"My rations are S.B.,
Taken from porkers three
Thousand years old;
And hard-tack cut and dried
Long before Noah died,—
From what wars left aside
Ne'er can be told."
"What do you mean by 'S.B.'?" laughed Noel.
"Sometimes 'tis said to mean 'salt bacon,' and then again maybe 'tis 'salt beef,' and sometimes we call it 'soaked beans.' Whatever it is I have had my fill of it. Shure, Noel, me boy, it's you and I that will be feasting ourselves on some roast pork before to-morrow mornin'."
"Look at those pickaninnies!" exclaimed Noel, as he pointed to a little hut from which a stream of black-faced urchins appeared, who were rushing to join their companions in the road and watch the two approaching Union soldiers.
"Wait 'til I sing them a song, too," exclaimed Dennis; and once more he began to sing,—
"Ole massa run, ha! ha!
De darkies stay, ho! ho!
It must be now dat de kingdom's comin'
And de year of Jubilo."
In addition to the crowd of dusky-faced children several older negroes now joined the group to watch the passing Union soldiers. The boys in blue were still such a novelty to many of the slaves that their appearance usually served to summon speedily a band of the admiring dusky spectators.
Dennis, unfamiliar with the colored people and their ways, had never ceased to express his dislike of them. Many a time in the camp when the soldier boys had wanted to have a little sport they would call upon Dennis to "cuss the niggers," by which term they described Dennis's oratorical efforts. Standing upon the head of a barrel, or mounting some box near the quarters of the sutler, with his ready tongue Dennis promptly poured forth a steady stream of almost meaningless words that were supposed to be descriptive of his feeling of antipathy toward the people for whose liberty he was fighting.
In the company of negroes at this time assembled to watch the passing of the two young soldiers there was one woman, manifestly an old field-hand, whose size was so immense as to be impressive. The admiration with which the woman gazed upon Dennis was returned in the expression of astonishment with which the young Irish soldier stared at this huge negress.
"Shure, Noel," he exclaimed to his friend in a loud whisper, "'tis not an ounce liss than four hundred pounds she weighs."