hogs had been left to roam at will through the fields by the refugee farmers, and orders were given not to kill or molest them, to eat as much corn as we wished, but to spare the hogs.  When the regiments were sent on pickets, a detail was left in camp as guard, also to watch around the fields to prevent trespass.  While our regiment was on its three days’ picket, I was left as one of the detail to guard the camp.  Some one reported a fine hog in the yard of a house some distance away.  It was agreed to kill it, divide it up, and have a rare treat for the weary pickets when they returned.  How to kill it without attracting the attention of the other guards was a question of importance, because the report of a rifle and the proverbial squeal of a hog would be sure to bring down upon us the guard.  One of the men had a pistol, still we were afraid to trust this.  A cellar door stood temptingly open.  We tried to drive the hog into it, but with a hog’s perverseness it refused to be driven, and after rushing around the yard several times with no results, it was decided to shoot it.  The man claimed to be a good shot, and declared that no hog would squeal after being shot by him, but, as Burns says, “The best laid plans of mice and men aft’ gang a glee.”  So with us.  After shooting, the porker cut desperate antics, and set up a frightful noise, but the unexpected always happens, and the hog took refuge in the cellar, or rather the basement of the dwelling, to our great relief.  We were proceeding finely, skinning away, the only method the soldiers had of cleaning a hog, when to our astonishment and dismay, in walked the much dreaded guard.  Now there something peculiar about the soldier’s idea of duty, the effects of military training, and the stern obedience to orders.  The first lesson he learns is obedience, and the longer in service the more convinced he is of its necessity.  While he may break ranks, pass guards, rob roosts, or pilfer fruits and vegetables himself, yet put a gun in his hand, place him on duty, order him to guard or protect men or property, and his integrity in that respect is as unyielding, inflexible, and stern as if his life depended upon his faithful performance.  The Roman soldiers’ obedience to orders made them immortal, and their nation the greatest on earth.  But to resume the thread of my story.  When the guard came in we thought ourselves lost.  To be punished for hog stealing, and it published at home, was more than our patriotism could stand.  The guard questioned us about the killing, said it was against orders to fire a gun within range of camp, and furthermore against orders to molest private property.  We tried to convince the guard that it was contraband, that the owners had left it, and to crown the argument, insisted that if we did not take the hog the Yankees would.  This was the argument always last resorted to to ease conscience and evade the law.  In this case, strange to say, it had its effect.  After some parleying, it was agreed to share the booty equally