CHAPTER XV.
So one good afternoon, J. B. Thomas, a good clever comrade and good soldier, and myself took a stroll and incidentally looking for something to eat. We passed a vegetable garden, a luxury we seldom enjoyed. On the side of the pailings were some squashes. Thomas remarked, I wish I had some of them. I said, "Well, slip one of those palings and get a few, I'll be on the watch out." No sooner said than done. Thomas gathered about a dozen the size of my fist. He stuck them in his shirt bosom. I gave him the alarm that the lady was watching him. As he looked up he saw her at the other end of the garden. He started through the opening he had made quicker than a rabbit could have done when pursued by hounds. Thomas is a man of small stature and very short legged, but he split the air to beat the band. We were both in our shirt sleeves, no vests, only wore pants confined around the waist by a belt, the squashes were bobbing up and down in his shirt, as he progressed and the proprietress after him. Finally the squashes lifted the shirt out of his confines and down came the squashes rolling on the ground. Thomas did not stop, but casting a regretful side glance at his booty, he sped on to camp, while his garment was floating to the breeze, caused by his velocity. When the woman reached the spot where the squashes lay scattered, she stopped, looking after the fleeing individual and sending a full vocabulary of invectives after him. I who had followed leisurely caught up while she gathered her squashes into her apron. I remarked, "Madam, you seem to have spilled your vegetables." "No, it was not me that spilled them, it's that good for nothing somebody, there he runs—he stole them out of my garden." I said, "He ought not to have done it, if I knew who he was I would report him." She said, "I would not have minded to give him some if he had asked me for them, but I don't like for anybody to go into my garden and take what belongs to me." Poor woman, she had no idea that within a few days after our departure, the enemy would appear and not only appropriate the needful, but would destroy all the rest to keep her from enjoying any of it. She offered me some of the squashes which I accepted with thanks. I carried them to Thomas, saying she would have given you some if you had asked for them. Thomas replied, he wished he had known it.