He stated that if he only had a gun he too would go along as a private soldier.

You could hear his voice echo and re-echo over the hills.

He had worked up his patriotism to a pitch of genuine bravery and daring that I had never seen exhibited, when fliff, fluff, fluff, _fluff_, FLUFF, FLUFF--a whir, a BOOM! and a shell screams through the air.

The reverend LL.

D.stops to listen, like an old sow when she hears the wind, and says, "Remember, boys, that he who is killed will sup tonight in Paradise." Some soldier hallooed at the top of his voice, "Well, parson, you come along and take supper with us." Boom! whir! a bomb burst, and the parson at that moment put spurs to his horse and was seen to limber to the rear, and almost every soldier yelled out, "The parson isn't hungry, and never eats supper." I remember this incident, and so does every member of the First Tennessee Regiment.
PRESENTMENT, OR THE WING OF THE ANGEL OF DEATH Presentment is always a mystery.