remembered seeing lank Tell Taliaferro, adjutant of the Twenty-fourth, jumping like a kangaroo and rubbing his crazy bone and blessing the Yankees in a way that did credit to old Jube Early's one-time law partner, and handsome Ocey White, the boy lieutenant of Company A, taking off his hat to show me where a ball had raised a whelk on his scalp and carried away one of his pretty flaxen curls, and lastly, Old Buck Terry, with a peculiarly sad smile on his face, standing with poor George and Val Harris and others, between the colors of the Eleventh and Twenty-fourth, near where now is the pretty monument of Colonel Ward, of Massachusetts.
I could not hear what he said, but he was pointing rearwards with his sword, and I knew what that meant.
As I gave one hurried glance over the field we had traversed, the thought in my mind was repeated at my side, Oh!
Colonel, why don't they support us?
It was Walker, General Kemper's orderly, unhorsed, but still unscathed and undaunted, awkward,