and played "Dixie" and "My Maryland." As she finished she swung around on her chair and glanced at each of us in a way that said, what do you think of that. We complimented her and asked her to play the "Star Spangled Banner," and "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean" which she did as a favor. My friend then asked her to play the Marsellaise. She did not recognize it. Would he hum it?--she might remember it. He hummed it, but it was evident she did not know it. Finally, she said in a rather saucy way, "Why don't you play it yourself?" He said he would if it was agreeable. A plainly dressed private soldier sat down to the piano but from that moment the instrument seemed inspired. He played the "Marsellaise," "The Watch on the Rhine;" then he played a number of selections of dance music from Strauss and other things. If he stopped they would say, "Oh don't stop, play something else." For nearly an hour he played ahead--those people and I as well were charmed; it was interesting to see those girls glance at each other and at their mother at times when the music was especially interesting. When finally he did stop, the saucy distant airs of the girls were gone, they had become our friends. We were then less disposed than before to leave, and when we did go it was with the understanding that we would come again and in future buy all our hens' eggs from them. We did no drilling while there. Our principal duties were picketing the roads leading into the town from the south, east and west, keeping the brass plates on our accoutrements and our shoes, well polished. Reports of guerrillas being in adjoining towns reached us from time to time, but as those men never really wanted to fight, but only to steal, they never approached very near Mt. Sterling. In talking with one of the Union men of the village one day about the people who were in sympathy with the South he said, "Zeek Jones over there was until lately one of the biggest Rebels in the blue grass region; he preached it and he sung it until the Rebel cavalry came along and bought out all his horned cattle, horses, potatoes and general truck and paid him in Confederate money; then he sung a new tune--he's been cursing them ever since. He sits up nights to swear about them. Nothing like that to bring a man around, stranger," and the old man haw-hawed right heartily.