e need of it would compel
the European nations to recognize the independence of the Southern
Confederacy, and which would thereby result in the speedy and complete
triumph of the Confederate cause. But in thus reasoning they ignored a
law of human nature. Men, under the pressure of necessity, can get
along without many things which they have previously regarded as
indispensable. At this day, in my opinion, many of the alleged wants of
mankind are purely artificial, and we would be better off if they were
cut out altogether. Aside from various matters of food and drink and
absurdities in garb and ornaments, numbers of our rich women in eastern
cities regard life as a failure unless they each possess a thousand
dollar pet dog, decorated with ribbons and diamond ornaments and
honored at dog-functions with a seat at the table, where, on such
occasions, pictures of the dogs, with their female owners sitting by
them, are taken and reproduced in quarter-page cuts in the Sunday
editions of the daily papers. If these women would knock the dogs in
the head and bring into the world legitimate babies, (or even
illegitimate, for their husbands are probably of the capon breed,) then
they might be of some use to the human race; as it is they are a
worthless, unnatural burlesque on the species. But this has nothing to
do with the war, or the 61st Illinois, so I will pass on.

While we were at the Black river railroad bridge thousands of paroled
Confederate soldiers captured at Vicksburg passed us, walking on the
railroad track, going eastward. We had strict orders to abstain from
making to them any insulting or taunting remarks, and so far as I saw,
these orders were faithfully obeyed. The Confederates looked hard. They
were ragged, sallow, emaciated, and seemed depressed and disconsolate.
They went by us with downcast looks and in silence. I heard only one of
them make any remark whatever, and he was a little drummer boy,
apparently not more than fifteen years old. He tried to say something
funny,--but it was a dismal failure.

While in camp at the railroad crossing on Black river, a most agreeable
incident occurred, the pleasure of which has not been lessened by the
flight of time, but rather augmented. But to comprehend it fully, some
preliminary explanation might be advisable. Before the war there lived
a few miles from our home, near the Jersey Landing settlement, a quaint
and most interesting character, of the name of Benjamin F