hem wuzn't really our cards. I don't exactly know who they
belonged to."

The good Deacon was still beset with the idea of astonishing the boys
with a luxurious meal cooked by himself, without their aid, counsel
or assistance. His failure the first time only made him the more
determined. While he conceded that Si and Shorty did unusually well with
the materials at their command, he had his full share of the conceit
that possesses every man born of woman that, without any previous
training or experience, he can prepare food better than anybody else who
attempts to do it. It is usually conceded that there are three things
which every man alive believes he can do better than the one who is
engaged at it. These are:

1. Telling a story;

2. Poking a fire;

3. Managing a woman.

Cooking a meal should be made the fourth of this category.

One day Si and Shorty went with the rest of Co. Q on fatigue duty on the
enormous fortifications, the building of which took up so much of the
Army of the Cumberland's energies during its stay around Murfreesboro'
from Jan. 3 to June 24, 1863. Rosecrans seemed suddenly seized with
McClellan's mania for spade work, and was piling up a large portion of
Middle Tennessee into parapet, bastion and casemate, lunet, curtain,
covered-way and gorge, according to the system of Vauban. The 200th Ind.
had to do its unwilling share of this, and Si and Shorty worked off some
of their superabundant{220} energy with pick and shovel. They would come
back at night tired, muddy and mad. They would be ready to quarrel with
and abuse everybody and every thing from President Lincoln down to
the Commissary-Sergeant and the last issue of pickled beef and bread
especially the Commissary-Sergeant and the rations. The good Deacon
sorrowed over these manifestations. He was intensely loyal. He wanted to
see the soldiers satisfied with their officers and the provisions made
for their comfort.

He would get up a good dinner for the boys, which would soothe their
ruffled tempers and make them more satisfied with their lot.

He began a labored planning of the feast. He looked over the larder, and
found there pork, corned beef, potatoes, beans, coffee, brown sugar, and
hard tack.

[Illustration: DEACON KLEGG LOOKS OVER THE LARDER. 220]

"Good, substantial vittles, that stick to the ribs," he muttered to
himself, "and I'll fix up a good mess o' them. But the boys ought to
have something of a treat once in a while