he furniture the house contained. Hurrying
across the field, we caught up with a long, lank, lean woman. She had
two children with her: a little boy about nine, and a girl about four
years of age. The woman had a table upon her head. The table, turned
upside down, contained a lot of bedding. She had a bucket full of
crockery-ware in one hand, and was holding on to the table with the
other. The children were loaded down with household furniture of great
convenience. As it was growing dark, I inquired the nearest road to
Perryville. The woman immediately unloaded her head, and pointing the
direction, set one leg on the table, and yelled to the boy--

"Whoray up, Jeems; you are so slow!"

"How far is it, madam?"

"O, about a mile and a half. It aint more nor that, no how."

"Who lived in that house?" said I, pointing to the log-cabin I had
just left.

"I did."

"Were you there during the fight?"

"Guess I was."

"Where was your husband?"

"He wor dead."

"Was he killed in the battle?"

"No; he died with the measles."

"Why didn't you leave when you found there was going to be a fight?"

"I did start for to go, but I seed the Yankees comin' thick, and I
hurried back t'other way; and jest as I e'enamost got to the brush
yonder, I seed the 'Confeds' jest a swarmin' out of the woods. So,
seeing I was between two fires, I rund back to the house."

"Wasn't you afraid you'd be killed?"

"Guess I was."

"What did you do when they commenced firing?"

"I cut a hole in the floor with the ax, and hid between the jists."

"Did they fight long upon your ground?"

"It seemed to me like it wor TWO WEEKS."

"You must have been pretty well scared; were you not?"

"Humph! _skeered!_ Lor bless you, _skeered! That aint no name for
it!_"

CAMP FUN IN A BURLESQUE LETTER TO A FRIEND.

The other morning I was standing by Billy Briggs, in our tent.

"Hand me them scabbards, Jimmy," said he.

"Scabbards!" said I, looking round.

"Yes; boots, I mean. I wonder if these boots were any relation to that
beef we ate yesterday. If they will only prove as tough, they'll last
me a long time. I say, Cradle!" he called out, "where are you?"

Cradle was our contraband, with a foot of extraordinary length, and
heel to match.

"What do you call him Cradle for?" I inquired.

"What would _you_ call him? If he aint a cradle, what's he got rockers
on for?"

Cradle made his appearance, with a pair of perforated stockings.