It was the nearest the Army of the Potomac had come to the Southern capital since McClellan had seen the spires of its churches, and that was more than two years away.
Warner and Pennington were lying on the ground, eating big red apples with much content and looking up lazily at Mason.
"You're curving those glasses about a lot.

What do you see, Dick ?" asked Pennington at length.
"I see Petersburg, an old, old town, half buried in foliage, and with many orchards and gardens about it.

A pity that two great armies should focus on such a pleasant place." "No time for sentiment, Dick.

What else do you see ?" "Jets of smoke and flame from the trenches, an irregular sort of firing, sometimes a half-dozen shots at one place, and then a long and peaceful break until you come to another place, where they're exchanging bullets." "What more do you see, Brother Richard ?" "I see a Johnny come out of his trench hands up and advance toward one of our Yanks opposite, who also has come out of his trench hands up." "What are they trading ?" asked Warner.
"The Reb offers a square of plug tobacco, and the Yank a bundle of newspapers.

Now they've made the exchange, now they've shaken hands and each is going back to his own trench." "It's a merry world, my masters, as has been said before," resumed Warner, "but I should add that it's also a mad wag of a world.