fire between on the ground, while there was a
raised floor on each side. We also learned Uncle Tom had another lodger in
the person of a young Georgia cracker who professed to belong to a pontoon
corps. Uncle Tom had the appearance of being well raised--one of the
old-time colored gem-en, who had but little patience for po' white folks
and especially soldiers of uncertain reputations. It was a cold,
mid-January night when Uncle Tom got down his heavy comforts and made his
bed. He had more cover than all of us, and a couple of us insisted that we
sleep with him. But Uncle Tom drew the color line on us and objected most
emphatically to any such close relations. He said he was used to sleeping
by himself and could rest better, besides, he was afraid of dem ar
buggers. He was very careful about letting his bedding come in contact
with our blankets. We were kind to Uncle Tom, and he soon became
reconciled and quite sociable. While here one day our Georgia cracker
shouldered his gun and made a foray several miles up the south side of
railroad in quest of pork or anything else to eat. He returned that
evening with about a bushel of corn. He said he found some cars loaded
with corn on a side-track and had broken in and helped himself. He said,
"As I come along up yonder I met General Lee. I saluted him as politely as
I could, but he looked at me powerful hard, and I thought he was going to
ask me where I got that corn, but he didn't. He was going out to where his
big dam had broken loose, and was near where the canal was washed out. I
stopped and watched him pass there, and he never looked out that way at
all. I don't believe General Lee cares a damn about his big dam breaking
and washing out the canal and railroad." There were a few fat hens that
ranged in our wagon yard. The next evening our cracker took a handful of
his corn and passed innocent-like near a large, gentle hen, and dropping a
few grains on into our shop quarters, the hen, following, was soon inside
and the door was closed; and that hen failed to return home to roost.
Uncle Tom was out at the time and never knew where that chicken came from.
The next morning, when Uncle Tom was shown how thick the grease was on the
pot, he said, "That sho' is a fat chicken." Then we told him if he had
joined our mess and let us sleep with him he would have had a share in the
chicken pot. He said he never did care a great deal about chicken any way.
A few days later we got a good,