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Sergeant Oats, Prison Life in Dixie: giving a short history of the inhuman and barbarous treatment of our soldiers by rebel authorities 2 0 Browse Search
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as good as he could, so as not to cause mother more sorrow than was actually necessary. The whole prison was crowded around the gate; and as the names were called by a loud-voiced rebel, some countenance would light up with joy as he answered, Here! and you would see him struggle through the crowd to the gate and disappear through the wicket. We three stood together, near the deadline. John Carey! called the reb. Here!-and he was through the wicket before I could look at him. Allen Spencer! Here! Cudge gave me his hand: Good-bye, Oats. Good-bye, Cudge, --and he slipped through the wicket and the door swung to. I staggered back through the crowd. They were gone! I had no farther interest in the gate or in the crowd. I was alone! My comrades had left me to die! Blinded by my tears, and sick through the intensity of my feelings, I reached our tent-my tent, now-and lay down. Our talk of home had given me the blues. I could see nothing but darkness and sorrow,