fairly yelled: “I know that book! I lost it at Bull Bun!” “That's where I got it, Mr. Yank,” said the rebel, and he handed it to Alex. “I am much obliged to you, Georgia Legion, for I wouldn't part with it for all the Southern Confederacy.” I was a little curious to know something further of the book, so I asked Alex. to let me see it. He passed it to me. I opened it, and on the fly-leaf saw written in a neat hand: “My Christmas-gift, to Alex.----, December 25th, 1860. Ella.” “Well, Alex.,” said I, “it's not often one has the same gift presented to him a second time.” “True, Captain; and if I could but see the giver of that to-day, there's but one other gift I would want.” “What's that, Alex.?” “This rebellion played out, and my discharge in my pocket.” The boys had all been busily talking to our rebel friend, who, seeing a horseman approaching in the direction of his post, bid us a hasty good-by, and made as quick a trip as possible across the Rappahannock. Night came on, and those not on duty lay down on the frozen ground, to dream of other Christmas nights, when we knew not war.
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