reflection concerning a race so decried and degraded. I asked with Campbell—

"Was man ordained the slave of man to toil,
Yoked with the brutes, and fettered to the soil;
Weighed in a tyrant's balance with his gold?
No! Nature stamped us in a heavenly mould!
She bade no wretch his thankless labor urge,
Nor, trembling, take the pittance and the scourge."

From this time I became deeply interested in my African protege. He seemed keenly alive to his condition. He told me in a conversation that "the colored people were all heathensthey knew nothing. I was talking," he added, "with massa and missus dis mornin', and missus asked me, 'Tom what you tink of dem Yankees?'

"Ah,' says I, 'missus, I don' don't like em at all.

Dey won't have nothin' to say to a nigger.' Den missus said, ses she.

"Tom, don't you know dese Yankees are comin' down har to confisticate all you cullod people?' Now, she tink I don' don't know what 'confisticate' means; spec' she tinks I tought it was to kill. God bless you, massa, I knows it is to free de darkies, and den dis pore nigger have hoss and carriage, if I don' can work and pay for 'em. While I was talkin' wid massa and missus, I stood and shake all over. I tells

'em dat I is so 'feared dat dey would come dat I don't know what for to do. God bless you, don't you tink dey was fool enough to tink I was afeerd. Ha! ha! ha!"

The hours wore heavily on in that dreary prison-house. Tom brought our food in an old trough, which had doubtless been employed in feeding swine, and we were compelled to take in food in genuine primitive style. In a short time, we received intelligence that we were to be removed to another apartment in the same building, and I began to feel a degree of uneasiness lest my effort to escape should be discovered by the hole in the floor. Tom again befriended me. He ascertained that a printingpress was to be put up in the room the prisoners had occupied, and while assisting in the work succeeded in placing a portion of the stationary materials in such a manner as to effectually secrete the aperture.

As I have already intimated, our supply of food grew "smaller by degrees and horribly less." Our gastronomic propensities were however, occasionally regaled by some delicacies (?) smuggled to us by Tom and his brother Pete. We did not care then to inquire whether they obtained them honestly or not, but the proba

bility is that they were appropriated from their master's larder.

One of our chief annoyances in this prison was in the person of a diminutive, pompous, and arrogant Irishman named Mackey, who seemed to rejoice in the title of "sergeant," which he took great care to frequently ventilate in the presence of the prisoners. He was an orderly of the provost-marshal, and the fellow, clothed with a little brief authority, seemed to be impressed with the sole idea that tyranny was the only attribute of one so exalted. Once, when he came into my quarters, I asked him what object he could have in the rebel army, and what profit he expected to derive from the establishment of a confederacy?

Enough, be jabers," he replied. "You Yankees want to free our nagers, be sure, and we're all ferninst that here, and we won't submit at all, at all."

"How many negroes have you, Mr. Mackey," I asked.

"Why, sure, and be jabers, and I haven't a nager in the world."

"Well, sir, what interest then can you have in this war?"

“Och, and be sure, a poor tool of an Irishman can hardly git a wee jab of work now,

and if these divels were free, we'd have to go beggin' foriver."

So, selfishness, in the guise of slavery and pride, forms the substratum of the so-called Southern Confederacy.

On further conversation with the sergeant, I learned that he had really no interest in the cause of the South, that he was not in the army from choice, but as a means of obtaining a livelihood, and that he bitterly cursed rebellion in his heart as the prolific parent of untold evils.

Our new room fronted the hotel, and from some of the officers we obtained permission to stand upon the balcony of the prison during a part of each evening. On one occasion we were ordered back by the guards. I hesitated a moment; but in that moment a guard leveled his piece and drew the trigger. Fortunately for me the gun missed fire, but at the same moment another guard fired, and killed a deaf man who had thrust his head from an upper window. Realizing the danger to which I was exposed, I instantly withdrew.

On the same evening, I noticed an unusual excitement among the rebel officials. To ascertain its cause I again had recourse to Tom. He requested me to tear a hole in my coat, and

then order him, in the presence of the guards, to take it to some tailor for repairs. He insisted that I should speak angrily to him, for such a course would more effectually deceive the guards. I did as he had directed, and he demurred, declaring that he wished dem "Yankees would mend dar own close." The guards in a peremptory tone commanded him to get the coat, and have it repaired forthwith. This was what Tom desired; and with many protestations of hatred toward the whole Yankee race, he, with great apparent reluctance, carried the garment from the prison.

In a short time he returned, seemingly in the same mood, and with well-feigned indignation, handed over the coat. On examination I found a newspaper in one of the pockets which contained an account of the evacuation of Corinth, the surrender of Island No. 10, and the bombardment of Fort Pillow, New Orleans, and other important information of which we had previously known nothing! This little artifice and its successful management, while it furnished me with very cheering intelligence, also gave me an elevated opinion of Tom's native talents.

Other prisoners continued to arrive, many of whom had been wounded in the battle of