m now to see Cassidy as he appeared in line
on that dark night trying to put a percussion cap on that nippleless gun.
Comrade, did you ever swear? Do you think you ever heard anybody swear?
You should have heard Cassidy. He swore vengeance upon all of his
comrades, and declared that if he was killed, his ghost would forever
haunt the man who stole the nipple from his gun. "Here I am," he
exclaimed, "with no nipple on me gun, and the whole dommed Confederacy
right on us!"

In the midst of all the excitement which he occasioned by his vociferous
tones and profane explosives, the order came to "break ranks," and poor
Cassidy was the laughing-stock of the whole company. I believe he forgave
the rank and file for what he termed the "sell," but he said he would
never forgive the officers--and I am confident that he never did.

A large number of the members of the Eleventh regiment reenlisted upon the
expiration of their term of service. Cassidy was, I think, among them. But
be that as it may, a very funny story is told about his trying to get a
pension on account of some real or fancied injury received while in an
engagement. The chief of the board of examiners asked him where he was
wounded. Mike placed his hand on his left breast and said, "About here,
sor." The examiner exclaimed: "Why, man, if you had been hit there you
would have been killed on the spot, for the bullet would have gone right
through your heart!"

"I know it, sor," replied Cassidy, "but, bejabers, me heart was in me
mouth."

CHAPTER IV.

All were in high glee and the mythical goose occupied an elevated position
when we "broke camp" and left Miner's Hill. The intelligent contraband who
used to visit us every morning to dispose of his "baked fried pies" was
promptly on hand to collect the small sums from the boys which still
remained unpaid; and after the line had begun to move, another darkey, who
had been doing the washing for a large number of persons connected with
the regiment, and one of whose customers--presumably an officer--had
failed to meet his obligations, kept up with the regiment for a mile or
more, running along the line from one company to the other, peering into
the faces of all, and shouting at the top of his voice, "_Some gemman here
owes me free cents!_" The only satisfaction he got was that he would be
paid when "the cruel war was over."

The Eleventh regiment saw but little service in the field. Our regimental
colors bear