distributed on the run.

There is no lagging

Not

everybody is willing-it may be life or death. And as to the process. The beginning is a trench, with the earth thrown to the inside. a spadeful is wasted. When deep enough to cover a man lying flat, the "hands" are shifted inside, and there another ditch is dug, and the wastage added to the bank, which is now long as the regimental front. It has risen like magic. If time allows, and the timber is convenient, the coping of the breastwork is overlaid with heavy logs. What is most surprising-the men who do the work, sometimes in feverish haste, who crawl into the inner ditch as if to take up their abode there, who defend the shallow parapet for days and weeks, will, when the time comes, march away from them without regret. It may be safely said that there is no labor so willingly done by a soldier as the construction of a breastwork or a rifle-pit when the foe have " got the ranges upon him.

Probably no army ever became more skilful in this "gophering" than Sherman's during the days it was keeping grip upon Joe Johnston. Their rivals, if they really had any, were the men in gray who opposed them.

Colonel Harrison's command did not fall behind in the accomplishment. From Resaca on they had scarcely a halt in the day or the night that was not marked by a hasty fortification; for

in truth the commands all came as near living under fire the while as soldiers ever did not one, but all of them. While Resaca was the Colonel's first real battle, it was simply an introduction to a series of others swift in coming, and each seemingly hotter than the one preceding. In one month he was engaged in more battles than his grandfather William Henry Harrison fought in his whole life-more than Andrew Jackson fought in his life. For want of space the engagements in which he participated cannot all be given. A few must suffice to illustrate the

many.

HARRISON AT NEW HOPE CHURCH.

The 25th of May found Butterfield's division on the march, and in a hurry, for there was warm work before it. Shortly after noon it crossed Pumpkinville creek, stirred by the clatter of a cavalry skirmish in front. As it proceeded, the sound changed to the deeper tones of battle, which are as base-drum beating to the tum-tum of a tamborine. The messengers from the advance explained it-the 1st and 2d Divisions of the corps (20th) had been attacked by a heavy force on the Dallas road, near New Hope Church.

Arriving in the rear of the position held by their friends of the corps, the three brigades of the 3d Division were formed in line of battle by regiments in mass; the 2d (Coburn's) moved

forward to support the 3d (Wood's). After going a distance of a mile in the direction of the firing, the 3d Brigade bore off to the left, while the 2d advanced to the front, leaving the 1st in reserve. The country over which the movement proceeded is described as an unbroken forest with undulations from twenty to thirty feet in height. Upon one of them the enemy had fortified. The position was admirably chosen for the use of artillery; the whole ground of advance was, in fact, commanded by the rebel guns. The 2d Brigade, taking position, was at once engaged, after which it was give and take in close range for the remainder of the day. The sun went down upon the fight; darkness came, and still there was no cessation of the musketry and the roar of the great guns. And to all the indescribable horrors of the combat there was now added a cold, searching and continuous rain which had the effect to compel a cessation of the struggle.

But as, when the firing ceased, the result of the engagement was undetermined, the 1st Brigade was brought up shivering, cold and wet, with no dry place on which to fling themselves. Colonel Harrison, sharing all the discomforts with his men, set to work with them constructing a breastwork, and, that completed, waited for what the dawn might bring him.

In the mist of the morning the battle began anew. The night had been but a respite. Then,