s corps at
that time. We expected to be ordered into action every moment, and kept
see-sawing backward and forward, until I did not know which way the
Yankees were, or which way the Rebels. We would form line of battle,
charge bayonets, and would raise a whoop and yell, expecting to be dashed
right against the Yankee lines, and then the order would be given to
retreat. Then we would immediately re-form and be ordered to charge
again a mile off at another place. Then we would march and counter march
backward and forward over the same ground, passing through Jonesboro away
over the hill, and then back through the town, first four forward and
back; your right hand to your left hand lady, swing half round and
balance all. This sort of a movement is called a "feint." A feint is
what is called in poker a "bluff," or what is called in a bully a "brag."
A feint means anything but a fight. If a lady faints she is either
scared or in love, and wants to fall in her lover's arms. If an army
makes a feint movement, it is trying to hide some other movement.

"Hello, Lee, what does Cleburne say the Yankees are doing at Jonesboro?"

"They are fanning themselves."

"Well keep up that feint movement until all the boys faint from sheer
exhaustion."

"Hello, Stewart, do you think you will be able to burn up those ten
locomotives, and destroy those hundred car loads of provisions by day
after tomorrow?"

"Lee, ask Cleburne if he feels feinty? Ask him how a fellow feels when
he feints?"

Cleburne says: "I have feinted, feinted, and feinted, until I can't feint
any longer."

"Well," says Hood, "if you can't feint any longer, you had better flee,
fight, or faint; Balaam gets along mighty slow, but I'll be thar after
awhile."

At one o'clock we were ordered to the attack. We had to pass through
an osage orange hedge that was worse than the enemy's fire. Their
breastworks were before us. We yelled, and charged, and hurrahed,
and said booh! booh! we're coming, coming, look out, don't you see us
coming? Why don't you let us hear the cannon's opening roar? Why don't
you rattle a few old muskets over there at us? Booh! booh! we are
coming. Tag. We have done got to your breastworks. Now, we tagged
first, why don't you tag back? A Yankee seems to be lying on the other
side of the breastworks sunning himself, and raising himself on his elbow,
says, "Fool who with your fatty bread? W-e are too o-l-d a-birds to be
caught wi