a
chorus of squawks. So upset was the lady of the house that she
involuntarily called out, "_You Isrul!_" "Ma'am," came in a frightened
voice from under the bed, then in whining tones, "I dun try to mek 'em
hush up, but 'pears like Mass Debbel be on dey side, anyhow."

Further concealment being impossible, I said, "Come, you have the
chickens ready caught, I'll give you your own price for them." She
hesitated--and was lost, for producing from my pocket a small package
of snuff, to which temptation she at once succumbed, I obtained in
exchange six fine, fat chickens. As I was leaving she said, in an
apologetic tone, "Well, I declah, I never knowed you was going to
light, or I wouldn't have done sich a fool-trick."

Stopping at every house, meeting with varied success, we at last, just
at night, arrived at a farm-house more orderly than any we had passed,
where I was glad to discover the familiar face of an old lady who had
sometimes brought buttermilk and eggs to the sick. At once recognizing
me, she appeared delighted, and insisted upon my "lighting" and having
my team put up until morning. This I was glad to do, for it was quite
out of the question to start on my homeward journey that night.
Greatly I enjoyed the hospitality so ungrudgingly given, the
appetizing supper, the state bed in the best room, with its "sunrise"
quilt of patch-work. Here was a Confederate household. The son was a
soldier. His wife and his little children were living "with ma" at the
old homestead. The evening was spent in talking of the late battle.
Here these women were, living in the depths of the woods, consumed
with anxiety, seldom hearing any news, yet quietly performing the
monotonous round of duty with a patience which would have added lustre
to the crown of a saint.

I talked until (wonderful to relate) my tongue was tired: my audience
being the old, white-haired father, the mother, the wife, and the
eager children, who were shy at first, but by degrees nestled closer,
with bright eyes from which sleep seemed banished forever.

The next morning when, after a substantial breakfast, I was once more
ready to start, every member of the family made some addition to my
stores, notably, a few pounds of really good country butter. This was
always highly prized by the soldiers. As a general thing, when the
cows were fed upon cotton-seed the butter was white and "waxy," this
was yellow and firm. The oldest girl brought me a pair of socks she