"You can't hev it 'bout yere, no how. That ain't what ye come fur, nuther." "If you know what I came for better than I do, suppose you tell me what it is," added Tom, who was a little mystified by the manner of the man. "You air one of them soger fellers, and you want me to 'list; but I tell yer, ye can't do nothin' of the sort. I'll be dog derned if I'll go." "I don't want you to go," protested Tom. "I'm half starved and all I want is something to eat." "Yer don't reelly mean so." "Yes, I do." "Where d'yer come from?" "From down below here. Have you seen any soldiers pass through this place?" "I reckon I hev; but they hain't seen me; and I reckon they won't see me very soon;" and the man chuckled at his own cleverness in keeping clear of recruiting officers. "I don't want you, and if you will give me something to eat, you will get rid of me very quick." "Betsey, you kin feed the feller, if yer like, and I'll go over and see whar the hogs is." The man dropped his shovel, and began to move off towards the woods, probably to see whether Tom would attempt to detain him. At the same time "Betsey" led the way into the house, and the visitor paid no further attention to the master. "We hain't got much to eat in the house," said the woman, as they entered the room. "There's some biled pork and pertaters in the pot, and we've got some bread, sech as 'tis." "It will do me very well. I'm hungry, and can eat any thing," replied Tom. The woman placed a tin plate on the table, and dished up the contents of the kettle on the fire. She added some cold hoe cake to the dinner, and Tom thought it was a feast fit for a king. He took a seat at the table, and made himself entirely at home. The food was coarse, but it was good, and the hungry soldier boy did ample justice to the viands. The boy and girl who had followed him into the house, stood, one on each side of him, watching him in speechless astonishment. "Where did yer come from?" asked the woman, when Tom had about half finished his dinner. "From down below," replied Tom, rather indefinitely. "Don't b'long in these yere parts, I reckon?" "No, marm." "Where are ye gwine?" "Going to join my regiment." "Where is yer rigiment?" "That's more than I know, marm." "How long yer been travelling?" persisted the woman, who was perhaps afraid that the guest would eat up the whole of the family's dinner, if she did not make some kind of a feint to attract his attention. "Only a few days, marm." "Kin yer till me what all thet noise was about day 'fore yesterday?" "Yes, marm; it was a big battle." "Gracious me! Yer don't say so! Whar was it?" "Down below Centreville." "Which beat?" "The Confederates drove the Yankees off the field," answered Tom, suspending business long enough to glance at the woman, and see how the intelligence was received. "Yer don't! Then they won't want my old man."