The Daily Dispatch: March 21, 1863., [Electronic resource]

Ventriloquism.

‘ Last night 4 called on Col. Scott, of the Louisiana cavalry. You have often heard of him in western campaigns, While in Kentucky, his negro boy, who has followed him since the war began, disrobed a dead Yankee, and assumed the garb of a Federal sergeant — While on his way to Richmond, a ventriloquist, one of the tribe of Benjamin, learned the story connected with the negro's apparel. After nightfall, when the negro was nodding with a valise between his feet, a deep-toned voice proceeded from it.

Voice--I say, Sam, wake up; them's my clothes you've got on.

Sam--Who's dat ? (The Colonel says that Sam's eyeballs protruded a foot when the carpet-sack began the colloquy.)

Voice--I'm Ichabod Smith of the 13th Connecticut, killed at Lexington, Kentucky. You robbed me of my clothes.

Sam--Fore God, massa Yankee, I didn't spec you'd want em no more.

Voice--Off with em, d — n you.

In less than a minute Sam shucked himself. There he stood in the fireless car, on a cold winter night. His teeth chattering, his napped wool straightened, and his eyes rolled about in the agony of hopeless terror. Never since has Sam touched the Yankee clothes.

’