the Texas, beside the smoke stack,
viewing the ever changing scenery of the grand old Mississippi. I was
drinking in the scenery, and the fresh air, and wondering if it could
be possible that there could be war, and killing, anywhere in this broad
land, when all was so peace-ful and beautiful on the river, when I felt
something strike me on the pantaloons most powerfully, and I looked
around and a gentleman was just removing a large sized boot from my
person. I was about to reprove him for kicking me, a total stranger, who
had not even presented letters of introduction to me, when he said, in a
voice that was deep down in his chest, "get down below." I did not feel
like arguing with a man of so violent a nature, and I went down the
narrow stairs, after he had said he would throw me overboard if I did
not hurry. I learned afterwards that he was the mate of the steamboat.
I could see that he had mistaken me for a common soldier, which I would
not admit was the case, but I went down stairs, probably looking hurt.
I was hurt. I went into the cabin and sat down on one of the sofas, to
think, when a colored person told me to get off the sofa. As he seemed
to know what he was talking about I got on. I saw a bar, where officers
of the army and passengers were drinking, and I went up and asked for a
whisky sour, thinking that would relieve the pain and cause my injured
feelings to improve. The bar tender told me to go out on deck and I
could get plain whisky through a window where the negro deck hands got
their drinks, but I could not drink with gentlemen. That was the first
day that I realized that in becoming a soldier I had descended to a
level with negro deck hands and roustabouts, and could not be allowed
to associate with gentlemen. Soon the gong rung for supper, and I went
into the cabin and sat down to the table for a square meal, the other
seats being filled with army officers and passengers. I was going to
give my order to a waiter, when he called an officer of the boat, who
told me to get up from the table and go below, as the cabin was intended
for gentlemen and not soldiers. My idea was to kick against being turned
out, but I thought of the mate's boot, and I went out, went down on the
lower deck with the recruits, and eat some bread and meat. I was rapidly
becoming crushed. I talked my experience over with the boys, and they
all agreed with me that the way we were treated was an outrage on
American soldiers, which we