Starts home on veteran furlough--Trouble at the table--Bluffs the Captain--Suspected of being a rebel spy--Commissioned officer serves him at the table--Kind attentions at home--Silences an old maid--Returns to the front--Shot at twenty-one times--The remedy--A Union lady--The dwarf weaver--The weaver beheaded--Goes into Marietta as a spy--Confederate side of the lines--Escape from the rebs--General McPherson's death--Hard fighting. Early in March, 1864, my regiment went home from Vicksburg on veteran furlough, and I accompanied it. Every thing passed off pleasantly on our homeward trip, save that, now and then, it became difficult for a man like myself, without shoulder-straps, to get admitted to the table for meals. We were embarked on board the steamer Continental. She had on board, besides our own, a New York regiment, going home from New Orleans. I was a stranger to them, and was frequently halted by them when they were on guard. This I might have prevented by procuring an order, or pass, entitling me to the full privilege of the boat; but I chose to keep my real character disguised, except to such as personally knew me. On one occasion, after having imbibed rather freely at the bar--nothing unusual for some soldiers on veteran furlough to do--I sat down to dinner without having procured a ticket, and placed a five-dollar bill by the side of my plate for the clerk of the boat to take his pay from. The Captain's son came round for tickets, in place of the clerk, and, seeing my bill lying there, and supposing that I was in too happy a frame of mind to take notice of so slight a mistake, picked it up and walked off. That aroused my anger--or rather my liquor--and I called out, "Stop! you d--d thieving son of a b--h! Bring back that money." Finding that he was caught in the act, he came back and gave me the change. While he was making the change, I gave him a regular cursing. The chaplain of the New York regiment was sitting at the table opposite to me. The loud talking brought crowds of officers and others to see what was up, and with them the boy's father, who took me to task for such disrespect to his boat in presence of the chaplain. "Chaplain, h--l!" said I. "Do you think that I would sit here and see your son steal my money without saying any thing? He deserves something worse than curses. He ought to have his neck stretched. As for chaplains, they are no better than other folks. Some will steal, or hire soldiers to do it for them. We had a chaplain in our regiment, who said to me once, 'Bunker, can't you bring me in a good horse?' 'Yes, I can bring you in a good horse.' 'Well, I wish you would. I can't pay you the full value of the horse, but I'll pay you for your trouble.' 'Oh, never mind the trouble, chaplain,' said I; 'you preach the boys a good sermon some Sunday morning, and _I'll steal you a horse_!'"