"Yes, I do," reiterated the child.
"Why, sissy, what makes you hate Yankees?"
"'Cause mother told me I must," was the child's reply.
The mother blushed crimson, and said, very confusedly, "Why, Hattie! I Never!"
Picket Talk.
I have often heard pickets chaff one another. Just after the capture of New Orleans, one of our boys, on picket duty, as light dawned, discovered a rebel just lighting his breakfast-fire up a ravine. Our picket called out to the rebel to stop building fires and come over and take breakfast with him. The rebel replied:
"No, I shan't, You haven't got any coffee."
"Yes, I have," says the Union soldier.
"Well, you haven't any sugar?"
"Yes, we have. We've got Orleans."