"What in the world's going on at the house?" Si asked anxiously, as they were standing on the regimental parade ground waiting to be dismissed. Strange sounds came floating from that direction. The scraping of a fiddle was mingled with yells, the rush of feet, and laughter. "I'll go over there and see," said the Deacon, who had sat down behind the line on a pile of the things they had brought back with them. He picked up the coffee-pot, the frying-pan, and one of the haversacks, and walked in the direction of the house. As he turned into the company street and came in sight of the cabin he looked for an instant, and then broke out: "I'm blamed if they don't seem to be havin' a nigger political rally there, with the house as campaign headquarters. Where in time could they have all come from? Looks like a crow-roost, with some o' the crows drunk." Apparently, all the negro cooks, teamsters, officers' servants, and roustabouts from the adjoining camps{39} had been gathered there, with Groundhog, Pilgarlic, and similar specimens of the white teamsters among them and leading them. [Illustration: THE NEGROES MERRYMAKING. 39] Seated on a log were three negroes, one sawing on an old fiddle, one picking a banjo, and one playing the bones. Two negroes were in the center of a ring, dancing, while the others patted "Juba." All were more or less intoxicated. Groundhog and Pilgarlic were endeavoring to get up a fight between Abraham Lincoln and another stalwart, stupid negro, and were plying them with whisky from a canteen and egging them on with words.{40} The Deacon strode up to Groundhog and, catching him by the arm, demanded sternly: "What are you doing, you miserable scoundrel? Stop it at once." Groundhog, who had drunk considerable himself, and was pot-valiant, shook him off roughly, saying: "G'way from here, you dumbed citizen. This hain't none o' your bizniss. Go back to your haymow and leave soldiers alone." The Deacon began divesting himself of his burden to prepare for action, but before he could do so, Shorty rushed in, gave Groundhog a vigorous kick, and he and Si dispersed the rest of the crowd in a hurry with sharp cuffs for all they could reach. The meeting broke up without a motion to adjourn. The Deacon caught Abraham Lincoln by the collar and shook him vigorously. "You black rascal," he said, "what've you bin up to?" "Didn't 'spect you back so soon. Boss," gasped the negro. "Said you wouldn't be back till termorrer." "No matter when you expected us back," said the Deacon, shaking him still harder, while Si winked meaningly at Shorty. "What d'ye mean by sich capers as this? You've bin a-drinkin' likker, you brute." "Cel'bratun my freedom," gasped the negro. "Groundhog done tole me to."