," and

"The old woman who kept a peanut stand,
And a big policeman stood by with a big stick in his hand,"

And Arthur Fulghum halloes out, "All right; go ahead! toot, toot, toot!
puff, puff, puff! Tickets, gentlemen, tickets!" and the Maury Grays
raise the yell, "All aboard for Culleoka," while Walker Coleman commences
the song, "I'se gwine to jine the rebel band, fightin' for my home."
Thus we go, marching back to Resacca.

BATTLE OF RESACCA

Well, you want to hear about shooting and banging, now, gentle reader,
don't you? I am sorry I cannot interest you on this subject--see history.

The Yankees had got breeches hold on us. They were ten miles in our rear;
had cut off our possibility of a retreat. The wire bridge was in their
hands, and they were on the railroad in our rear; but we were moving,
there was no mistake in that. Our column was firm and strong. There was
no excitement, but we were moving along as if on review. We passed old
Joe and his staff. He has on a light or mole colored hat, with a black
feather in it. He is listening to the firing going on at the front.
One little cheer, and the very ground seems to shake with cheers.
Old Joe smiles as blandly as a modest maid, raises his hat in
acknowledgement, makes a polite bow, and rides toward the firing.
Soon we are thrown into line of battle, in support of Polk's corps.
We belong to Hardee's corps. Now Polk's corps advances to the attack,
and Hardee's corps fifty or seventy-five yards in the rear. A thug, thug,
thug; the balls are decimating our men; we can't fire; Polk's corps is in
front of us; should it give way, then it will be our time. The air is
full of deadly missiles. We can see the two lines meet, and hear the
deadly crash of battle; can see the blaze of smoke and fire. The earth
trembles. Our little corps rush in to carry off our men as they are shot
down, killed and wounded. Lie down! thug, thug! General Hardee passes
along the line. "Steady, boys!" (The old general had on a white cravat;
he had been married to a young wife not more than three weeks). "Go back,
general, go back, go back, go back," is cried all along the line.
He passes through the missiles of death unscathed; stood all through that
storm of bullets indifferent to their proximity (we were lying down,
you know). The enemy is checked; yonder they fly, whipped and driven
from the field. "Attention! By the right flank, file left, march!
Double q