They accepted the Confederate money offered as pay for meals or provisions more as a respect to an overpowering foe than as a compensation for their wares.  A good joke in this campaign was had at the expense of Captain Nance, of the Third.  It must be remembered that the privates played many practical jokes upon their officers in camps, when at other times and on other occasions such would be no joke at all, but a bit of downright rascality and meanness—­but in the army such was called fun.  A nice chicken, but too old to fry, so it must be stewed.  As the wagons were not up, cooking utensils were scarce—­about one oven to twenty-five men.  Captain Nance ordered Jess to bake the biscuit at night and put away till morning, when the chicken would be cooked and a fine breakfast spread.  Now the Captain was overflowing in good humor and spirits, and being naturally generous-hearted, invited the Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel Rutherford, the latter his prospective brother-in-law, down to take breakfast with him.  The biscuits were all baked nicely and piled high up on an old tin plate and put in the Captain’s tent at his head for safe keeping during the night.  Early next morning the fowl was “jumping in the pan,” as the boys would say, while the Captain made merry with the others over their discomfiture at seeing him and his guests eating “chicken and flour bread,” while they would be “chewing crackers.”  All things must come to an end, of course; so the chicken was at last “cooked to a turn,” the Colonel and the future brother-in-law are seated expectantly upon the ground waiting the breakfast call.  The Captain was assisting Jess in putting on the finishing touches to the tempting meal, as well as doing the honors to his distinguished guests.  When all was ready he ordered Jess to bring out the biscuits.  After an unusual long wait, as it may have appeared to Captain Nance under the condition of his appetite and the presence of his superiors, he called out, “Why in the thunder don’t you bring out the biscuits, Jess?” Still blankets were overturned and turned again, knapsacks moved for the fourth or fifth time, yet Jess hunted faithfully in that little four by six tent for the plate of biscuits.  “Why in the h——­l don’t you come on with the biscuits, Jess?” with a pronounced accent on the word “Jess.”  Meanwhile Jess poked his black, shaggy head through the tent door, the white of his eyes depicting the anguish of his mind, his voice the despair he felt, answered:  “Well, Marse John, before God Almighty, ef somebody ain’t tooken stole dem bisket.”  Tableaux!!  Twenty-five years afterwards at a big revival meeting at Bethel Church, in Newberry County, a great many “hard cases,” as they were called, were greatly impressed with the sermons, and one especially seemed on the point of “getting religion,” as it is called.  But he seemed to be burdened with a great weight.  At the end of the service he took out Captain Nance and expressed a desire to make a confession.