d said, "Pard, you ain't dead worth a cent," and then he hugged
me, and added, "but there ain't enough left of you for a full size
funeral." Then he unrolled the package he had in his hand, and dropped
on the bed four silver-plated coffin handles. By that time the girl,
and the six boys had seen me, and they came over, and we had a regular
visit. They were all surprised to find me alive, as they had been
notified that I was on my last legs, and would be buried in the morning,
and the captain had detailed the six boys to act as pall-bearers and
fire a salute over the grave, while Jim and the girl were to act as
mourners.

"Well, it saves ammunition," said Jim. "But how be I going to get these
coffin handles off my hands. There is no dependence to be placed on
doctors, anyway. When that doctor appointed this funeral, we thought he
knew his business, and I told the angel, say I, 'My pard ain't going
to be buried without any style, in one of those pine boxes that ain't
planed, and has got slivers on.' So I hired the hospital coffin-maker
to sand-paper the inside and outside of a box, and black it with
shoe-blacking, and I went to a store down town and bought these handles.
Of course, pard, I am glad you pulled through, and all that, but I want
to say to you, if you had croaked in the night, and been ready to bury
this A. m., you would have had a more stylish outfit than anybody,
except officers, usually get in this army, and the angel and I would
have been a pair of mourners that would have slung grief so your folks
to home would have felt proud of you."

The angel was tickled to see me alive, and suggested to Jim and the
boys, that it was easy to talk a fellow to death after he had been so
sick, and told them to go back to camp, and she would stay with me all
day. So the boys shook hands with me, and Jim had an attendant to roll
my cot up to a window, so I could see my horse when they rode away. The
boys got on their horses and Jim led my horse, and I could see that my
pet had been fixed up for the occasion. He had the saddle on, and it was
draped with black, a pair of boots were fastened in the stirrups, and
my carbine was in the socket. The idea was to have my horse, with empty
boot and saddle tied behind the wagon that took me to the cemetery where
soldiers wind up their career. It was not a cheerful thing to look at,
and to think of, but it did me good to see the old horse, and the boys
ride away in good health, and h