He took his place, and we fired simultaneously. I heard a ball go whistling by a barn about a quarter of a mile on my right; and, when the smoke cleared away, I saw the secesh picket approaching me with an awful expression of woe on his otherwise dirty countenance.
"Soldier," says he, "was there anything in my head before you fired?"
"Nothing," says I, "save a few harmless insects."
"I speak not of them," says he. "Was there anything inside of my head?"
"Nothing!" says I.
"Well," says he, "just listen now."
He shook his head mournfully, and I heard something rattle in it.
"What's that?" I exclaimed.
"That," says he, "is your bullet, which has penetrated my skull, and is rolling about in my brain. I die happy, and with an empty stomach; but there is one thing I should like to see before I perish for my country. Have you a quarter about you?"
Too much affected to speak, I drew the coin from my pocket and handed it to him.