t of, but however small and
insignificant a man's head is, he had rather have it with him, keeping
good time, than to have it wandering around out of his reach. When I
"come to," as the saying is, it only seemed as though I had been asleep
over night, but I dreamed more than any able-bodied man could have done
in one night. I was what they call un-. conscious, but I did a great
deal of work during that period of unconsciousness. One thing I did,
which I was proud of, was to wind up the war. I arranged it so that all
of the bullets that were fired on each side, were made of India-rubber,
like those little toy balloons, and war was just fun. The boys on both
sides would fire at each other and watch the rubber balloons hit the
mark, and explode, and nobody was hurt, and everybody laughed. There was
no more blood. Everything was rubber and wind. There was no one killed,
no legs shot off, and the men on each side; when not fighting with
the harmless missiles, were gathered together, blue and gray, having
a regular picnic, and every evening there was a dance, the rebels
furnishing the girls. In my delirium I could see that my rebel angel was
dancing a good deal with the boys, and frequently with my comrade, Jim,
and I was pretty jealous. I made up my mind that I wouldn't speak to
either of them again. I would watch my balloon battles with a good deal
of interest, and think how much better and safer it was to fight that
way. Every day, when the battle was over, and the two sides would get
together for fun, I noticed when the bugle sounded for battle again,
that on each side the boys were terribly mixed, there being about as
many blue-coated Yankees among the gray rebels as there were rebels
among the Yankees, and after awhile it seemed as though all were dressed
alike, in a sort of "blue-gray," and then they disappeared, and I
recovered my senses. Frequently, during my delerium and unconsciousness,
I would feel my mouth pulled open, and hear a spoon chink against my
teeth, and I would taste something bad going down my neck, and then my
head would buzz as though a swarm of bees had taken up their abode where
my brain used to be. Sometimes I would hear the clanking of a saber and
a pair of Mexican spurs, and feel a great big hand on my head, and I
knew that was Jim, but I couldn't move a muscle, or say a word. "I guess
he's dead, ain't he doc?" I would hear in Jim's voice, and the doc would
say there was a little life left, but no