Incidents of the War: Humorous, Pathetic, and Descriptive

Here I ventured to inquire of him as to whom he was addressing his conversation?

"Why, my frens," replied he. "Isn't that Ned Shoemaker?" pointing to a barrel, upon the top of which was my hat; "and are not those my companions," pointing to a pile of cheese-boxes, herring-kegs, etc., that were strewn around.

He was much astonished when I assured him his friends had departed an hour since, at least.

DIDN'T KNOW OF THE REBELLION.

Going out with a party of scouts, one day, in Virginia, we espied, away up a little ravine, a log-house, completely isolated. Anticipating a good, substantial meal, we rode up to the domicile, where an old woman, with a face with all the intelligence of a pig beaming from it, came to the door, looking the very picture of consternation. We dismounted, and asked for something to eat.

"What! wittles?" exclaimed the horrible-looking creature. "Whar did you come from? And wh