THAT Sunday morning I determined to visit the battle-ground again, and try to find that part of the field on which I had had the honor to be shot; then walk to Hagerstown, a distance of twelve miles. Having discovered, the previous day, that I was something of a walker, I now thought nothing of going that distance on foot. My excellent friends urged me to stay till Monday morning, but I declined.

I have now to record a little incident such as we sometimes read of but seldom gain cognizance of through our own auricular and optic organs. It may well be termed a “Romance in real life.”

Once, while in the army, I had picked up a small white pebble on the battle-ground of Bull Run, intending to keep it as a relic of that famed field. I had put it in a port-monnaie, and carried it with me through all my battles. While lying in the barn alluded to, I had lost my port-monnaie, which only contained, besides the pebble, a small bit of white paper on which I had made some notes of marches and their dates; and since then I had scarcely given it a thought. In fact, it had gone quite out of my mind.

Well, on Sunday morning, March twenty-sixth, 1865, before I left Mr. Pry’s house, Mrs. Pry showed me a small fancy basket of curiosities, such as little shells, bullets, and the like, and as she handed it to me to examine, she said:

“You will find among those shells a little white pebble, to which there is probably some story attached.”

“Ah?” I replied, moving the shells about. “How so?”

“Why, I think,” said she, “that it must have been the property of some soldier who, no doubt, carried it as a relic. Our boys were fishing one day, not long ago, and one of them drew up on his hook a port-monnaie—and what a fish he thought he had!—when——”

“A port-monnaie!” I exclaimed, as the recollection of my pebble suddenly flashed upon my mind for the first time since my leaving the army.

“Yes,” she went on; “and in it was the pebble——”

“And this is it!” I interrupted, as I found it at that moment among the shells and instantly recognized it by its peculiar shape and a little dark streak running through it.

“Yes, that is it.”

“And do you guess whose it is?”

“Is it yours?”

“Yes, ma’am. I recollect it distinctly now. I picked it up on the battle-field of Bull Run, when visiting the ground one day, before I had ever been in a fight, and carried it with me through all my campaigns, till wounded; and I lost it from my blouse pocket while lying in the barn. Was there not a piece of paper in the port-monnaie?”

“Yes, so the boys said.”

“With some marches and their dates noted down——”

“Exactly.”

“Well, is it not rather romantic!”

“It is, indeed. The pebble is yours now. Take it.”

“Thank you. I am indeed glad to see it again; but if you prefer to keep it, as you have established an undoubted right to it as property, by rescuing it from the depths of the waters, I will cheerfully leave it with you.”

“No, no,” said the good lady. “It is a pleasure to me to be able to restore it to you, after the lapse of more than two years. I am so glad I happened to mention it. If I had read of such an incident I could scarcely have believed it.”

“Nor any one. I thank you a thousand times! To think that, after thirty months, I should recover a little thing like that!—and that after it had been associating with the fish at the bottom of Antietam Creek! To think that it should so happen that I should stop at this house all night and that you should happen to mention it to me just before departing! It is indeed romantic!”

“It is, truly. Be assured that I am as happy to restore it to you as you are to recover it.”

I took the pebble, and have it yet in my possession. Any one calling on John Smith at his residence, (wherever that is,) will have an opportunity of seeing it, and of thus satisfying himself that this story is true.

Accompanied by Mr. Pry’s two sons, I departed for the battle-ground, in the midst of the most earnest solicitations to remain till Monday morning, and made another tour of the battle-field. At last, we succeeded in finding the identical spot of ground on which I had stood when shot, which I recognized by unmistakable landmarks. Especially did I remember a little ledge of rocks in the midst of a small grove of trees, over which we had climbed in advancing, and where two men had fallen back, shot dead—one at my right hand and the other at my left. I also found and recognized the identical tree against which I had leaned my rifle on finding myself to be too badly wounded to continue firing. There were some graves in the quiet little grove, and on a small head-board I found the name of one of my old regiment. Among some of the sunken graves, were also visible whitened bones that had barely been covered with earth, and were now, after the rains and storms of more than two years, entirely unearthed and exposed to view.

Between ten and eleven o’clock, I started for Hagerstown. The boys wanted me either to go back to the house or wait there till they should get a team ready to convey me to my destination, but I declined, assuring them that I could walk easily, and would really prefer to do so, as the weather was fine.

I made my way to the Hagerstown pike, and had not traveled far, when I fell in with a farmer who was returning from a Sunday-school he had been attending at the little church, and he urged me to go home with him and take dinner. Not wishing to stop so soon, I declined, with thanks. I met with several similar invitations on the pike. I must say, that the hospitality and kind-heartedness of the people of Maryland cannot be too highly spoken of. They had no fair opportunity to show these good qualities while whole armies were passing through their land, although even then they did all they reasonably could do for us; but let a person travel through the country districts, especially if he be crippled or laboring under any physical disadvantage, and he will meet with kind smiles of welcome from all, regardless of political sentiments.

Having traveled four or five miles, I was passing a house where dinner was just ready, when a good-natured old gentleman came out to the gate and said:

“How do you do, sir? Stop a moment. Which way are you traveling?”

“I am going to Hagerstown,” I replied, pausing.

“Well, you have not had your dinner yet,” he said with a tone and manner that distinctly added, “So, of course, you simply walk in at this gate and up into the house and get your dinner, to be sure.”

“No,” I could not help admitting; “but——”

“But What?——in the name of sense.”

“I am not decidedly hungry, and would like to walk a mile or two further before I stop.”

“O, nonsense! Come in!” And he opened the gate with such an air that I could not have remained in the road without insulting him. “Did you say you intended to walk to Hagerstown?”

“Yes, sir; such is my intention.”

“Well, you mustn’t think of it. Come in, take dinner and rest awhile, and I will hitch up to my spring wagon and take you to Hagerstown in less time than it would take you to walk a mile! Come.”

I could no longer resist, and allowed myself to be smiled and welcomed into the house. The good people therein—an elderly lady and her daughter—were somewhat astonished when I told them of my walk of the previous day.

“Is it possible you couldn’t get a wagon?” said the old gentleman.

“I could not.”

“If I had known it,” said he, while his noble heart shone out all over his face, “I would have hitched up and come down for you! Surely, there ought to have been some one there—However, people get pretty hard-hearted where soldiers are quartered so long.”

“Very natural,” I observed.

After a good dinner, which I had the appetite to enjoy, this hospitable gentleman, despite my protestations, hitched up his horse and wagon, and took me to Hagerstown. I offered to pay him, but he regarded that idea as one of the best jokes he had heard lately. No, indeed; I mustn’t give a thought to such a thing!

“The idea of taking pay from you!” he said; and laughed till we both forgot about it.

I stayed at Hagerstown that night and next morning took an early train for Harrisburg, arriving there about noon. I only spent a couple of hours in Harrisburg, then took a train for Philadelphia, where I arrived that evening, and found my trunk awaiting me.