"As the old Rebel saw the preparations he groaned out, 'My God! and only four inches in the barrel George! mind, the barrel in the corner.'
"Knowing the darkie would be all right, we followed
under pretty stiff loads, the old man bringing up the rear, staggering to the door and getting down the steps on his hands and knees.
"The Captain tasted both barrels. One in a corner was commissary that the darkie said 'Massa had dickered for just the day afore.' The other was well nigh empty. George, old as he was, had the steadiest hands, and he filled the canteens one by one, closing their mouths on the cedar spigot. As he did it, he whispered, 'Dis'll make de ole nigger feel good. Massa gets flustered on dis and 'buses de ole wimin. De commissary fotches him—can't hurt nuffin wid dat.'
"'There's devilish little to fluster him now,' said the Captain, as he tipped the barrel to fill the last canteen.
"The old man had stuck at the bottom of the steps. George fairly carried him up, and he lay almost helpless on the floor.
"'That last toast,' said the Captain, as we left the room, 'will knock any Rebel.'
"George held the horses, and I rather guess steadied our legs as we got on, well loaded with apple juice inside and out. The Captain's spurs sent the black mare off at a gallop, over rocks and bushes, and he left me far behind in a jiffy. But I did in earnest act as an aid before we got to camp. I found him near the place where we turn in, fast between two scrub oaks, swearing like a trooper at the pickets, as he called the bushes, for arresting him, and unable to get backward or forward. His swearing saved him that clip, as it was dark, and I would have gone past if I hadn't heard it."
"I move the adoption of the report, with the thanks of the meeting to Major-General Franklin and his
genuine Aid," said the Adjutant, after a stiff drink all around.