Strolling through the grounds which Uncle Sam has made to look like a paradise in the wilderness, I ran upon a unique character in Uncle Reuben Paterson, one of your old-time darkies. Uncle Rube is a character in his way. A giant in stature, except a lameness which has made him always prefer riding to walking. Hence this yarn. He is one of the few darkies you meet who is really humorous. Many people think all darkies are more or less funny, and while they are, it is rarely you find one who appreciates the humorous, from an intellect capable of seeing it. It took me some time to draw Uncle Rube out—he is a darky of more than usual intelligence—but when he found I was fond of horses he gave this experience of his in the Civil War: “You see, boss, I wuz body servant for Colonel Josiah Patterson, endu’in’ de wah, an’ I got inter some purty close places. Bein’ crippled, I seldom could walk much, so I was mighty nigh raised on a hoss. I regards ’em ez bein’ made fur man, an’ I allers thought I wuz entitled to my sheer. Talk about these heah merchines dats run widout hosses, I’d like ter know whut dey’d done in de wah! De wah suited me fine. I got a new hoss ebry time I wanted ’im. Ebry fight we’d get inter I’d come out on a new hoss. I started in on a little gray jackass. At Shiloh I swapped ’im off fer a good government mule. Dat is ter say, I allers called it swappin’ yer know. It’s true Uncle Sam didn’ hev nobody ter repersent ’im at de swappin, but when de fight gits hot an’ his nat’ul agents gits kinder rattled and retires kinder briefly to de reah fur consultation, a-leabin’ fine mules stampedin’ ’roun’ an’ tryin’ ter tramp on my toes, dey needn’ wonder ef I swaps den an’ dar. ’Taint my nature to let no mule tramp ’roun’ over me. Wall, sur, in de scrimmage in Kentucky I swapped de mule fur a fine, gray mare. She wuz mighty good, but wuz kinder mixed gaited. I wuz ’fraid she mout be a knee-banger when I called on her fur speed in a close place, an’ yer know we hed ter come out’n Kentucky purty fas’, boss, purty fas’. We hed cross-firin’ ernuff frum de Yankees, widout bein’ mounted on a mare dat kep’ it up too! Wall, sur, at Mission’ry Ridge I swapped her off fer a black stallion thet come tearin’ out’n de ranks in de full regalier uv a colonel’s saddle, bridle an’ holster. An’ he wuz a good one, an’ I didn’ think he’d need any hobbles. I rid ’im a little while an’ den give ’im ter my colonel. It come so easy ter swap fer ’em I’d ruther do it den ter eat. Whilst de fight wuz goin’ on I’d be swappin’ hosses, an’ I’m black ef in de battle uv Stone Ribber I didn’ mouty nigh mount ebry man in de company. Whilst dey wuz fightin’ I wuz swappin’ hosses, an’ I done hit all frum one little ole bay mule. Ef de wah hed gone on much longer, I b’lieve I’d swapped Uncle Sam afoot.