"You'd better hurry or Stonewall Jackson will get you before morning!" "We're not Yankees, ma'am," said Harry, politely.

"We're Southerners, Stonewall Jackson's own men, scouts from his army, here looking for news of the enemy." "A fine tale, young man.

You're trying to fool me with your gray uniform.

Stonewall Jackson's men are fifteen miles north of here, chasing the Yankees by thousands into the Potomac.

They say he does it just as well by night as by day, and that he never sleeps or rests." "What my comrade tells you is true.