Pleased to the last, he does a deal of good,
And licks the man just sent to shed his blood."
I am weeping, my boy.
While on my lonely beat, about an hour ago, a light tread attracted my attention, and looking up, I beheld one of secesh's pickets standing before me.
"Soldier," says he, "you remind me of my grandmother, who expired before I was born; but this unnatural war has made us enemies, and I must shoot you. Give me a chaw terbacker."
He was a young man, my boy, in the prime of life, and descended from the First Families of Virginia.
I looked at him, and says I:
"Let's compromise, my brother."
"Never!" says he. "The South is fighting for her liberty, her firesides, and the pursuit of happiness, and I desire most respectfully to welcome you with bloody hands to a hospitable grave."
"Stand off ten paces," says I, "and let's see whose name shall come before the coroner first."