“John Satterly, wounded at Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864,” and I see long John with his peculiar hook-shaped nose which caused one of the boys who was waggishly inclined to suggest that he could make big money picking cherries as he could hang to a limb with his nose and gather the fruit in with both hands. Ever after that John was called “Cherry Picker.” I pause at the name of “Edwin Smith, mortally wounded at Petersburg, June 16, 1864,” and I recall what he said when being carried to the rear. “Hold on, boys, don’t carry me off without my grub.” Our regiment was lying behind a stone wall supporting a battery that was firing over our heads. Rations had been brought up to us that morning and “Ed” was eating when wounded, and the stretcher bearers were carrying him off without his haversack. He never made a murmur about his wound but did not want to lose his rations. He was a son of a Watertown tailor and was one of the youngest and smallest boys of our company that carried a musket. There were a number under 18 years of age in the company and they were called the “ponies,” but they could outmarch most of the large heavy men. The “ponies” made up in grit and enthusiasm what they lacked in size. “Patrick Devereaux, veteran” and I hear the rollicking laugh of as gallant an Irish soldier as ever carried a gun, whose ready wit and cheery disposition made him to Co. H what Dickens’ “Mark Tapley” was to “Martin Chuzzlewit.” It was Patsy who made Major “Quicker nor that” mark time for him, and Pat who, when our regiment, with fixed bayonets was lying behind the stone wall at Spottsylvania waiting for Ewell’s charge, broke the awful stillness of those few minutes, that seemed like hours, by remarking: “Boys, wouldn’t a little ‘commissary’ taste good about now?” He was the “Mulvany” of our company and a prime favorite with everybody. “Halt who goes there!” was never spoken by a better soldier than Patrick Devereaux of the 2nd Heavy. The following letter from my old comrade is characteristic of the man: PAT’S LETTER. Troy, N. Y., April 6, 1904. “Me Little Boy in Blue:” I see by the papers which somebody has been sendin’ me that our little ‘Sheepskin beater’ of company H has trun down his drum sticks an tuk up a pen an’ is riting’ war stories. I’ve hearn tell that the ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ which was probably true of the ‘toad-stabbers’ carried by the drummer boys durin’ the war. But say, youse lads were great wid the drum sticks, and would make a divil of a racket in the mornin’ whin a fellah wanted to slape.