The Menly Resting, or preparing their food, or penning notes for the anxious ones at

home, until the hour of sultryist noon was passed.

One bit of culinary enterprise, interesting, victually, if not vitally during this time,

to several men of one group, deserves chronicling as picturing a bit of soldier life and demonstrating

the perfectness of military and moral discipline existing in the regiment.

That group gave undivided attention to an endeavor of fire and water to reduce the flesh

of a veteran foul in a pot to an impressionable condition.

That foul a little before was boldly bossing his little company in the barnyard.

Sargent de Forrest coveted it, his mouth moist and thought of the delicious fricacies it

was evidently created for.

But he was too conscientious and too soldierly to lay his hands upon it until unquestioned

authority was acquired.

He approached Agitant Doton and gravely requested permission to take the foul under his protection.

And introduce it to some of his comrades.

The Agitant sympathized with man and bird and thought that they should be friends and

amid the crack of rifles and banging of artillery, the sergeant pursued his game until victorious.

When the ball opened later, that poultry was still in the pot and it is still a conundrum

with us what became of Al de Forrest's chicken.

Private Henry Stevens, 14th Connecticut Infantry, 2nd Corps Army of the Potomac.

A little further we take temporary position in the hollow of a field.

Before us is a rising slope which hides the Yankee position from view.

To the right of our front, some quarter of a mile is a brick house near which one of our

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