were eating corn, unconscious of a robber being near. At
home, where I had lived on good fresh meat, bread, pie, everything that
was good, nobody could have made me believe that I would steal corn from
a government mule, but when I heard the mules eating that corn a demon
possessed me, and I meditated robbery. I did not want to take all the
corn I wanted from one mule, so I decided to take toll from all of them.
I went up to the first one, and reached my hand down into the nose bag
beside the mule's mouth and rescued a handful of corn, then went to
another to do the same, but that mule kicked at the scheme. I went to
two others, and they laid their ears back and began to kick at the trace
chains, so I went back to my first love, the patient mule, and took
every last kernel of corn in the bag, and as I went away with a pocket
full of corn the mule looked at me with tears in its eyes, but I
couldn't be moved by no mule tears, with hunger gnawing at my vitals, so
I hurried away like a guilty thing. While I was parching the corn stolen
from the mule, in a half of a tin canteen, over the fire, the chaplain
came along and wanted to sample it. He was pretty hungry, but I wasn't
running a free boarding house for chaplains any more, and I told him he
must go forage for himself. He said he would give his birthright for a
pocket full of corn. I told him I didn't want any birthright, unless a
birthright would stay a man's stomach, but if he would promise to always
love, honor and obey me, I would tell him where he could get some corn.
He swore by the great bald headed Elijah that if I would steer him onto
some corn he would remember me the longest day he lived, and pray for
me. I never was very much, mashed on the chaplain's influence at the
throne, but I didn't want to see him starve, while government mules
were living on the fat of the land, so I told him to go down to the
quartermaster's corral and rob the mules as I had done. He bit like
a bass, and started for the mules. Honestly, I had no designs on the
chaplain, but he traded me a kicking mule once, and got a good horse
of me, because I thought he wanted to do me a favor. As he was familiar
with mules, I supposed he would know how to steal a little corn. Pretty
soon I heard a great commotion down there, and presently the chaplain
came out with a mule chasing him, its ears laid back, and blood in its
eyes. The chaplain was white as a sheet, and yelling for help. Before
I could