"Oh," said H., springing up, "look! It is the boats coming around the
bend."

Truly it was a fine spectacle to see that fleet of transports sweep
around the curve and anchor in the teeth of the battery so lately
vomiting fire. Presently Mr. J. passed and called:

"Aren't you coming, Mr. L.? There's provisions on those boats: coffee
and flour. 'First come, first served,' you know."

"Yes, I'll be there pretty soon," replied H.

But now the newcomers began to swarm into our yard, asking H. if he had
coin to sell for greenbacks. He had some, and a little bartering went on
with the new greenbacks. H. went out to get provisions. When he returned
a Confederate officer came with him. H. went to the box of Confederate
money and took out four hundred dollars, and the officer took off his
watch, a plain gold one, and laid it on the table, saying, "We have not
been paid, and I must get home to my family." H. added a five-dollar
greenback to the pile, and wished him a happy meeting. The townsfolk
continued to dash through the streets with their arms full, canned goods
predominating. Toward five, Mr. J. passed again. "Keep on the lookout,"
he said; "the army of occupation is coming along," and in a few minutes
the head of the column appeared. What a contrast to the suffering
creatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men, so
splendidly set up and accoutred! Sleek horses, polished arms, bright
plumes,--this was the pride and panoply of war! Civilization,
discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of those
marching columns; and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to the
worn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment