s for breakfast.

The molasses incident seemed to make me popular with many of the rebels,
and I was the recipient of many attentions. During the day one of them
asked permission to take me out, and our guards permitted me to go in
his charge. He took me all over the town, introduced me to many people,
insisted upon my getting shaved at his expense, and in every way treated
me right royally. Everyone I met seemed curious to learn all he could of
the Yankees, and I was questioned and cross-questioned as to all
imaginable views of the situation and prospects of the Confederacy. My
replies were very frank, and I made no attempt to conceal my thoughts,
but they were clothed in good-natured raillery, and my hearers seemed to
like my plain speaking. I have very pleasant recollections of that day
in Boston, and I scarcely realized that I was a prisoner until it became
time for me to return to our quarters.

We had another jolly evening, and it may as well be said here that
during our stay of several days in the town we duly entertained scores
of callers, from the most aristocratic citizens to the lowest, and were
kept in almost constant conversation from early morning until late at
night.

The guards were compelled to move the crowd away at times, and then,
after having talked to us for hours, we could hear them on the outside
of the building, discussing the Yankees and their views, all crediting
us with being honest in speaking our sentiments.

The next day it developed that we were likely to be delayed several
days, on account of the fact that there was no competent person
available to take charge of us and the necessary guard.

During the day we were much entertained by the appearance of an outfit
in which we became much interested. An old wagon was driven up and
stopped before our quarters, and before long everybody knew all that was
to be known about it. The owner was a young man in a Confederate
uniform, and he claimed to be a captain on leave of absence because of a
wound. One of his feet was bandaged and he limped badly. He said that he
belonged to a Georgia company, and had been shot through the ankle in a
skirmish. His wagon was loaded with Confederate hats, which he had
brought to Boston for sale, and he had a carpet-sack full of Confederate
money, while his principal companion was a five-gallon demijohn full of
"pine-top" whiskey. A second companion was a negro boy, named Joe, who
was evidently very much afrai