. Slaten. He
owned and lived on a farm, but had been admitted to the bar, and
practiced law to some extent, as a sort of a side-line. But I think
that until after the war his practice, in the main, was confined to the
courts of justices of the peace. He was a shrewd, sensible old man, of
a remarkably kind and genial disposition, but just about the homeliest
looking individual I ever saw. And he had a most singular, squeaky sort
of a voice, with a kind of a nasal twang to it, which if heard once
could never be forgotten. He was an old friend of my father's, and had
been his legal adviser (so far as his few and trifling necessities in
that line required) from time immemorial. And for a year or so prior to
the outbreak of the war my thoughts had been running much on the
science of law, and I had a strong desire, if the thing could be
accomplished, to sometime be a lawyer myself. So, during the period
aforesaid, whenever I would meet "Uncle Ben" (as we frequently called
him), I would have a lot of questions to fire at him about some law
points, which it always seemed to give him much pleasure to answer. I
remember yet one statement he made to me that later, (and sometimes to
my great chagrin,) I found out was undeniably true. "Leander," said he,
"if ever you get into the practice of law, you'll find that it is just
plum full of little in-trick-ate pints." (But things are not as bad now
in that respect as they were then.) The war ensued, and in September,
1862, he entered the service as Captain of Co. K of the 97th Illinois
Infantry. He was about forty-two years old at this time. In due course
of events the regiment was sent south, and became a part of the Army of
the Tennessee, but the paths of the 61st and the 97th were on different
lines, and I never met Capt. Slaten in the field until the happening of
the incident now to be mentioned.

When we were at Black river I was on picket one night about a mile or
so from camp, at a point on an old country road. Some time shortly
after midnight, while I was curled up asleep in a corner of the old
worm fence by the side of the road, I was suddenly awakened by an
energetic shake, accompanied by the loud calling of my name. I sprang
to my feet at once, thinking maybe some trouble was afoot, and, to my
surprise, saw Capt. Keeley standing in front of me, with some other
gentleman. "Stillwell," said Keeley, "here's an old friend of yours. He
wanted to see you, and being pressed for time