“Now although we were pretty badly off for provisions, and even ammunition, it wasn’t a circumstance to the condition of the ‘Johnnies,’ as we called the gentlemen over the way, and, worst of all, the poor chaps hadn’t the comfort of a ‘smoke’ even, which, as all soldiers will tell you, keeps the gnawing feeling of hunger away for a time at least. No, sir! they hadn’t five pounds of tobacco in their camp. But never mind! I’ll tell you what they did have. They had regularly every day a copy of their own Charleston paper, which, of course, was printed for Confederate eyes alone. I was sitting in my tent one night smoking and thinking and wondering how I could lay hands on one or two of those papers. You must know, my dear children, stratagem is always allowed and understood to be used on both sides in war. It is as much a part of the whole unhappy business as loading guns and firing them, and far better if it leads to peace and an end of cruel feeling. Now, if I could only get a copy or two of those papers, do you see, the key to the enemy’s next movements might be in our hands, and I suddenly struck a bright idea. I sent a man to replace Billy Forbes on the bridge, and presently that lad appeared in my doorway. He saluted, and I motioned him to come inside. Then, after warning him of the need of secrecy and caution, I told him my dilemma. Billy rubbed his head, whistled softly, looked up and down anxiously, and finally, after a moment’s star-gazing, ‘Lieutenant,’ says he, in his slow, Connecticut voice, ‘I’ve hit on a way--if you don’t mind.’ “‘Go ahead, Billy,’ I rejoined. “‘Well, sir, you see those poor devils have scarcely a chew or a smoke of ’baccy among them.’ “‘How do you know?’ “‘Johnny on the other side made signs, sir, and mate and I weren’t slow to understand.’ “‘Well. Go on.’ “‘Now, if I could sneak over a bit from those great packages in the Quartermaster’s department, and make him know what we were after, sure as guns, Lieutenant, you’d have the papers.’ “‘Billy,’ said I, ‘you are a credit to your regiment, to say nothing of your Yankee mother. Come here in an hour, and I’ll see you have the tobacco.’ “Some enterprising dealer in the North had received a contract for that lot of stuff, and we had really, for the time being, an overabundance, so that it was by no means a difficult matter for me to secure two half-pound packets, done up in blue paper, and in about as short a time as it takes to tell the story, Billy Forbes had it tucked away, and went whistling back to his post. “It was a clear, soft, starlit night. I sat up attending to various duties--listening to the fussy complaints and talk of one of my colleagues in command, who had it on the brain, and felt we were disgraced not knowing how to get in there. Somehow, I relied on my friend Billy to win the day by his fair ‘exchange,’ and he didn’t fail me. “Towards morning I went down to the bridge, having sent a relief for the lad, who came back simply grinning.