to go up-stairs in a house, I went to the Capitol at Nashville, last winter, and McAndrews wanted me to go up in the cupola with him. He went, and paid a quarter for the privilege. I staid, and—well, if I could estimate its value by dollars—I would say two hundred and fifty million dollars is what I made by staying down.
AM ARRESTED.
The next day, while the ferryboat was crossing the river, I asked the ferryman to let me ride over. I was halted by a soldier who "knowed" his business.
"Your pass, sir!"
"Well, I have no pass!"
"Well, sir, I will have to arrest you, and take you before the Provost Marshal."
"Very well, sir; I will go with you to the Provost or anywhere else."
I appear before the Provost Marshal.
"What command do you belong to, sir?"
"Well, sir, I belong to Company H, First Tennessee Regiment. I am a wounded man sent to the hospital."
"Well, sir, that's too thin; why did you not get a pass?"
"I did not think one was required."
"Give me your name, sir."
I gave my name.
"Sergeant, take this name to the hospital and ask if such name is registered on their books?"
I told him that I knew it was not. The Sergeant returns and reports no such name, when he remarks:
"You have to go to the guard-house."
Says I, "Colonel," (I knew his rank was that of Captain), "if you send me to the guard-house, you will do me a great wrong. Here is where I was wounded." I pulled off my shoe, and begun to unbandage.
"Well, sir, I don't want to look at your foot, and I have no patience with you. Take him to the guard-house."
