ver a murmur of dissent when he told how Little Compton had insisted
on wearing his Federal uniform.

"Great Jiminy Craminy!" Major Jimmy Bass would exclaim; "don't we all
know Little Compton like a book? And ain't he got a right to wear his
own duds?"

Rockville, like every other railroad town in the South at that period,
had become the site of a Confederate hospital; and sometimes the
hangers-on and convalescents paid brief visits of inspection to the
neighboring villages. On one occasion a little squad of them made their
appearance on the streets of Hillsborough, and made a good-natured
attempt to fraternize with the honest citizens who gathered daily at
Perdue's Corner. While they were thus engaged, Little Compton, arrayed
in his blue uniform, passed down the street. The visitors made some
inquiries, and Major Bass gave them a very sympathetic history of Little
Compton. Evidently they failed to appreciate the situation; for one of
them, a tall Mississippian, stretched himself and remarked to his
companions:

"Boys, when we go, we'll just about lift that feller and take him along.
He belongs in Andersonville, that's where he belongs."

Major Bass looked at the tall Mississippian and smiled.

"I reckon you must 'a' been mighty sick over yander," said the major,
indicating Rockville.

"Well, yes," said the Mississippian; "I've had a pretty tough time."

"And you ain't strong yet," the major went on.

"Well, I'm able to get about right lively," said the other.

"Strong enough to go to war?"

"Oh, well, no--not just yet."

"Well, then," said the major in his bluntest tone, "you better be
mighty keerful of yourself in this town. If you ain't strong enough to
go to war, you better let Little Compton alone."

The tall Mississippian and his friends took the hint, and Little Compton
continued to wear his blue uniform unmolested. About this time Atlanta
fell; and there were vague rumors in the air, chiefly among the negroes,
that Sherman's army would march down and capture Hillsborough, which, by
the assembly of generals at Perdue's Corner, was regarded as a strategic
point. These vague rumors proved to be correct; and by the time the
first frosts fell, Perdue's Corner had reason to believe that General
Sherman was marching down on Hillsborough. Dire rumors of fire, rapine,
and pillage preceded the approach of the Federal army, and it may well
be supposed that these rumors spread consternation in the air. Major