But what we all enjoyed most was the singing. There was an excellent quartette in our room and they carried us back to our boyhood days by singing such songs as, “Home, Sweet Home,” “Down upon the Swanee River,” and “Annie Laurie.” When they sang patriotic songs all who could sing joined in the chorus. We made that old rebel prison ring with the strains of “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Columbia’s the Gem of the Ocean,” and the like. The guards never objected to these songs and I have caught the low murmur of a guard’s voice as he joined in “Home, Sweet Home.” But when we sang the new songs which had come out during the war, such as, “Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!” and the “Battle Cry of Freedom,” they were not so well pleased. We use to tease them by singing, “We will hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree, As we go marching on.” And— “We are springing to the call from the east and from the west, Shouting the battle cry of freedom, And we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.” About that time a guard would call out. “Yo’, Yanks up dah, yo’ stop dat kyind of singing or I’ll shoot.” “Shoot and be dammed.”— “For we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, &c.” would ring out loud and clear for an answer, and then BANG would go the guard’s gun, answered by a yell of derision from the prison. We suffered very much from cold that winter at Danville for we had no fire. It is true we had a stove and some green, sour gum wood was furnished but it would not burn, and then we made some weak and futile attempts to burn stone coal but it was a failure. The proportions were not right, there was not coal enough to heat the stone, and so we went without fire. For bedding, I had an oil-cloth blanket and my “pard” had a woolen blanket. But an oil-cloth blanket spread on a hard floor, does not “lie soft as downy pillows are.” It did seem as though my hips would bore a hole through the floor. One day a rebel officer with two guards came in and ordered all the men down from the third and fourth floors, then stationing a guard at the stairs, he ordered them to come up, two at a time. I was in no hurry this time to see what was going on, so I awaited further developements. Soon after the men had commenced going up, a note fluttered down from over head. I picked it up, on it was written, “They are searching us for money, knives, watches and jewelry.” Word was passed around and all who had valuables began to secrete them. I had noticed that this class of fellows were expert at finding anything secreted about the clothing, so I tried a plan of my own. Taking my money I rolled it up in a small wad and stuffed it in my pipe. I then filled my pipe with tobacco, lit it and let it burn long enough to make a few ashes on top, then let it go out. Then I went up stairs with my haversack. The robbers took my knife and fork, but did not find my money.