y action in laying a setting
of eggs.

The handsomest monument to an individual which I saw upon the
battlefield was the admirable bronze bust of Major General Martin L.
Smith, C.S.A., and the one which appealed most to my imagination was
also a memorial to a Confederate soldier: Brigadier-General States
Rights Gist. Is there not something Roman in the thought that, thirty or
more years before the war, a southern father gave his new-born son that
name, dedicating him, as it were, to the cause of States Rights, and
that the son so dedicated gave his life in battle for that cause? The
name upon that stone made me better understand the depth of feeling that
existed in the South long years before the War, and gave me a clearer
comprehension of at least one reason why the South made such a gallant
fight.

* * * * *

Of more than fourscore national cemeteries in the United States, that
which stands among the hills and trees, overlooking the river, at the
northerly end of the military park, is one of the most beautiful, and
is, with the single exception of Arlington, the largest. It contains the
graves of nearly 17,000 Union soldiers lost in this
campaign--three-fourths of them "unknown"!

It is interesting to note that, because the surrender of Pemberton to
Grant occurred on July 4, that date has, in this region, associations
less happy than attach to it elsewhere, and that the Fourth has not been
celebrated in Vicksburg since the Civil War, except by the negroes, who
have taken it for their especial holiday. This reminds me, also, of the
fact that, throughout the South, Christmas, instead of the Fourth of
July, is celebrated with fireworks.

CHAPTER XLVI

SHREDS AND PATCHES

It was Marse Harris Dickson who showed us the battlefield. As we were
driving along in the motor we overtook an old trudging negro, very
picturesque in his ragged clothing and battered soft hat. My companion
said that he would like to take a picture of this wayfarer, and asked
Marse Harris, who, as author of the "Old Reliable" stories, seemed best
fitted for the task, to arrange the matter. The automobile, having
passed the negro, was stopped to wait for him to catch up. Presently, as
he came by, Marse Harris addressed him in that friendly way Southerners
have with negroes.

"Want your picture taken, old man?" he asked.

To which the negro, still shuffling along, replied:

"I ain't got no money."

Ma