“The 20,000 fresh troops in the Union army made the contest an unequal one, and though stubbornly contested for a time, at about two o’clock General Beauregard ordered the withdrawal of his army. To secure the withdrawal he placed Colonel Looney of the Thirty-eighth Tennessee, with his regiment, augmented by detachments from other regiments, at Shiloh Church, and directed him to charge the Union center. In this charge Colonel Looney passed Sherman’s headquarters and pressed the Union line back to the Purdy road; at the same time General Beauregard sent batteries across the Shiloh branch and placed them in battery on the high ground beyond. With these arrangements Beauregard at _four o’clock safely crossed Shiloh branch with his army_ and placed his rear guard under Breckinridge in line upon the ground occupied by his army on Saturday night. The Confederate army _retired leisurely_ to Corinth, while the Union army returned to the camps that it had occupied before the battle.” The final touch—“the Union army returned to the camps it had occupied before the battle”—shows how negligible a quality, in the mind of these able historians, was the contribution of Buell’s fresh troops who seem to have been spectators but nothing more. HOW OLE WASH GOT RID OF HIS MOTHERS-IN-LAW By John Trotwood Moore I was telling ole Wash the other night that I thought the President was a great man and that if he didn’t make any break from now on, as for instance about knocking out states’ rights and undue blowing about the devilish little Japs who are itching to scrap with us, he would rank among the great presidents. The old man was thoughtful for awhile, looking into the fire. “Wal, boss, he sho’ is got all the year-marks—a senserble, dermestic wife an’ no signs of a muther-in-law. Now, sah, befo’ eny man kin be great he must fus’ ax his wife an’ arter he gits her consent he mus’ ax his muther-in-law. Now, sah, no man kin be great, don’t keer how much ’bility he’s got, if his wife is in society an’ his muther-in-law is in de house. You can look all down de line, sah, an’ when you finds dat combinashun you’ll find a man whose growin’ gourd of greatness is liable to wilt eny day, like Job’s, at de fus’ good jolt it gits. Wid both of ’em in society an’ both in de’ house, why, Lord, boss, his gourd will nurver even sprout! “Did I urver tell you ’bout my ’sperience in dat line an’ how nigh I cum to missin’ greatness, all on account of a few muther-in-laws? It wuz a close shave an’ if I hadn’t seed de way de ship wuz headed an’ steered out from dat combernashun, instead of bein’ de gent’man an’ floserpher whose ’pinions you so highly values,” he chuckled modestly, “you’d a had a ole nigger fit only fur de woodpile an’ de blackin’ bresh.