him, and said, 'Jones, I can't write if you keep
up this talking.'

"I knew that this was meant as a hint for me, but I knew also that my
very last hope lay in my winning the hearts of the guerrilla officer
and his men. So with slightly lowered voice I kept on talking to the
men, who looked at me from under their ragged slouched hats with the
most eager interest. At the end of one of my stories their amusement
broke forth into hearty laughter. The captain stopped writing, and
turned upon me with the remark, only half in jest, I thought:

"'I'll have to shoot you, lieutenant. You must be a valuable man in the
Yankee camp.'

"I forced a laugh, but went on with my stories, explaining to the
captain that I meant to enjoy my last hours at all hazards. The accent
of those about me reminded me irresistibly of the year that I, though
of Northern birth, had spent in a school in eastern Virginia.

"'You are a Virginian,' I said to Sergeant Jones.

"'Yes.'

"'What county?'

"'I'm from Powhatan.'

"'I went to school in the next county,' I said, 'at what was called
Amelia Academy.'

"'Goatville?' demanded Jones.

"'Yes, I went to old Goat. That's what we all called him on account of
his red goatee. We never dated a letter otherwise than "Goatville." And
yet we loved and revered the principal. Did you go there?'

"'No,' said Jones, 'but I knew a good many who did.'

"Well, from this I broke into my stock of schoolboy stories of the
jokes about the 'cat,' or roll pudding we had twice a week, of the rude
tricks put upon greenhorns and their retorts in kind. The men enjoyed
these yarns, and even the captain was amused, as I inferred, because I
could no longer hear his pen scratching, for he sat behind me.

"'Did you ever swim in the Appomattox?' asked Jones.

"'Yes,' I replied; 'I came near losing my life there once. I had a
roommate who was a good swimmer. I was also a pretty good swimmer, and
we foolishly undertook for a small wager to see who could swim the
river the oftenest, only stopping to touch bottom with our toes at each
side. We went over side by side five times. The sixth crossing I fell
behind; it was all I could do, and at its close I crept out on the bank
and lay down. My roommate, Tom Freeman, struck out for a seventh. He
was nearly over when the boys by my side uttered a cry. Tom was giving
out. He was in a sort of hysterical laughter from exhaustion, and,
though able to keep above the water, he could