"Turn that up and sit down," said he; whereupon the orderly opened his eyes in wonder. There was a much wider gulf between the officers and privates in the rebel army than there was in our own, especially after the war had been going on for about a year. The sons of rich men, who had shouldered a musket at the beginning, began working their way out of the ranks, leaving behind them only those who were too poor or too low in the social scale to command the influence that was necessary to bring them a commission. As a rule rich people in the South did not think much of poor white trash. The latter were good enough to fight and obey orders, but scarcely good enough to be treated with civility; so when General Howard told his visitor to turn up the cracker box and sit down on it, the orderly straightway made up his mind that Rodney Gray was a little better than the common run of folks, even if he was a private soldier.
"I don't suppose you have thought of me once since I bid you good-by at that woodcutters' camp," said the general, throwing himself upon a rude couch and propping his head up with his hand. "But I have often thought of you, and a few months ago I was down Mooreville way on a scout. I passed right by your father's plantation, and finding out who he was, and being a trifle hungry besides, I dropped in and invited myself to dinner with him and your mother."
Rodney was delighted to hear this, but all he said was that he hoped the general had enjoyed his visit.
"I assure you I did, and the dinner too," was the smiling reply. "And during the hour I passed there I learned a good deal concerning your life in Missouri, and heard some portions of your letters read. Your parents were much surprised to know that I met you on your way up the river, and I renewed to them the promise I believe I made you on the steamer that if I could ever do you a fatherly kindness I would. I am glad to see you in my brigade, but I don't quite understand how it comes that you are still a private. Haven't you done your duty, or wouldn't your officers push you?"
"The fault is my own, sir," answered Rodney. "I might have gone higher but I didn't care to."
Then he went on to tell the general about Dick Graham. The latter was a Barrington boy too, he said, and they had made it up between them that it wouldn't be worth while for them to accept promotion, for they had only a year to serve, and besides they did not want to run the risk of being separated.
"Oh, as to that, you mustn't expect to stick together all the time," replied the general. "The exigencies of the service will not admit of it; you know that yourself. Still I will try to do something for your friend too, if I find upon inquiry of your regimental and company officers that he is worthy. I lost four of my staff at the battle of Farmington, and, if you like, will order you and Sergeant Graham to present yourselves for examination."
Rodney fairly gasped for breath, and wished that the general had not taken quite so deep an interest in him. The crisis was coming now, and he nerved himself for it.
"I am very much obliged, general," he faltered. "But my time will be up in about two weeks, and I should like to go home and see my folks."'
Rodney expected that his superior would be surprised to hear this, and his actions showed that he certainly was, and a little angry, as well. He arose to a sitting posture on the couch, and jammed the tobacco down in his pipe with a spiteful motion as he said, rather curtly: