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Everybody who was in that campaign remembers how terribly hot and dry everything was.

The bully of the 200th took it into his thick head one day to try to "run over" Si. The latter had just filled his canteen, and the bully found that the momentum of three pints of water swung at arm's length by an angry boy was about equal to a mule's kick.

He Tries the Butt of his Gun on It 041

"Why, we've drawn a full mile o' sides from the Commissary, and haint struck a ham yit. I'm wonderin' jest how long that hog is!"

Si drew the line at this point. He had an ironplated stomach, but putrid and maggoty meat was too much for it. Whenever he got any of this he would trade it off to the darkies for chickens. There is nothing like pork for a Southern negro. He wants something that will "stick to his ribs."

"What in the name of General Jackson are you doing, you measly idiot! Who ordered you to load and fire your piece?"

Si waited anxiously to hear his name called as the pile letters rapidly grew smaller, and he began to think he was going to get left.

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