“I would judge from your appearance, young gentlemen, you have not been long in the service, and while we have been blistering our feet on your devilish turnpikes, you have been enjoying the pleasures and comforts of home. Your term of service has now expired; return there and remain, for I tell you soldiering is both a disagreeable and a precarious occupation. But before you go—and you have but a short distance ere you meet your friends, and we, God knows, how far without meeting one—I think it but fair we should make an exchange in the way of boots. What say you?” A hearty burst of laughter was the response at, to them, so novel an idea, and in an instant every pair of shoes was “shed” in army parlance, and tendered to our barefooted soldiers. It was quite amusing to see the poor fellows move off, picking their way daintily over the rough and uneven turnpike; and from the gait we left them “advancing on Carlisle,” I much question whether they reached their destination inside of several days. Another incident similar in its character occurred an hour or two after in the Second Maryland. A gallant young non-commissioned officer of Captain William H. Murray’s company, came to me and presented for my inspection what _had_ been a pair of shoes, but were now minus the soles. His feet were in a shocking condition, and he expressed a fear that he would be unable to proceed much farther, unless I could supply him, or grant him permission to “forage” for a pair. Being curious to see how he would proceed about it, “I spreck nottings mit mine mouf, but I spreck like ter tivel mit mine looks,” as the Dutchman would say; and going upon the old adage that “silence gives consent,” the Sergeant quietly resumed his place in the ranks. But a little while elapsed, however, before I observed him gradually fall to the rear of the column; and as he neared me, he pointed significantly to a fat old farmer who was lazily leaning on a gate-post, intently watching the passage of the troops. I aver I did not wink at the Sergeant, but he afterwards persistently maintained that I did. Be that as it may he stepped up to the old fellow, and bantered him for a trade. Now the Dutchman could scarcely speak a word of English, and the Sergeant not a word of Dutch and after vainly endeavoring to make him understand his Saxon, had no alternative but to trade _sans ceremoni_. So, throwing off his “uppers,” he in the most artistic manner stooped down raised one foot, and in an instant the Teuton stood “one boot off and one boot on.” The fellow followed, the Pennsylvanian never moving a muscle or budging an inch, but watching the strange proceeding in utter amazement. After admiring the “fit” for a moment, the audacious rebel politely bid the old gentleman “good day,” and rejoined his command, congratulating himself no doubt upon the excellent exchange he had made. As we passed out of sight I turned in my saddle and cast a look behind. There he still