"And beg, good Mr. Yankee-men,
You'd give me some Long Jack;
Please do, when we get some again,
I'll surely bring it back.
"And so I came; for Ned, says he,
'If you do what you say,
You'll be a general yet, maybe,
And ride a prancing bay.'"
We brimmed her tiny apron o'er,—
You should have heard her laugh,
As each man from his scanty store
Shook out a generous half.
To kiss the little mouth stooped down
A score of grimy men,
Until the sergeant's husky voice
Said "'Tention, squad?" and then,
We gave her escort till good-night
The little waif we bid,
Then watched her toddle out of sight,
Or else 'twas tears that hid.
Her baby form nor turned about,
A man nor spoke a word,
Until at length a far faint shout
Upon the wind we heard,
We sent it back, and cast sad eyes
Upon the scene around,
That baby's hand had touched the ties
That brother's once had bound.
That's all, save when the dawn awoke:
Again the work of hell,
And through the sullen clouds of smoke
The screaming missiles fell.
Our colonel often rubbed his glass,
And marvelled much to see,
Not a single shell that whole day fell
In the camp of Battery B.