I
nebber stole dat sheep. I nebber go atter de sheep, an' I weren't
studyin' 'bout no animals. I was des walkin' long de road past a man's
house whar dis here big, devilish-lookin' old sheep come er runnin'
right at me wid his head down--an' I lammed him wid er stick ter save my
life, sah. An' den when he fell, I knowed hit wuz er pity ter leave him
dar ter spile, an' so I des nachelly had ter fetch him inter de camp ter
save him. Man, you sho is rude ter talk dat way."
The guard was obdurate until Julius began to describe how he cooked
roast mutton. He finally agreed to accept his version of the battle with
the sheep as authentic if he would bring him a ten pound roast to test
the truth of his conversation.
Julius was still harping on the rudeness of this guard as he fanned the
flies off John's table with a sassafras brush at supper.
"I don't know what dey ebber let sech poor white trash ez dat man git in
er army for, anyhow!" he exclaimed indignantly.
"We have to take 'em as they come now, Julius. There's going to be a
draft this summer. No more volunteers now. Wait till you see the
conscripts."
"Dey can't be no wus dan dat man. He warn't no gemman 'tall, sah."
John rose from his hearty supper and strolled along the line of his
regiment, recruited again to its full strength of twelve hundred men.
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