Not far from Beaver Dam we rode by a Virginia farmhouse. It was a one-story building, with chimneys on the outside and an “entry” running through the center. Two or three plantation hands stood near the fence, grinning and shouting: “Bress de Lawd!” “Hyar cum 'Massa Linkum's sojers--bress de Lawd! O, Glory!” “Are you glad to see us, Uncle?” “Yes, massa, 'deed I is.” “Where's the 'massa'?” “He run and gone. Must be de king-dom com-in'.” The old darky had struck the keynote of one of the ditties that were immensely popular in the Union army. The boys took up the song. They made it ring as they rode along: “Say, dar-keys, hab you seen de mas-sa, Wid de muff-stash on his face, Go long de road some time dis morn-in', Like he gwine to leab do place? He seen a smoke, way up de rib-ber, Where de Link-um gum-boats lay; He took his hat, an' lef' berry sud-den, An' I 'spec he's run a-vvay! _Chorus_: “De mas-sa run? ha! ha! De dar-keys stay? ho! ho! It mus' be now de king-dom com-in', An' de year ob Ju-bi lo!” At another farmhouse we found a new-made grave in the dooryard. It was just inside the gate, and to the right of the walk leading up to the porch. The earth heaped over the grave was still moist, which showed that it had been filled in during the morning. A spade with the letters “C. S. A.” burned in the handle, lay beside the mound. At one of the windows of the farmhouse we saw the faces of two or three young ladies. They had been weeping, but it seemed as if they were holding back their tears till the Yankees should get out of sight. We concluded that the grave in the yard was that of their brother. The eyes of many of Sheridan's raiders filled with tears as they came to understand the situation, and their minds went back to their own homes and the dear ones in the North. Mother, sister, sweetheart--in a few days they might be weeping over the news of the death of their soldier boy. Every voice was hushed. With uncovered heads the troopers rode by. Their hearts were moved with sympathy for the distressed household. A staff officer inquired of an old negro who was drawing water for the soldiers at a well near the house: “Whose grave is that, Uncle?” “Young Massa Tom's, sah.” “And who was 'Massa Tom'?” “He war missus's only son.” “And the brother of the young ladies at the window?”