reply. About this time it occurred to me that I had no business there, that those rebels were no respectors of persons, and that I might get hurt, as for a long time I knew that they had no more sense than to shoot to kill. I suggested this to the sergeant, and for once during those days the Yankee and rebel thought alike, and we not only thought quick, but we moved quickly, and soon were out of direct range. But we could not get out of the sound of those two little spit-fires on the other hill; it was slap-bang, slap-bang, until the sound was almost continuous.
They got in about as many shots with two guns as their adversary did with six; the latter were evidently green hands. We rode back some distance, the road not being in the direct line of fire, and halted with the Sixth New York Regiment. In a short time I cannot say how long, for I do not believe any man can estimate whether a battle lasts ten minutes or two hours the six-gun battery came to the rear. The little devils on the other hill had made it too hot for them.
I give this reminiscence of one little episode brought out by the unveiling of Pelham's portrait at the George E. Pickett Camp, and if you think it worth while you can publish it.
[From the Richmond, Va., Times, Sunday, Feb'y 5, 1899.]
THEY HONOR A FORMER FOE.
Funeral of a Confederate Veteran Conducted by G. A. R. Post.
A TOUCHING EULOGY SPOKEN.
Living Ex-Confederates Walk Arm in Arm With the Veterans of the Blue Under the Old Flag.
[This article, as is seen, is taken from one of our home Journals.
Every true Southerner hails with glistening eye, and quickened pulsation, all that comes to him truthfully of re-united tie in National bonds.
No one can better estimate valour and magnanimity than the "brother " of the genial and productive section, who has from the
