After awhile, she invited me to dinner, and after dinner I sat down by
her side, took her old hand in mine, and told her the whole affair of the
hog, from beginning to end; how sorry I was, and how I did not eat any
of that hog; and asked her as a special act of kindness and favor to me,
to take the hundred dollars; that I felt bad about it, and if she would
take it, it would ease my conscience. I laid the money on the table and
left. I have never in my life made a raid upon anybody else.
TARGET SHOOTING
By some hook, or crook, or blockade running, or smuggling, or Mason and
Slidell, or Raphael Semmes, or something of the sort, the Confederate
States government had come in possession of a small number of Whitworth
guns, the finest long range guns in the world, and a monopoly by the
English government. They were to be given to the best shots in the army.
One day Captain Joe P. Lee and Company H went out to shoot at a target
for the gun. We all wanted the gun, because if we got it we would be
sharpshooters, and be relieved from camp duty, etc.
All the generals and officers came out to see us shoot. The mark was put
up about five hundred yards on a hill, and each of us had three shots.
Every shot that was fired hit the board, but there was one man who came
a little closer to the spot than any other one, and the Whitworth was
awarded him; and as we just turned round to go back to camp, a buck
rabbit jumped up, and was streaking it as fast as he could make tracks,
all the boys whooping and yelling as hard as they could, when Jimmy
Webster raised his gun and pulled down on him, and cut the rabbit's head
entirely off with a minnie ball right back of his ears.
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