e, an' de membiers of dat riggiment had been footin' it long enough
to have wo' out a good deal er shoe-leather. They was thusty an' hungry,
an' come to de halt near my cabin to require if dar warn't no vittles
lyin' roun' loose for de good er de country. When dey was gone, my new
boots was gone, what I'd jest brung home from de cobbler."

His audience broke into a shout of enjoyment.

"Dat 'ar incerdent stirred up my paketriotit feelin's consider'ble at de
moment. I couldn't seem to see it in de light what p'raps I oughter seen
it in. I rared roun' a good deal, an' fer a moment er two, I didn't seem
tar mind which side beat de oder. Jest dat 'casion. I doan' say de
sentiment continnered on, but jest dat 'casion seemed ter me like dar was
a Yank somewhars es I wouldn't hev ben agin seein' takin' a whuppin' from
some'un, Secesh or no Secesh."

"What else did ye lose, Unc' Matt?" someone said when the laugh died
down.

"Well, I lose a wife--kinder cook dat dar ain't no 'demnity kin make up
fer when de Lawd's removed 'em. An' 'pears to me right dar, dat if I
wusn't a chu'ch member, I shed be led on ter say dat, considerin' what a
skaseness er good cooks dar is, seems like de good Lawd's almost wasteful
an' stravagant, de way he lets 'em die off. Three uv 'em he 'moved from
me to a better worl'. Not as I'm a man what'd wanter be sackerligious;
but 'pears to me dar was mo' wuk fur 'em to do in dis hyer dark worl' er
sin dan in de realms er glory. I may be wrong, but dat's how it seem to a
pore nigger like me."

"The Government won't pay for yer wife, Matt," said the owner of the
market waggon.

"Dat dey won't, en dat dey cayn't," said Matt. "Dat las' woman's gumbo
soup warn't a thing to be 'demnified fer, dat it warn't. But what I'm a
aimin' at is to fin' out what dey _will_ pay fer, en how much. Dar was
one mawnin' I sot at my do' reflectin' on de Gawsp'l, an' de Yanks come
jest a tarin' down de road, licketty switch, licketty switch, yellin'
like de debil let loose, en firin' of dere pistols, an' I gotter 'fess I
los' a heap a courage dat time--an' I los' a heap o' breath runnin' 'way
from 'em en outer sight. Now I know de Gov'ment not gwine ter pay me fer
losin' dem things, but what _is_ dey gwine pay for losin'?"

"Property, they say--crops 'n' houses, 'n' barns, 'n' truck wuth money."

Uncle Matt removed his hat, and looked into the crown of it as if for
instruction before he wiped his forehead and put it on aga