giving us particular directions how we should find the home of William Paxton, he said no more. We bade the sick man and family "good-night," and left the house. Before we had reached the fence, one of the children opening the door called out to us to wait a minute. We waited, and the boy brought us one corn-dodger. Taking it, we expressed our thanks, and went on our way. On getting some distance from the house, we debated as to the propriety of seeking Paxton's aid. We feared Paxton was a Rebel. It seemed strange that a late follower of Buckner, and a Confederate home guard, should give directions to escaping Federals; but as he had given us bread from his limited supply and had told us just how to avoid and get around a certain house where Confederate guards often met, we concluded to follow his directions, if possible, and if we found things as represented, we would go to Paxton's. It was seven miles to Paxton's house, which was situated on the road as it passed over a mountain. After going some four miles on the road, we came to the house where the Rebels congregated. It was near the road, and lights shone from all the windows. We passed some distance south of it, but near enough to hear the noise of revelry. At a point nearly two miles west of this house, we should have gone on the mountain; but owing to the indistinctness of the road, and the darkness of the night, we missed our way. When we found we were off the right track, we retraced our steps for over a mile. As it was near morning we began a careful search for the point where the mountain road led off to the left from the other, and found it just at day-break. We could now do nothing but look out for a hiding-place for the day, Sunday, March 6th.