acco, money in his pocket to lend out, oh, what a great convenience
he was! How _many_ things he had that a fellow could borrow, and how
willing he was to go on guard, and get wet, and give away his rations,
and bring water, and cut wood, and ride horses to water! And he was so
clean and sweet, and his cheeks so rosy, all the fellows wanted to bunk
with him under his nice new blanket, and impart to him some of their
numerous and energetic "tormentors."

And then it was so _interesting_ to hear him talk. He knew _so much_
about war, arms, tents, knapsacks, ammunition, marching, fighting,
camping, cooking, shooting, and everything a soldier is and does. It is
remarkable how much a recruit and how little an old soldier knows about
such things. After a while the recruit forgets all, and is as ignorant
as any veteran. How good the fellows were to a really gentlemanly boy!
How they loved him!

The _Scribe_ was a wonderful fellow and very useful. He could write a
two-hours' pass, sign the captain's name better than the captain
himself, and endorse it "respectfully forwarded approved," sign the
colonel's name after "respectfully forwarded approved," and then on up
to the commanding officer. And do it so well! Nobody wanted anything
better. The boys had great veneration for the scribe, and used him
constantly.

The _Mischievous_ man was very useful. He made fun. He knew how to
volunteer to shave a fellow with a big beard and moustache. He wouldn't
lend his razor, but he'd shave him very well. He shaves one cheek, one
half the chin, one side of the upper lip, puts his razor in his pocket,
walks off, and leaves his customer the most one-sided chap in the army.
He knew how to do something like this _every day_. What a treasure to a
mess!

The _Forager_ was a good fellow. He always divided with the mess. If
there was buttermilk anywhere inside of ten miles he found it. Apples he
could smell from afar off. If anybody was killing pork in the county he
got the spare-ribs. If a man had a cider cart on the road he saw him
first and bought him out. No _hound_ had a keener scent, no eagle a
sharper eye. How indefatigable he was! Distance, rivers, mountains,
pickets, patrols, roll-calls,--nothing could stop or hinder him. He
never bragged about his exploits; simply brought in the spoils, laid
them down, and said, "Pitch in." Not a word of the weary miles he had
traveled, how he begged or how much he paid,--simply "Pitch in."

[Illustr