"Well, there now!" said the sentinel, "if it ain't just a little darkey, and I guess I've frightened him half to death. Come here, snowball."
The child crept up, and said, tremblingly: "'Deed, massa, I ain't got nuffin ter gib yer."
"Well, who asked you to give me anything?"
"Yer don ax me fer gib yer suffin jes' now; and I ain't got nuffin 'cep' my close what I got on."
"Well, you needn't fret; I don't want 'em. Corporal of the guard! Post two."
The corporal hastened to "post two," and found the sentinel with his hand on the shoulder of a little black boy, who, between fear, fatigue, and hunger, was unable to give any account of himself. "I'll take him to Captain Leigh," the corporal said; "he's officer of the day. Maybe he'll be able to get something out of him."
The captain stood in front of his tent, looking out into the night, when the corporal and his charge approached.
"Captain," said he, "here's a boy just come into the lines."
"Very well; you can leave him here."
At the first sound of the captain's voice the boy drew nearer to him, as knowing instinctively that he had found a friend.