A good, long look assures her of a dry road ahead. She bounds past, the airs and graces fly back as swiftly as they flew away; and in five minutes she is as vain a little Gipsy as ever she was before. But it is one o'clock--horses and men are hungry, and just beyond us is a house. We see chickens, cows, sheep and pigs, but no smoke rises from the chimney. We halt; the sergeant enters the open door; comes back and reports it just what we want--a deserted house. In a few minutes the horses are unsaddled and tied to the fence, munching the corn we find in two large cribs. The poor cows welcome us, for they have not been fed since their owner ran away, and are almost starved. My order to the men is to take nothing but food, and to injure nothing needlessly. The sheep are caught, pronounced too thin, and let loose. But the chickens and pigs--after them there is a chase. There are shouts of excitement, intermingled with roars of laughter, as some brave pig charges between his pursuer's feet, and trips him up, and with the squeals and cacklings of the victims as they are caught. Within the house, we find a few things left, which the poor creatures probably overlooked as they hurried away. There is a jar of molasses on the shelf; a bag of dried peaches in the closet; a haunch of smoked venison, and a barrel of black walnuts in the garret. These last are a source of great entertainment for the men, who not only enjoy the most unusual luxury, but exult in the thought of a run-away rebel gathering nuts for them, and crack many jokes as they crack the shells. But the poor children, who picked them for their winter treat, now wandering homeless, and countryless, who can guess where! We have been so bred to respect private rights, that as I sit watching the men gather up the pigs and poultry, and fill their sacks with corn, I have a slight fear that the former owner may appear and charge us with stealing the property which his treason has forfeited to the Government. But no owner appears. The horses have done their corn and the men their biscuit; the molasses has been emptied into canteens, and a large bundle of corn leaves tied to every saddle--we must start.