Pleasant country.

I never heard a man pray and "go on" so before in my life.

It actually made me feel sorry for the poor fellow.

Every time that our line would stop for a few minutes, he would get down on his knees and clasp his hands and commence praying.

He kept saying, "O, my poor wife and children! God have mercy on my poor wife and children! God pity me and have mercy on my soul!" Says I, "Galbreath, what are you making a fool of yourself that way for?
If you are going to be killed, why you are as ready now as you ever will be, and you are making everybody feel bad; quit that nonsense." He quit, but kept mumbling to himself, "God have mercy! God have mercy!" Cleburne had reached the Yankee breastworks; the firing had been and was then terrific.