When this was opened Si read:
"Dear Boys: Now you will understand the comb business. I
wanted to make sure that my letter reached the right men,
and the combs were the only things I could think of at the
moment. Mrs. B. will prize them, though she will never think
of using them, either on herself or one of her shock-headed
brats. I want you to play it on her as far as your
consciences will allow. Pretend that you are awful sick of
this Abolition war, and tired fighting for the nigger, and
all that stuff. Make her the happiest woman in
Tennessee by giving her all the coffee you can spare. That
will fetch her quicker and surer than anything else. Like
most Southern women, she is a coffee-drinker first and a
rebel afterward, and if some preacher would tell her that
heaven is a place where she will get all the Yankee coffee
she can drink, she would go to church regularly for the rest
of her life. Tell her a lot of news—as much of it true as
you can and think best; as much of it otherwise as you can
invent. Follow her cautiously when she leaves camp. Don't
let her see you do so. You will find that she will lead you
to a nest of spies, and the place where all the whisky is
furnished to sell in camp. I write you thus freely because I
am certain that this will get in your hands. I know that
your regiment is out here, because I have been watching it
for a week, with reference to its being attacked. It won't
be for at least awhile, for there's another hen on. But make
up to the old lady as much as your consciences and stomachs
will allow you. It will be for the best interests of the
service.
"Sincerely your friend, Levi Rosenbaum."
"I wonder what game Levi is up to?" Si said, as he stood with the letter in his hand and looked at the woman. "I'll give her all the coffee I can and be very civil to her, but that's as far as I'll go. The old rebel cat. I'll not lie to her for 40 Levi Rosenbaums."
"Well, I will," said Shorty. "You fix her up with the coffee, and leave the rest to me. I always had a fancy for queer animals, and run off from home once to travel with a menagerie. I'd like to take her up North and start a side-show with her. 'The Queen o' the Raccoon Mountains,' or the 'Champion Snuff-Dipper o' the Sequatchie Valley.' How'd that do for a sign?"
"Well, go ahead," said Si. "But expect no help from me."
"Mr. Klegg, when I want your help in courtin' a lady I'll let you know," said Shorty with dignity. Si went back to the tent to see about getting the coffee, and Shorty approached Mrs. Bolster with an engaging expression on his countenance. She was knocking the ashes out of her pipe.
"Let me fill your pipe up again. Madam, with something very choice," said he, pulling out a plug of bright natural leaf. "Here's some terbacker the like o' which you never see in all your born days. It was raised from seed stole from the private stock of the High-muk-a-muk o' Turkey, brung acrost the ocean in a silver terbacker box for the use o' President Buchanan, and planted in the new o' the moon on a piece o' ground that never before had raised nothin' but roses and sweet-williams. My oldest brother, who is a Senator from Oshkosh, got just one plug of it, which he divided with me."
"O, my! is that true?" she gurgled.
"It's as true as that you are a remarkably fine lookin' woman," he said with unblushing countenance, as he began whittling off some of the tobacco to fill her pipe. "I was struck by your appearance as soon as I saw you. I always was very fond of the Southern ladies."
"Sakes alive, air y'?" she asked; "then what air yo'uns down here foutin' we'uns fur?"