Chapter Seven

In the village where I was temporarily residing when I enlisted there dwelt an old man by the name of Blair. I knew nothing of this old gentleman except by reputation, and this only from my boy companions.

Now if there ever was a village that could boast of a boy saint, that distinction was of short duration, for under the average standard of young morality, if he did not die from loneliness, it would be because he became disgusted and sought a more congenial climate. Now, these boys were not worse than the ordinary boys, yet, for the sake of truth, I must say that if awards were being made for deviltry, they would compare favorably with those of any community.

Old Billy Blair, as he was called, never had a pleasant smile for nay of those boys. I will not state why, because I think you are able to make you own deductions. So my estimate of the old man's character was established according to the weight of the evidence of his traducers. "A cross-grained, crabbed old skin flint."

One day while in camp in Kentucky, word came that a large box, filled with useful articles, had been sent from our village as a gift to her boys. There was a great rejoicing among those interested, because winter was coming on. The cold winds of November had already begun to search for the unprotected parts of our bodies. I expected nothing, because I had been but a stranger in the village. Nearly every family had a representative, as about fifty had enlisted from this little town in our regiment. The whole population did not exceed five hundred inhabitants. But my name was called and when I received my bundle it was large and heavy. And when I opened it, behold, a "Benjamin's mess," for I had received a double portion, both in quantity and quality. While examining my store I came to a letter addressed to myself. It read as follows:Blair's Kindly Letter

"My Dear Boy - I am perhaps a stranger to you, but you are not unknown to me. I noticed when you left for camp that while all others had friends to bid them good-bye, you were neglected and alone, so I wish you to remember that you have a friend by the name of William Blair"

It would be but natural that I should grant him a new trial, and on the strength of newly discovered testimony reverse the former decision.

And when I started on my first long march of twenty miles, with a burden of fifty pounds, which increased to almost a ton before I began to unload, do you ever wonder why I threw away everything else and held on to Billy Blair's gifts until I fell by the roadside exhausted?

Today I have lost all, except the clothes on my back. My precious gifts are most regretted. All old soldiers will remember the order: 'Unsling knapsacks,' because there were but few who ever saw them again, and thus lost their all. For the knapsack contained about all of a soldier's belongings - even his best girl was often stored away beneath its folds.

This morning our knapsacks were piled, when the regiment deployed as skirmishers. We did not advance very far, neither were we a long time upon the line, but when we returned many of our knapsacks were missing. The guard told us that they had been used to fill a chuckhole in the road so the heavy batteries could pass over. " No use to cry over 'spilled milk," I said. "Good-bye Billy Blair."

After floundering in mud and water until completely exhausted, we were at last brought to a halt in a field where cotton had grown the year before. When our arms were stacked we were told in a suppressed whisper that no fires would be allowed and no talking permitted. We must make ourselves as comfortable as possible until our tents should arrive. Did we make ourselves comfortable? We did, for we were so tired that even a chronic growler could not spare energy enough to kick.Cheer Unvanquished

It matter not whether the duties were heavy or light; whether the weather was fair or foul, there were always a few that would be boys in spite of all, and among those indefatigable ones was our Frank Brown. I do not call him Brown because that was not his name, but because it is his name. He is the same old Frank Brown today that he was forty-seven years ago. A little bit battered and twisted, a little bit gray and wrinkled, but just as full of life and ginger as ever. It is true that he is somewhat embarrassed by the heavy mortgages he placed upon his splendid physique during his service. These debts are now falling due, as he is nearing the time allotted to man. He is living at Morning Sun, a blacksmith by trade, a Presbyterian by profession, and a good neighbor, loved and respected by all. I cannot recall Frank's offense on this occasion. It was slight, all offenses were slight, most especially if it were stealing. But we never used that word, it sounded too vulgar and criminal. We preferred 'forage.' The next morning when the tents arrived, he, with some other unfortunates, was sent to put up the colonel's tent. The work was done in a slipshod and unsatisfactory manner. So when the colonel came and inspected the job there was music in the air and words were spoken that did not sound like "Well done, etc." When the tent was straightened up and the guy ropes made taut so the canvas would rebound like the head of a drum to the touch, the colonel again looked over the job. By this time quite a crowd of soldiers had gathered to see the fun.

Colonel Liked It

"Boys," said the colonel, "I promised you fellows a dose of extra duty that you would remember as long as you live, and I'm going to make that promise good this morning, Horace Greeley," said he, turning to his contraband servant (whom he had so named when he came into camp), go to my mess chest and bring my pistol here." The darkey soon returned with a broad grin on his face and a black bottle in his hand. "Drink heartily, boys," said the colonel as he passed it to the waiting culprits.

When Frank returned to his own tent, he sought his bunkie and said: "Johnnie, there's just three people in the big world that I love better than you."

"Who are they?" Johnnie inquired.

"Mammy Brown, Granny Brown and Colonel Ferd VanDerveer."

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