and broken bones, the officers get the glory. The private's pay was eleven dollars per month, if he got it; the General's pay was three hundred dollars per month, and he always got his. I am not complaining, These things happened sixteen to twenty years ago. Men who never fired a gun, nor killed a Yankee during the whole war, are to-day the heroes of the war. Now, I tell you what I think about it; I think that those of us who fought as private soldiers, fought as much for glory as the General did, and those of us who stuck it out to the last, deserve more praise than the General who resigned because some other General was placed in command over him. A General could resign. That was honorable. A private could not resign, nor choose his branch of service, and if he deserted, it was death.
THE SCOUT AND DEATH OF A YANKEE LIEUTENANT.
General Hood had sent off all his cavalry, and a detail was made each day of so many men for a scout, to find out all we could about the movements of the Yankees. Colonel George Porter, of the Sixth Tennessee, was in command of the detail. We passed through Atlanta, and went down the railroad for several miles, and then made a flank movement toward where we expected to come in contact with the Yankees. When we came to a skirt of woods, we were deployed as skirmishers. Colonel Porter ordered us to re-prime our guns and to advance at twenty-five paces apart, being deployed as skirmishers, and to keep under cover as much as possible. He need not have told us this, because we had not learned war for nothing. We would run from one tree to another, and then make a careful reconnoiter before proceeding to another. We had begun to get a little careless, when bang! bang! bang! Tt seemed that we had got into a Yankee ambush. The firing seemed to be from all sides, and was rattling among the leaves and bushes, It appeared as if some supernatural, infernal battle was going on, and the air was full of smoke. We had not seen the Yankees. I ran to
