on the ground
waiting the breakfast call. The Captain was assisting Jess in putting
on the finishing touches to the tempting meal, as well as doing the
honors to his distinguished guests. When all was ready he ordered Jess
to bring out the biscuits. After an unusual long wait, as it may have
appeared to Captain Nance under the condition of his appetite and the
presence of his superiors, he called out, "Why in the thunder don't
you bring out the biscuits, Jess?" Still blankets were overturned and
turned again, knapsacks moved for the fourth or fifth time, yet Jess
hunted faithfully in that little four by six tent for the plate of
biscuits. "Why in the h----l don't you come on with the biscuits,
Jess?" with a pronounced accent on the word "Jess." Meanwhile Jess
poked his black, shaggy head through the tent door, the white of his
eyes depicting the anguish of his mind, his voice the despair he felt,
answered: "Well, Marse John, before God Almighty, ef somebody ain't
tooken stole dem bisket." Tableaux!! Twenty-five years afterwards at a
big revival meeting at Bethel Church, in Newberry County, a great many
"hard cases," as they were called, were greatly impressed with the
sermons, and one especially seemed on the point of "getting religion,"
as it is called. But he seemed to be burdened with a great weight.
At the end of the service he took out Captain Nance and expressed
a desire to make a confession. "Did you ever know who stole your
biscuits that night at Frederick City?" "No." "Well, I and Bud
Wilson--" But Captain Nance never allowed John Mathis to finish, for
as the light of that far-off truth dawned upon him and seemed to
bring back the recollection of that nice brown chicken and the missing
biscuits he said: "No, I'll never forgive you; go home and don't try
for religion any longer, for a crime as heinous as yours is beyond
forgiveness. Oh, such depravity!" It appears since that two of his
most intimate friends had robbed him just for the fun they would have
over his disappointment in the morning and the chagrin the Captain
would experience, but the biscuits were too tempting to keep.

On the morning of the 17th we were yet ten miles from Sharpsburg,
where Lee had drawn up his army around that little hamlet and along
Antietam Creek, to meet the shock of battle that McClellan was
preparing to give. The battleground chosen was in a bend of the
Potomac, Lee's left resting on the river above and around to the front
to