r of refreshments. "Good Union men," who had sold
their cotton to the Yankees, shook the Treasury-notes in the faces of
the Union prisoners, saying they had been paid for their property, and
had the pleasure of burning it before the "d----d Abolition
scoundrels' eyes."

CINCINNATI COTTON-DEALERS IN TROUBLE.

A number of cotton-buyers were robbed of whatever money they had on
their persons, and some of them are said to have lost from five to ten
thousand dollars apiece, which is, probably, an exaggerated statement.
W. W. Cones, of Cincinnati, saved a large sum by an ingenious trick.
He had twenty-eight thousand dollars on his person when the enemy
entered the place, and immediately throwing off his citizen's garb, he
attired himself in the cast-off gauntlets of a private soldier,
entered the Magnolia House, employed as a hospital, and, throwing
himself upon a bed, assumed to be exceedingly and helplessly sick,
while the foe remained. As soon as the rebels had departed, he became
suddenly and vigorously healthy, and walked into the street to
denounce the traitors. He declared his eleven hours' sickness caused
him less pain, and saved him more money than any illness he ever
before endured. D. W. Fairchild, also of the Queen City, in addition
to losing fifty bales of cotton, was robbed of his pocket-book,
containing forty-five dollars, in the following manner: When
captured, he was taken before General Jackson, popularly known as
"Billy Jackson," considered a high representative of chivalry and
soldiership in this benighted quarter of the globe. Jackson inquired
of Fairchild, in a rough way, if he had any money with him? To which
the party addressed answered, he had a trifling sum, barely sufficient
to pay his expenses to the North. "Hand it over, you d----d nigger
thief," roared the high-toned general, who, as soon as the
porte-monnaie was produced, seized it, thrust it into his pocket, and
rode off with a self-satisfied chuckle. What a noble specimen of
chivalry is this Jackson! He has many kindred spirits in the South,
where vulgar ruffians are apotheosized, who would, at an earlier time,
have been sent to the pillory. "Sixteen-string Jack," and all that
delectable fraternity, whose lives bloom so fragrantly in the pages of
the saffron-hued literature of the day, would have spat in the faces
of such fellows as Jackson, had they dared to claim the acquaintance
of persons so much their superiors.

When the rebels wer