Tears rushed to his eyes as he said, "Thank you, sir! you are too kind." Evidently he was weak, and as evidently unaccustomed to find any one "too kind."
"Thee has on the army blue; has thee been fighting any?"
"Yes, sir!" he answered, promptly.
"I didn't know black men were in the army; yet thee has lost a leg. Where did that go?"
"At Newbern, sir."
"At Newbern,—ah! long ago? and how did it happen?"
"Fourteenth of March, sir. There was a land fight, and the gunboats came up to the rescue. Some of us black men were upon board a little schooner that carried one gun. 'Twasn't a great deal we could do with that, but we did the best we could; and got well peppered in return. This is what it did for me,"—looking down at the stump.
"I guess thee is sorry now that thee didn't keep out of it, isn't thee?"
"No, sir; no indeed, sir. If I had five hundred legs and fifty lives, I'd be glad to give them all in such a war as this."
Here somebody got out; the old Friend sat down; and the coal-heaver, roused by the stir, lifted himself from his drunken sleep, and, looking round, saw who was beside him.