nks
I see our regimental saint, with pistols in belt and a Ballard rifle
slung on shoulder, putting spurs to his steed, and cantering away down
some questionable wood-path, or returning with some tale of Rebel haunt
discovered, or store of foraging. He would track an enemy like an
Indian, or exhort him, when apprehended, like an early Christian. Some
of our devout soldiers shook their heads sometimes over the chaplain's
little eccentricities.

"Woffor Mr. Chapman made a preacher for?" said one of them, as usual
transforming his title into a patronymic. "He's _de fightingest more
Yankee_ I eber see in all my days."

And the criticism was very natural, though they could not deny, that,
when the hour for Sunday service came, Mr. F. commanded the respect and
attention of all. That hour never came, however, on our first Sunday in
Jacksonville; we were too busy, and the men too scattered; so the
chaplain made his accustomed foray beyond the lines instead.

"Is it not Sunday?" slyly asked an unregenerate lieutenant.

"Nay," quoth his Reverence, waxing fervid; "it is the Day of Judgment."

This reminds me of a raid up the river, conducted by one of our senior
captains, an enthusiast whose gray beard and prophetic manner always
took me back to the Fifth-Monarchy men. He was most successful, that
day, bringing back horses, cattle, provisions, and prisoners; and one of
the latter complained bitterly to me of being held, stating that Captain
R. had promised him speedy liberty. But that doughty official spurned
the imputation of such weak blandishments, in this day of triumphant
retribution.

"Promise him!" said he, "I promised him nothing but the Day of Judgment
and Periods of Damnation!"

Often since have I rolled beneath my tongue this savory and solemn
sentence, and I do not believe that since the days of the Long
Parliament there has been a more resounding anathema.

In Colonel Montgomery's hands, these up-river raids reached the dignity
of a fine art. His conceptions of foraging were rather more Western and
liberal than mine, and on these excursions he fully indemnified himself
for any undue abstinence demanded of him when in camp. I remember being
on the wharf, with some naval officers, when he came down from his first
trip. The steamer seemed an animated hen-coop. Live poultry hung from
the foremast shrouds, dead ones from the mainmast, geese hissed from the
binnacle, a pig paced the quarter-deck, and a duck's wings