An officer had a wooden leg so exceedingly well made that it could scarcely be distinguished from a real one. A cannon ball carried it off. A soldier who saw him fall called out, “Quick, run for the surgeon.” “No,” replied the officer, coolly; “it is the joiner I want.”
“Squashy.”
Squashy was a contraband. He came from North Carolina. He was looking about Washington for “a new masser,” when Dr. ——, of —— regiment C. V., took him for a body servant.
SQUASHY’S SURGICAL OPERATION ON THE DOCTOR.
The doctor was out on horseback at parade that very day, and the most that Squashy had as yet learned of his master was, that he was handsome.
“Dat’s him! Dar’s my new masser! see um! see um! ridin’ on hoss-back, dar!” exclaimed the contraband to a host of other negroes watching the parade.