"'And what do you think of present prospects?' "I quickly responded, 'Our future looks dark--our cause appears almost hopeless, but the sacrifices of our gallant dead remain unavenged. Therefore, we must fight while there is a man left, and die in the last ditch.' "'If there be no longer any hope of success, sir, I should say that it would be better to lay down our arms at once, and go back under the old flag.' "'Madam, we must fight, we _must fight_!' "'But it is wickedness and worse than madness to continue this awful massacre of human beings, without some prospect of ultimate success.' "'Very true; but we have lost all in this struggle, and must sell our lives as dearly as possible.' "By this time the good lady seemed to have waxed enthusiastic, and warm as the fire over which the servant was preparing my supper, and she answered: "'My husband is a captain in the Twenty-fifth Georgia Infantry. He is the father of these children, and is very dear to both them and me. Long have I prayed that he might be spared to return to his family, but fear that we shall never be permitted to see him again. When he entered the army, I admired his patriotism, and was glad to see him go in defence of what I supposed to be the true interests of the southern people; but _we have been deceived from the beginning by our military and political leaders_. It is time to open our eyes, and see what obstinacy has brought us. We are conquered. Let us return to the rule of the Federal government, ere we are ruined.' "Madam, your sympathies appear to be largely with the Yankees.' "'It is not strange, sir; I was born and educated in New England;--and your speech would indicate that you too are not a native of the South.' "'You are right; I am a New Yorker by birth, but have been for a considerable time in South Carolina.' "After partaking of the frugal meal set before me, which consisted of corn-bread and sweet potatoes, I thanked the lady for her kindness, and told her that I regretted very deeply that I was not in a situation to remunerate her for so much trouble. Noticing my blue pants as I arose from the table, she remarked: "'It is impossible for me to know our men from the Yankees by the uniform; but a few days since, two soldiers asked me to get them some supper, claiming to be scouts to General Wheeler; they told many very plausible stories, and the next day, to my astonishment, I was charged with harboring Yankee spies.' "'I do not wonder that you find it difficult to distinguish the Yankee from the Confederate soldier, for in these trying times a poor rebel is compelled to wear anything he can get. The dead are always stripped, and at this season of the year, we find the Federal uniform far more comfortable than our own.' "'It must be an awful extremity that could tempt men to strip the dying and the dead!'