rush into the ranks to find his master, getting under the feet of the men, who in consequence lost step and got out of line, of course becoming very angry.  The shells frequently exploding in the vicinity became a constant terror to this unfortunate, who knew not how to avoid them.  He soon learned to distinguish the shriek of a coming shell, and would race off in one direction, looking fearfully back over his shoulder, until a similar sound in another quarter would so puzzle and terrify him that he would stand still awhile until the noise of an explosion utterly demoralized him, when he would frantically dig up the ground, as if trying to bury himself.

I am afraid I must acknowledge that my dog was not strictly honest.  In fact, his depredations upon their larders won for him the undying hatred of the colored cooks of various messes, who were always seeking revenge.  Their dislike culminated one day in a dreadful scalding, inflicted upon the poor dog by the cook of an officers’ mess, who poured a whole kettle of boiling water upon his back, causing him weeks of suffering and the loss of part of his beautiful glossy coat.  This seemed to have implanted in his mind a profound distrust of negroes, which he never ceased to entertain until the day of his death.  After this Beauregard was sent up to Richmond that I might cure his wound; this I was more easily enabled to do, as my friends among the surgeons kindly advised and assisted me.  He was soon quite well, the growing hair nearly concealing his scars.  When I left Richmond with my little boy, Beau accompanied us, and found a permanent home upon the plantation of a relative in Alabama.  It was here that he first showed his extreme dislike for negroes, which attracted attention and became unmistakable.  At first it gave much trouble, but gradually he grew tolerant of the servants upon the “home-place,” although he never took kindly even to these.  He never forgot that he had been scalded.  At any time steam arising from a boiling tea-kettle or pot would send him yelping away.  I remember hearing the youngsters say that once when Beauregard had followed them miles into the woods, seeming to enjoy the tramp and the hunt, they having decided to have a lunch of broiled birds, heated some water in a camp-kettle to scald them preparatory to picking off the feathers.  As soon as the birds were dipped into the water and taken out steaming, the dog set out for home, where they found him, upon their return, hiding under a corn-crib.

Although, as I said before, Beau became used to the servants whom he saw every day upon the home-place, no strange negro dared to come inside the big gate unless accompanied by one of the family.  Whenever the deep, hoarse bark of Beauregard announced the appearance of strangers, it was known that the dog must be chained.  Not once, but many times, I have seen a load of “fodder” or “garden-truck” driven into the yard and immediately surrounded by this one big dog,