t down at the edge of the stony
road ready to cry. His bosom had indeed begun to heave, when in an
instant all was changed. Legs forgot their weariness, the heart its
dismay, for just across the road, motionless beside a hollow log, what
should he see but a cotton-tail rabbit. As he stealthily reached for his
weapon the cotton-tail took two slow hops and went into the log. Charge
bayonets!--pat-pat-pat--slam! and the stick rattled in the hole, the
deadly iron at one end and the deadly boy at the other.

And yet nothing was impaled. Singular! He got his eyes to the hole and
glared in, but although it was full of daylight from a larger hole at
the other end, he could see no sign of life. It baffled comprehension.
But so did it defy contradiction. There was but one Resource: to play
the rabbit was still there and only to be got out by rattling the
bayonet every other moment and repeating, in a sepulchral voice,
"I--I--I'm gwine to have yo' meat fo' dinneh!"

He had been doing this for some time when all at once his blood froze as
another voice, fifteen times as big as his, said, in his very ear--

"I--I--I'm gwine to have yo' meat fo' dinneh."

He dropped half over, speechless, and beheld standing above him,
nineteen feet high as well as he could estimate hastily, a Yankee
captain mounted and in full uniform. John leaped up, and remembered he
was in gray.

"What are you doing here all alone, Shorty?"

"I dunno."

"Who are you? What's your name?"

"I dunno."

The Captain moved as if to draw his revolver, but brought forth instead
a large yellow apple. Then did John confess who he was and why there.
The Captain did as much on his part.

He had risen with the morning star to do an errand beyond Widewood, and
was now getting back to Suez. This very dawn he had made Judge March's
acquaintance beside his broken wagon, and had seen him ride toward Suez
to begin again the repair of his disasters. Would the small Confederate
like to ride behind him?

Very quickly John gave an arm and was struggling up behind the saddle.
The Captain touched the child's back.

"Owch!"

"Why, what's the matter? Did I hurt you?"

"No, sir."

The horse took his new burden unkindly, plunged and danced.

"Afraid?" asked the Captain. John's eyes sparkled merrily and he shook
his head.

"You're a pretty brave boy, aren't you?" said the stranger. But John
shook his head again.

"I'll bet you are, and a tol'able good boy, too, aren't