That the reader may better understand, I will explain. Part of the sketches were written on the spot at the time of occurrence. Added thoughts may readily be distinguished.

Our camp is now in a cotton field, or rather a field that cotton was grown in last season. This plantation, like many others, has been abandoned by its owner. Perhaps he had foreseen from the position of the two armies that he was doomed to fall between, and wisely withdrew.

Immediately after our occupation of this cleared and elevated ground we were joined by thousands of old friends, whose familiar chatting as they flit from place to place reminded us of our far-away northern homes in springtime. These old friends are the common blue house martins. Instinctively they have been attracted by the tented city, with its teeming population. They do not seem to fear us, but rather to court our friendship by coming near and examining our tents, all the while chattering in a familiar language, trying to make us understand their wants.

At last some boy who has lived nearer to nature than the rest of us catches on because up in his northern home he has catered to their desires by preparing for them a home, modeled after some ideal cottage or ancient castle, and erecting it upon a post in the backyard. With a fond recollection of his boyhood home, and of the happy occupants of his early handiwork, he understands their desire, and soon converts an empty cracker box into a commodious flat for their occupation, and places it on a pole.

Immediately every apartment is filled and the boys are busy everywhere transforming cracker boxes into bird houses and placing them throughout the camp. And now comes the strangest part of our story. When we abandoned the camp and moved forward, our feathered comrades likewise left nest, eggs and even their young, and followed us.

Strange! Do you say?

No so strange after all, if you will stop to consider and make comparison. Have not many of the men who compose this army done the same thing? Home, wives, and little ones have been left behind. Why? Because of inherent patriotism. Yet, according to the teaching of today, one is a creature of education, the other of instinct.

It is pay day. Each private soldier has received two months pay - $26 - just 43 1-3 cents a day. Magnificent recompense for leaving home and all its comforts, is it not? There are two classes in camp who will be very busy for at least a few days. They are the sutlers and the gamblers. Marvelous indeed would be a true report of the enormous profits of the 'land pirates,' commissioned as sutlers.

Perhaps I can give you some idea by quoting a verse from a poem I wrote at that time, entitled 'The Irishman's Soliloquy,' which has not yet been published:

"A small can of fruit, either peach or plum,

When flavored but slightly wid phiskey or rum,

Command such a price that it strikes a man dumb,

And crackers and cheese are ten cints the crumb."

Years later I learned from William C. Ellis, since deceased, that the sutler privilege of the 35th belonged to a Dayton firm. W. H. Cappellar, of the Mansfield News, was their chief clerk. About the time of which I write Mr. Ellis was sent to the front by this firm to take charge of the money end of the business.

Mr. Ellis told me that he had arrived in the midst of a pay day rush, and at the close of the days business, on checking up, the receipts were about a thousand dollars short, and on the following day fifteen hundred dollars in excess. According to his tabulation the day's receipts run from seven to ten thousand dollars on such occasions. Each clerk made his own change and his own report. The story of their settlement was amusing and was like this:

"Why, Bill, you are short."

"No, I am not," said he. "That is all I have."

The next day:

"Why, Bill, you have too much money."

"No, I haven't," was his reply. "I'm dead sure for I've none of my own, and it must belong to the firm."

I have seen canned peaches or other fruit sell for a dollar and a half each.

"Why would a solder pay such a price?" you may ask.

Like the 'children of Israel' in the wilderness, longing for the flesh pots of Egypt, 'when they did remember the garlic and leeks they did eat there.' just so with the boys in the army. The very taste of mother's preserves and other sweetmeats were still lingering in their mouths, and their longings were only intensified by seeing those dainties displayed daily, and in the end must be satisfied at any cost.

Lure of the Game

Gambling: Whence came this enslaving passion? From education or from instinct, which? Instinct, undoubtedly. Man never planted a seed without hope for increase. Man never invests his means without expecting a profit. And then there is a joy in the getting something from nothing, that cannot be explained to the satisfaction of either honesty or righteousness.

A short distance in the rear of our camp was a grove of forest trees. This grove is cleaner that the general run of southern woodland. Instead of being overgrown with briars and underbrush, it was free from those and carpeted with grass like a lawn. It no doubt had been so beautified by the negro labor for the purpose of pasture. In this a great crowd of soldiers had congregated for the purpose of gambling. I had entered the grounds and sought one of the groups. Greenbacks were piled high on the numbers on the board. An officer on some general's staff rode up to the group, watched the game a few moments, then took out his roll, skinned off $50 and handed it to a soldier and instructed him to place it upon the six. Two sixes were under the box. When the bet was paid to the soldier he handed the officer $100, who returned him a ten and rode away. In a short time he returned, looked on for awhile as before, then took out his roll and counted $100. At least twenty hands reached for it, having seen of his generosity before.

"I can't accommodate you all," said he.

"Where is my old partner?"

"Here," was the answer.

"Place it on the three."

When the box was raised there were two threes. When the bet was paid the soldier again received the same generous fee and the officer again rode away.

But I had discovered the cause of his luck. All expert chuck-a-luck shakers finger two of the dice (three are used). One only is rattled in the box, the other two held by the little finger. The number with the least money on it was invariably kept up, and shoved under the box when turned upside down on the board. The officer, from his elevated position, could look over the shaker's head and see the dice and his bet was never made until the box was turned on the board with the dice under it. The gambler always waited a moment before raising the box, and during that time the officer would direct the placing.

You see he had needed a partner, and one who understood. I inferred that they knew each other.

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