roysterers is led by a
chaplain, as was the case yesterday, all right-minded people
will be indignant. It is said by our informant that the
chaplain of a certain cavalry regiment was the liveliest one
of the crowd, that he rode into a billiard room, caused his
horse to place its forefeet on the bar, and that he played a
better game of billiards on horseback than many worldly men
can play on foot. It is the duty of the commanding officer
to discipline his chaplain. The chaplain also beat the boys
several horse races while in town, and they say he is a
perfect horseman, and has one of the finest horses ever
seen here, which he probably stole."
I had a boy bring me a paper every morning, and I read the article
before the chaplain awoke, and destroyed the paper. Early the next
morning the colonel sent for the chaplain, placed him under arrest, and
the good man came back to the tent feeling pretty bad. I asked him what
was wrong, and he said he was under arrest for conduct unbecoming an
officer and a gentleman. He said charges were preferred against him for
drunkenness and disorderly conduct, horse-racing, playing billiards on
horse-back, riding his horse into a saloon and trying to jump him over
the bar, and lots of things too numerous to mention. I felt sorry for
him, and told him I had been fearful all along that he would get
into trouble by going away from me so much, and associating with the
chaplains of the other regiments, but I had never supposed it would come
to this.
"Wine is a mocker," said I, becoming warmed up, "and none of us can
afford to tamper with it. With me, it does not make so much difference,
as I have no reputation but that which is already lost, but you, my dear
sir, think of your position. Go to the colonel and confess all, and ask
him to forgive you," and I wiped my eyes on my coat sleeve.
"But I was not drunk," said the chaplain, indignantly. "I was not in a
saloon, and never saw a game of billiards in my life. I was over to
the New Jersey regiment, talking with their chaplain about getting up a
revival, among the soldiers," and the good man groaned as he said, "it
is a case of mistaken identity."
"Bully, elder," said I. "If you can make the court-martial believe you,
you will be all right, and you will not be cashiered. But it looks dark,
very dark, for you. May heaven help you."
The chaplain was worried all the morning, and the of
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