"Why don't you go over there to the camp, and get something to eat?' she asked; "haven't they got plenty over there?"
"Madam," I said solemnly, "there are men over there who have not had a bite to eat for three days."
"Is that so?" she asked in a relenting tone, and I saw at once that I had gained the point I wanted—her sympathy.
"Yes, madam, that is true, and for my part, I have been wandering about all night to find something to eat; but the boys all said they had nothing, or else that they couldn't spare it, so I came off over here."
"Poor fellows!" she said, "why, I didn't know our soldiers were so hard up as that."
"Madam, I must come in and warm," I said; "for I am really freezing," and suiting the action to the word, I started in.
"Well, wait," she said, half scared, "till I make a fire, and you may come in."
In a few moments she had a bright fire of fat pine blazing, and she called me in. She had also put her clothes on, and wrapped a shawl around her. I sat by the fire some time and warmed, when she called to a younger woman, and told her to go out in the kitchen and find me something to eat. In a little while she returned, bringing a large, "flat cake" of corn bread and a piece of raw bacon, which she gave me, and I proceeded to appease my appetite. When I got through eating, I resumed the conversation with,
"Madam, these are troublesome times, and these are days when we all need friends; you, perhaps, need friends, and so do I. You befriend me to-night, to-morrow I may have it in my power to help you."
"Why," said she, "what do you want?"