It is really a subject of regret with the writer to be compelled to state that, notwithstanding the remarkable strength of emphasis employed by this young man, the beautiful consistency of his narrative (its parts we mean), and his apparent desire to anticipate and provide against attacks of this character, that his evidence was discredited in some leading points, if not altogether overthrown, by the testimony of the witness who followed. This was Jerry Stubbs, a mill-boy oracle, and a youth whose antecedents were otherwise good. His first onset was directed against the figures of his predecessor, which were given a very crooked appearance indeed, when placed against the fact that the entire raid--artillery, baggage-wagons, horse, foot, and buttons--had been self-immured in the paternal horse-lot (80 x 100 feet) of the said Stubbs, for the space of from one to twenty minutes, or considerably more, or a great deal less--could not be exact as to time. He had likewise made a critical examination into the equestrian belongings of the raid, and the horses were not black, but white; and finally, he felt morally assured, despite the confident utterances of those who had preceded him, that the raiders were not mounted, but rode in covered ambulances. When the witness had concluded, there was a general clamor of dissent; a dozen voices were heard attempting to speak at once; and when, by courtesy of the hearers, each had been allotted a chance at the salient features of his narrative, perhaps no one was better convinced than J. S. himself that he had seen none of the occurrences which he had attempted to relate. Oliver (colored), the miller, was, perhaps, a more reliable witness than any of those who had preceded him, not simply because he had greater experience of men and things, but his opportunities of informing himself on the occasion referred to had been likewise superior. He had not only seen the raiders, but had actually been interviewed by them. He slept in the mill, and during the night had been aroused from his sleep could not tell how, nor exactly when, but did not doubt that the agency was supernatural. Proceeding to the door, he saw what he supposed to be "sperrits," mounted on what he thought resembled horses, though he afterwards satisfied himself of the fallacy of the latter conclusion. He could not take observations with any degree of system, however, as he was kept busy carrying water from the tank to the "thirsty sperrits," who had made this call, it thus seems, with a selfish end in view. One of the party, after having replenished his boilers to the tune of a bucketful, loosened his belt and called for more, remarking aside to him, and apparently in extenuation of the act, that it was the first he had quaffed since being condemned to death by fate and the enemy's bullets at Shiloh.