Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert

At last he emerged from the dank, sombre pine forest into a clearing, where was a comfortable farm house, and not far from the woods he ran upon an old fellow seated on the top rail of an old Virginia snake fence, with his spinal column comfortably supported by one of the cross stakes, a short-stemmed, blackened corncob pipe in his mouth, his neglected, stubby beard bristling all over his face, and his entire figure and bearing expressive of ill-temper and despair.

“Good morning,” said Tuck.

“Mornin‘,” responded the old chap.

“Seen anything of the Yankees?”

“Yes, the infernal thieves cleaned me out day before yestiddy.”

“What's that plow doin‘ standing in that ‘ere furrow?”

“Why, the damn Yankees stole the mules right out of it. Didn't leave me a hide or hoof on the place.”

“I've got a good pair of mules here,” said Tuck.

“Well, go there to the gate, come right in and hitch up, and we'll go snacks on the crap.”

The bargain was closed as promptly as proposed. Tuck plowed until the dinner horn blew. Then he and Dragon and Logan went to the sound of it, as if they had been “bred and born” on the place. Tuck watered and fed his mules at the stable and himself at the house, touching his hat to the old man's pretty daughter as he entered.

In due course of time he married her, and he owns that farm to-day.

Thus the house of Tucker rode into home and fortune upon “my mules,” which its illustrious founder swore “the infernal Yankees sha'n't never git!”

Some little time since, in a conversation with Mr. George Cary Eggleston, he remarked that, years ago, perhaps during the war, I mentioned to him an estimate of General Meade which I had heard General Lee express, about the time of Meade's appointment to succeed Hooker in command of the Army of the Potomac. I do not now quite see how I could have overheard the remark precisely at the time indicated, but I have no doubt the story, as far as Lee's estimate of Meade is concerned, is essentially true. As the