A man of middle age, in civilian clothes, came riding slowly on a fat horse.

He was a well-known sutler named Williams and the wild lads did not confine themselves to hidden cries, but rushed from the shelter of trees and bushes, and held up worn articles of apparel, shouting in his ears: "Hey, Mr.Williams! The soles of these shoes are made of paper, not leather.

I bought leather, not paper." "What's the price of blue silk neckties?
I've got a Yankee sweetheart in New York, and I want to look well when our conquering army marches into that city!" "A pair of blankets for me, Mr.Williams, to be paid for when we loot the Yankee treasury!" But Williams was not disconcerted.

He was used to such badinage.
He spread out his large hands soothingly.
"Boys," he said, "those shoes wore out so fast because you chased the Yankees so hard.

They were made for walking, not for foot races.
Why do you want to buy blankets on time when you can get them more cheaply by capturing them from the enemy ?" His answers pleased them, and some one called for three cheers for Williams, which were given with a will, and he rode on, unmolested.
But in a few minutes another and greater roar arose.