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[8] explained that he found the heat of the coffee prevented its use by others and adopted the plan of placing his cup on the fire after every sip. This same character never troubled himself to carry a canteen, though a great water drinker. When he found a good canteen he would kindly give it to a comrade, reserving the privilege of an occasional drink when in need. He soon had an interest in thirty or forty canteens and their contents, and a drink of water if it was to be found in any of them. He pursued the same plan with blankets and always had plenty in that line. His entire outfit was the clothes on his back and a haversack accurately shaped to hold one half pone of corn bread.

Roasting-ear time was a trying time for the hungry privates. Having been fed during the whole of the winter on salt-meat and coarse bread, his system craved the fresh, luscious juice of the corn, and at times his honesty gave way under the pressure. How could he resist?--he didn't — he took some roasting ears! Sometimes the farmer grumbled, sometimes he quarreled and sometimes he complained to the officers of the depredations of “the men.” The officers apologized, eat what corn they had on hand and sent their “boy” for some more.

One old farmer conceived the happy plan of inviting some privates to his house, stating his grievances and securing their co-operation in the effort to protect his corn. He told them that of course they were not the gentlemen who took his corn! Oh no! of course they would not do such a thing; but wouldn't they please speak to the others and ask them please not to take his corn? Of course I certainly! oh yes! they would certainly remonstrate with their comrades. How they burned though as they thought of the past and contemplated the near future. As they returned to camp through the field they filled their haversacks with the silky ears, and were met on the other side of the field by the kind farmer and a file of men who were only too eager to secure the plucked corn “in the line of duty.”

A faithful officer, worn out with the long, weary march, sick, hungry and dejected, leaned his back against a tree and groaned to think of his inability to join in the chase of an old hare, which, he knew from the wild yells in the wood, his men were pursuing. But the uproar approached him — nearer, nearer and nearer until he saw the hare bounding towards him with a regiment at her heels. She spied an opening made by the folds of the officer's cloak and jumped in and he embraced his first meal for forty-eight hours.

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