okhouse!" Then
to the gunners, "Here, you, clean up your wagons and take off all that
mud; it's filthy"; this was absolutely unnecessary and the fellows swore
vehemently under their breath; to the drivers,--"Clean up that 'ere
'arness and get that mud hoff it"; he also compelled us to burnish the
steel and made the gunners scrub the paint off the brass and sandpaper
it up. This necessitated the men going to a shop and purchasing the
sandpaper themselves, as disobedience of the order meant a sojourn in
the clink and the excuse that he had no sandpaper would not go.

By the time old Sol had reached the meridian, the First Sergeant had
succeeded in getting himself thoroughly hated, and many and earnest and
unique were the resolutions to "get even." This feeling was intensified
by his order to gather up some scantlings of hard wood and bring them to
his quarters; he was a sort of a one-horse carpenter by trade and had
started manufacturing for his own especial use and benefit a wooden
structure large enough to house himself.

The idiosyncrasies of our newfound friend manifested themselves
variously, the first and chief characteristic by which he came to
acquire the _sobriquet_ of "Hambone Davis," was his habit of heading for
the cookhouse each morning before the men were dismissed from the horse
lines--which was necessary before we could appease our always ravenous
appetites--so that he could garner for himself an edible that was longed
for and looked for by every man who could get it, i.e., the ham bone,
because there were always more or less pickings on it and he was a lucky
fellow indeed who was successful in capturing the prize. But, in his
official capacity, Davis was able to get out and get over there ahead of
us every morning and during his entire stay in our crowd, he was the
only man who each morning got the ham bone. Hence his cognomen.

Long, earnest and secret conferences were had as to the way we had best
settle our grievances. Among the conspirators were Dynamite Pete,
so-called because of his habit of taking shells, fuses and bombs apart
and examining and prying into their contents. One time his curiosity
came nearly getting him a quick passage West. He was examining a bomb
and, taking out the pin, was holding it in his hand, looking at it for a
brief instant. Providentially an officer was standing beside him who saw
his mad act and, grabbing the bomb from his hand, flung it into the
field--and just in time