ecitative, and let the funeral discourse proceed.
Their memories are a vast bewildered chaos of Jewish history and biography; and most of the great events of the past, down to the period of the American Revolution, they instinctively attribute to Moses.
There is a fine bold confidence in all their citations, however, and the record never loses piquancy in their hands, though strict accuracy may suffer.
Thus, one of my captains, last Sunday, heard a colored exhorter at Beaufort proclaim, Paul may plant, and may polish wid water, but it won't do, in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have recognized himself.
Just now one of the soldiers came to me to say that he was about to be married to a girl in Beaufort, and would I lend him a dollar and seventy-five cents to buy the wedding outfit?
It seemed as if matrimony on such moderate terms ought to be encouraged in these days; and so I responded to the appeal.
December 16, 1862.
To-day a young recruit appeared here, who had
lines well traced by the Fourth New Hampshire during the previous occupation.
It did great credit to Captain Trowbridge, of my regiment (formerly of the New York Volunteer Engineers), who had charge of its construction.
How like a dream seems now that period of daily skirmishes and nightly watchfulness!
The fatigue was so constant that the days hurried by. I felt the need of some occasional change of ideas, and having just received from the North Mr. Brook's beautiful translation of Jean Paul's Titan, I used to retire to my bedroom for some ten minutes every afternoon, and read a chapter or two.
It was more refreshing than a nap, and will always be to me one of the most fascinating books in the world, with this added association.
After all, what concerned \me was not so much the fear of an attempt to drive us out and retake the city,--for that would be against the whole policy of the Rebels in that region, as of an effort to fulfil their threats and burn it, by some nocturnal
m, with the young clinging to the natural pouch; an armful of great white, scentless pond-lilies.
After dinner, to the tangled garden for rosebuds or early magnolias, whose cloying fragrance will always bring back to me the full zest of those summer days; then dress-parade and a little drill as the day grew cool.
In the evening, tea; and then the piazza or the fireside, as the case might be,--chess, cards,--perhaps a little music by aid of the assistant surgeon's melodeon, a few pages of Jean Paul's Titan, almost my only book, and carefully husbanded,--perhaps a mail, with its infinite felicities.
Such was our day.
Night brought its own fascinations, more solitary and profound.
The darker they were, the more clearly it was our duty to visit the pickets.
The paths that had grown so familiar by day seemed a wholly new labyrinth by night; and every added shade of darkness seemed to shift and complicate them all anew, till at last man's skill grew utterly baffled, and the clew mu
De prettiest ting dat ever I done Was to serve de Lord when I was young.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c. O, Satan is a liar, and he conjure too, And if you don't mind, he'll conjure you. So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c. O, I was lost in de wilderness, King Jesus hand me de candle down.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c.
The following contains one of those odd transformations of proper names with which their Scriptural citations were often enriched.
It rivals their text, Paul may plant, and may polish wid water, which I have elsewhere quoted, and in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have recognized himself.
in the morning. In de mornin‘, In de mornin‘, Chil'en?
Yes, my Lord!
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
If I had a-died when I was young, I never would had de race for run. Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
Sam and Peter was fishin‘ in de sea, And dey drop de net and follow my Lord.
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
Dere's a silver spade fo<