A SUGARED TONGUE.
Col. Geo. A. Gordon was a pleasant, persuasive speaker and in his address to the company urging its division so as to complete the quota necessary for a regimental organization he held out to us a tempting array of promises as to our treatment if his wishes were complied with. An Irish member of his old company heard the speech and in commenting on it said, "Faith, the sugar on his tongue is an inch thick."
The Oglethorpes, though serving as infantry, had retained their artillery organization and Gordon in his plea for a division, said that the incorporation of such an organization into an infantry regiment would be an anomaly—that we would be "nyther fish, flesh nor fowl," giving the English pronunciation to the word "neither." Some time afterward the Colonel was making his Sunday morning inspection of quarters and had reached Elmore Dunbar's tent. As some of Dunbar's mess were sick, he had hoisted a yellow handkerchief over the tent and with a piece of charcoal had placed on its front the sign, "Wayside Home." Gordon saluted as he came up, and then noticing the sign said, "Sergeant, what is your bill of fare today," "Nyther fish, flesh nor fowl," said Dunbar, and the Colonel smiled and went his way.