f Ancient Rome, and many others which I have
now forgotten. He carried literature for the regiment. He is in the
same old business yet, only now he furnishes literature by the car load.

CHAPTER VIII

CHATTANOOGA

BACK TO CHATTANOOGA

Rosecrans' army was in motion. The Federals were advancing, but as yet
they were afar off. Chattanooga must be fortified. Well do we remember
the hard licks and picks that we spent on these same forts, to be
occupied afterwards by Grant and his whole army, and we on Lookout
Mountain and Missionary Ridge looking at them.

AM VISITED BY MY FATHER

About this time my father paid me a visit. Rations were mighty scarce.
I was mighty glad to see him, but ashamed to let him know how poorly off
for something to eat we were. We were living on parched corn. I thought
of a happy plan to get him a good dinner, so I asked him to let us go up
to the colonel's tent. Says I, "Colonel Field, I desire to introduce you
to my father, and as rations are a little short in my mess, I thought you
might have a little better, and could give him a good dinner." "Yes,"
says Colonel Field, "I am glad to make the acquaintance of your father,
and will be glad to divide my rations with him. Also, I would like you
to stay and take dinner with me," which I assure you, O kind reader,
I gladly accepted. About this time a young African, Whit, came in with a
frying-pan of parched corn and dumped it on an old oil cloth, and said,
"Master, dinner is ready." That was all he had. He was living like
ourselves--on parched corn.

We continued to fortify and build breastworks at Chattanooga. It was
the same drudge, drudge day by day. Occasionally a Sunday would come;
but when it did come, there came inspection of arms, knapsacks and
cartridge-boxes. Every soldier had to have his gun rubbed up as bright
as a new silver dollar. W. A. Hughes had the brightest gun in the army,
and always called it "Florence Fleming." The private soldier had to
have on clean clothes, and if he had lost any cartridges he was charged
twenty-five cents each, and had to stand extra duty for every cartridge
lost. We always dreaded Sunday. The roll was called more frequently on
this than any other day. Sometimes we would have preaching. I remember
one text that I thought the bottom had been knocked out long before:
"And Peter's wife's mother lay sick of fever." That text always did make
a deep impression on me. I always