The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-03-30
ErInen for The Arkdnsdse Traveller.
 THE DOJHIUIES STORIES.
BY JENNIE PORTER ARNOLD.

army lfe instead of telling all sad stories?n asked a friend evening last winter, we were indulging in after dinner chat at the house of common friend, a New York dominic.
 Because l cannot any humorous side," said. "To me the war seems such terrible reality think of nothing but the suffering and death, the heart ache and loneliness"
 "I know all that said our clerical friend earnestly. Il was but a lad of sixteen when enlisted in Connecticut regiment in '62, and, in my nearly three years of service, saw as much of the sad side of war anyone; for 1 was in more than dozen of the hardest battles, besides numerous skirmishes; and there was no end of tough marches, hardship and suffering but for all that we boys never missed chance for practical joke, good story bit of fun.
 "To me it seems 8 mistake to dwell too much upon the horrors of battle or the hard lot of the soldiers, to the exclusion of the more jovsl side of their ex perence for there was ovial side and pity the man who never found 1t. You will always find when old soldiers come together al reunions and Grand Army meetings, or in social intercourse, it is not of the battles have fought, or the marches we have taken, of which talk the most but of the jolly scrapes we got into. It is Do you remember the night we stole the pig?' or Wasn't that gay old time when we played such and such trick?' etc. Why it makes me feel like boy again to recall some of those old times !"
 "Well tell us about them, then" I said. "I am ready to be your scribe" And out came the ever ready note book and pencil
 "No names, please" the dominic said, laughingly laying hands on the note- book. "Tve objections to telling you some true tales of army life, but it would not add to my dignity and influence to have it known among the young people of my parish, what young scrapegrace was at that time.
 "I think the love of fun must have been mine by inheritance, for always saw the humorous side of things, and could find amusement in the hardest battle; and in the dull routine of camp life was ever ready for anything that promised fun.
 "I smile to myself sometimes, even now, 1 recall some of the tricks we used to play. That condensed milk we had at dinner reminds me of an old joke on one of the boys. It was a hot summer day down in Old Virginia and there nothing to keep out of mischief except guard mounting and an occasional drill. One of our our company had just come off guard and had lain down near the tent In moment he fast asleep, lying flat on his back with his mouth open, snoring like buge-b blast. Several of the boys gathered around ready to play any trick that mlght happen to come into their heads. The air was full of flies, big southern fellows,-and suggested an idea.
 "'You jest wait a moment, bOysn l said, and hurrying to the cooks tent, returned with a can of condensed milk and big spoon.
 "About half of the company were on hand by that time to see what was going to do. Down on one knee went, and taking a huge spoonful of the milk began dropping it back and forth around his mouth and all over his mustache. His head fell a little backward over the knapsack he using for pillow, and his nostrils, which were large enough to suit Napoleonic general, expanded with every breath he drew, until they looked like the entrances to a tunnel; the milk dribbled drop by drop into these huge and the flies settled down beautifully. You know condensed milk is about as sweet as syrup and the insects thought, doubtless, they had found 'lasses cup. His lips and mustache were in a moment swarming mass, and as they began to crawl up his nose, shutting of part of his wind, he opened his mouth wider in order to breathe and let him have good dose down his throat. The flies followed the milk until his mouth was full of them and he was about the most interesting specimen of fy-trap you ever