en or seventeen years old,
and some little children. Their surname was Leadbetter, which I have
always remembered by reason of the incident I will mention. The house
was a typical pioneer cabin, with a puncheon floor, which was uneven,
dirty, and splotched with grease. The girl was bare-footed and wearing a
dirty white sort of cotton gown of the modern Mother Hubbard type, that
looked a good deal like a big gunny sack. From what came under my
observation later, it can safely be stated that it was the only garment
she had on. She really was not bad looking, only dirty and mighty
slouchy. We wanted some butter, and asked the matron if she had any she
could sell us. She replied that they were just going to churn, and if
we'd wait until that was done, she could furnish us a little. We waited,
and when the job was finished, handed the girl a pint tin cup we had
brought along, which she proceeded to fill with the butter. As she
walked towards us to hand over the cup, her bare feet slipped on a
grease spot on the floor, and down she went on her back, with her gown
distinctly elevated, and a prodigal display of limbs. At the same time
the cup fell from her grasp, and the contents rolled out on the dirty
floor, like melted lard. The girl arose to a sitting posture, surveyed
the wreck, then laid down on one side, and exploded with laughter--and
kicked. About this time her mother appeared on the scene. "Why, Sal
Leadbetter!" she exclaimed, "you dirty slut! Git a spoon and scrape that
butter right up!" Sal rose (cow fashion) to her feet, still giggling
over the mishap, and the butter was duly "scraped" up, restored to the
cup, and this time safely delivered. We paid for the "dairy product,"
and left, but I told Frank I wanted none of it in mine. Frank responded
in substance, that it was all right, every man had to eat his "peck of
dirt" in his life time anyway,--and the incident was closed. I never
again saw nor heard of the Leadbetter family from that day, but have
often wondered what finally became of poor "Sal."

While we were at Owl creek the medical authorities of the army put in
operation a method for the prevention and cure of malaria that was
highly popular with some of the boys. It consisted of a gill of whisky,
largely compounded with quinine, and was given to each man before
breakfast. I drank my first "jigger," as it was called, and then quit.
It was too intensely bitter for my taste, and I would secretly slip my
allowa