344 SKETCHES IN PROSE. 



even with them. All this while the shells w^ere screamins: 

 and bursting over the protecting timber. About this time the 

 " rebs " began to advance. Bullets were whistling around pretty 

 lively. We hugged the ground closer and the old man got 

 behind a tree. He surprised us all by not taking a double- 

 quick to the rear, but he was just as cool as any veteran 

 among us. We soon had orders to move a hundred yards 

 to the right, and were shortly engaged in one of the hot- 

 test fights I was ever in. Foot by foot we were driven back. 

 We made our last stand at the Seminary, where we did good 

 work for a while and then retreated through the town to 

 Cemetery Ridge. I never saw John Burns after we moved 

 to the right. From some cause he did not follow, and we 

 left him with his gun behind the tree. I learned afterward 

 he was wounded in three places. General Callis was wounded 

 and left for dead on the field. 



" On our retreat through Gettysburg I saw but one citizen. 

 This was an old man who brought a washtub out to his pump 

 on the sidewalk, and then pumped water for the boys as they 

 passed along. God bless his old soul ; I wish I knew who he 

 was that, if alive, I might thank him for his bravery and 

 kindness." 



Dr. Horner, of the town, dressed the old man's wounds. 

 He informed me he was struck in the arm, ankle and breast, 

 the latter a trifling flesh wound. The assertions of some of 

 his townspeople that he ''merely got scratched among the 

 briars," therefore, will hardly stand. 



Another incident in the life of the old hero I came across 

 recently. On the evening of November 9th, 1863, the day on 

 which Lincoln delivered his memorable words at the dedica- 

 tion of the Gettysburg monument, the President, accompanied 

 by his brother-in-law. General Todd, and a few other noted 

 men, attended a lecture. As the party entered the church in 

 which it was given, and were passing to the seats assigned 



