"Why, Sheridan," laughed the other officer, "this is a feather out of your cap. I thought your fellows had cleared out every hen-roost within twenty miles of Petersburg already."
"I fancy they have emptied most of them," the general said grimly.
"Where do you come from, lad?"
"I comes from over there," Vincent said, jerking his thumb back. "I lives there with mother. Father and the other boys they have gone fighting Yanks; but they wouldn't take me with them 'cause I ain't sharp in my wits, though I tells them I could shoot a Yank as well as they could if they showed me."
"And who do you suppose all those men are?" General Sheridan asked, pointing toward the trenches.
"I dunno," Vincent replied. "I guess they be niggers. There be too many of them for whites; besides whites ain't such fools to work like that. Doesn't ye want any fowl?" and he drew back the cloth and showed the contents of the basket.
"Take them as a matter of curiosity, general," the other officer laughed. "It will be downright novelty to you to buy chickens."
"What do you want for them, boy?"
"Mother said as I wasn't to take less nor a dollar apiece."
"Greenbacks, I suppose?" the officer asked.
"I suppose so. She didn't say nothing about it; but I has not seen aught but greenbacks for a long time since."