Gregory Orloff was a Russian count who
lived about a hundred years ago, and was not
only a count, but an admiral as well, though
there were people who said that if he had had to
manage the fleet by himself, instead of having
three or four excellent naval commanders to help
him, he would have made a poor job of it. But
whatever doubts there might be about his sea
manship, there could be none about his strength,
for he was one of the largest and most powerful
men in Russia. Like many other giants, he was,
perhaps, just a little too fond of showing off his
great strength. Nothing pleased him more than
to bend a horseshoe between his fingers, or pull
out of the ground a stake which no one else could
move; and if one of his sailors turned mutinous,
and began to make a noise, Orloff would just take
him by the throat, and shake him like a cat
shakes a mouse, after which the brawler was
usually quiet enough.
Now, it happened that one night this strong
handed admiral was at an evening party at the
palace, and as he was handing a bouquet of flow
ers to one of the ladies, the silver paper which
was wrapped around it slipped off. -Orloff said
nothing, but stepped to the supper-table, and tak
ing up a silver dish, rolled it up like a piece of
paper, put the bouquet into it, and handed it to
the lady; and this is the di3h you see in the
Not long after this, Orloff arrived in St. Peters
burg from a journey, and was met at his own
door by a messenger from the palace, who told
him that the Empress particularly wished to see
him, and that he must go to her at once. Some
men would have waited to put on their finest
clothes, and to make themselves look quite gay
and dandified ; but the admiral was used to obey
ing orders at once, and off he started for the
palace, just as he was.
Now, while the admiral had been journeying,
there had come to the palace a new hall-porter
who had never seen him before. This porter was
a strong fellow, although not nearly as big as
Orloff, and not a nice-tempered man by any
means ; so when he saw the admiral's big, coarse
looking, ugly figure coming up to the door of the
stately palace in a dusty traveling-dress, he
shouted fiercely :
"Be off, you vagabond! You've no business
here ! Who are you, I should like to know? "
Orloff never answered, but stooped and picked
up a long iron bar that fastened the door at
night One jerk of his great strong hands
twisted it around the porter's neck like a ribbon,
so that the poor fellow had to hold up the ends.
"Now, my boy," said he, with a broad grin, "go
and show yourself to the Empress with that
iron collar on, and she will know who I am ! "
Then the porter knew at once that this must
be the terrible Count Orloff, of whose strength
he had heard so much, and he fell on his knees to
ask pardon. But Orloff only laughed, and told
him not to be quite so ready to judge a man by
his outside another time ; and, indeed, from that
day forth, the porter was always civil to every
body. David Kor, in St. Nicholas.
To the soldier, the tenderest memories of the
past centre around those who have been his com
rades. The first gun of the Rebellion was fired at
Fort Sumter on Henry Clay's birthday. The
fort surrendered on Thomas Jefferson's birthday.
The contest began in the streets of Baltimore on
the anniversary o the battle of Lexington and
THE RED STAIN ON THE LEAVES.
BY O. W. BXJNOAY.
The wood-bird's nest upon the bough
Deserted hangs, and heaped with leaves ;
Once filled with life and joy, out now
Sad as a stricken heart that grieves.
Amid the light of suoh a scene,
Where silent vales and hills are clad
In gayest hues of gold and green,
"Why should the human heart be sad ?
Yet sombre thoughts flit through the mind,
And pass unspoken and unsung,
As leaves, touched by the autumn wind,
Fall from the twigs to which they clung.
Here, Like the patriarch in his dream,
We see the ladder angels trod,
The mountains of our vision seem
To lean against the throne of God.
The vales of golden mist that rise
Over the woodlands to the sea,
Drop where the gallant soldier lies,
Whose furlough is eternity.
Upon the leaves now sear and red,
That once were flakes of fire to me,
I see the1 blood our armies shed,
That our dear Country might be free.
When Grant was a brigadier in southeast Mis
souri, he commanded an expedition against the
rebels under Jeff. Thompson, in northeast Ar
kansas. The distance from the starting-point of
the expedition to the supposed rendezvous of the
rebels was about one hundred and ten miles, and
the greater portion of the route lay through a
howling wilderness. The imaginary suffering
that our soldiers endured during the first two
days of the march was enormous. It was impos
sible to steal or " confiscate " uncultivated real
estate, and not a hog, or a chicken, or an ear of
corn was anywhere to be seen. On the third day,
however, affairs looked more hopeful, for a few
small specks of ground, in a state of partial cul
tivation, were here and there visible. On that
day Lieutenant Wickfield, of an Indiana cavalry
regiment, commanded the advance-guard, con
sisting of small squads of mounted men. About
noon he came up to a small farm-house, from the
outward appearance of which he judged that
there might be something fit to eat inside. He
halted his company, dismounted, and, with
two second lieutenants, entered the dwelling.
He knew that Grant's incipient fame had already
gone out through all that country, and it occur
red to him that by representing himself to be the
general he might obtain the best the house af
forded. So, assuming a very imperative de
meanor, he accosted the inmates of the house,
and told them he must have someting for him
self and staff to eat. They desired to know who
he was, and he told them that he was Brigadier
General Grant. At the sound of that name
they flew around with alarming alacrity, and
served up about all they had in the house, tak
ing great pains all the while to make loud pro
fessions of loyalty. The lieutenants ate as much
as they could of the not over-sumptuous meal,
but which was, nevertheless, good for that coun
try, and demanded what was to pay. "Nothing."
And they went on their way rejoicing.
In the meantime General Grant, who had
halted his army a few miles further back for a
brief resting spell, came in sight of, and was
rather favorably impressed with, the appearance
of this, same house. Riding up to the fence in
front of the door, he desired to know if they
would cook him a meal.
"No," said a female, in a gruff voice; " General
Grant and his staff have just been here and eaten
everything in the house except one pumpkin-pie."
" Humph ! " murmured Grant. " What is your
"Selvidge," replied the woman.
Casting a half-dollar in at the door, he asked if
she would keep that pie till he sent an officer
for it, to which she replied that she would.
That evening, after the camping-ground had
been selected, the various regiments were notified
that there would be a grand parade at half-past
six, for orders. Officers would see that their men
all turned out, &c.
In five minutes the camp was in a perfect up
roar and filled with all sorts of rumors. Some
thought the enemy were upon them, it being so
unusual to have parades when on the march.
At half-past six the parade was formed ten
columns deep, and nearly a quarter of a mile in
After the usual routine of ceremonies the
acting assistant adjutant-general read the follow
ing order :
HEADQUABTEES, AEMY IN" THE FIELD.
Special Order No. .
Lieutenant Wickfield, of the Indiana cav
alry, having on this day eaten everything in
Mrs. Selvidge's house, at the crossing of the Iron
ton and Pocahontas and Black River and Cape
Girardeau roads, except one pumpkin-pie, Lieu
tenant Wickfield is hereby ordered to return
with an escort of one hundred cavalry and eat
that pie also.
U. S. Geant,
Grant's orders were law, and no soldier ever
attempted to evade them. At seven o'clock the
lieutenant filed out of camp with his hundred
men amid the cheers of the entire army. The
escort concurred in stating that he devoured the
whole of the pie and seemed to relish it.
HE BROUGHT THE FLAG.
One of the Indiana regiments was fiercely at
tacked by a large rebel force in one of the bat
tles in Mississippi. The Indianians, unable to
withstand such great odds, were compelled to
fall back about thirty or forty yards, losing, to
the utter mortification of the officers and men,
their flag, which remained in the hands of the
enemy. Suddenly a tall Irishman, a private in
the color company, rushed from the ranks across
the vacant ground, attacked the squad of rebels
who had possession of the conquered flag, with
his musket felled several to the ground, snatched
the flag from them, and returned safely back to
his regiment. The bold fellow was, of course,
immediately surrounded by his jubilant com
rades, and greatly praised for his gallantry.
His captain appointed him to a sergeantcy on the
spot; but the hero cut everything short by the
reply, "Och! niver nioind, Captain; spake no
more iv it. Oi dhropped me whisky-fiask wuth
the ribils and wint fer it, and be dad, it was
aisy to bring the Ould Flag along."
REBEL CAVALRY TACTICS.
An Arkansas colonel of cavalry during the
war used to mount his men as follows :
First Order1 Prepare fer ter git onto yer
Second Order Git !
TOLD DURING THE WAR.
Peter Apple, of Oakland, Marion county, was
recruited during the war for the Eleventh In
diana, and took part in the attempt to storm one of
the Yicksburg batteries. The rebel fire was so de
structive that the regiment recoiled. Apple, the
" raw recruit," however, did not observe the back
ward movement, and kept going ahead until he
reached one of the rebel guns, where he caught
a gunner by the collar, and before the astonished
gray-backs sufficiently recovered from their sur
prise to interpose any obstacle had brought him
into the Union lines, saying as he turned the
prisoner over, "Boys, why didn't you come on?
Every fellow might have got one."