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Updated: June 28, 2025
It was all that George could do to keep his balance, particularly when he was called upon to feed the engine fire with wood from the tender. Once Waggie, who showed a sudden disposition to see what was going on around him, and tried to crawl out from his master's pocket, came very near being hurled out of the engine.
There were shouts from many voices; he even heard the report of several rifles. But shouts or shots from rifles could not avail now. The engine was dancing along the track on the road to Chattanooga; Big Shanty was soon many yards behind. George took Waggie out of his pocket, and held him up in the air by the little fellow's forepaws.
"You were never more mistaken in your life," answered his friend. "He's only playing a game. I know something about faces and this boy here has lots of sense." George called Waggie, put the animal in his pocket, and walked to the door of the little station without taking any notice of this compliment to his sagacity. Under the circumstances he should have preferred the deepest insult.
Jason how the doggie can say his prayers." She hauled Waggie from George's coat, and held him in front of the farmer. George seized Waggie and returned him to his pocket. There was an angry flush on the boy's face. He had no kind feelings for pretty Miss Peyton. Jason's expression underwent a complete transformation when he saw the dog.
In their trousers pockets they stuffed their watches and some Confederate money. A sudden thought crossed George's mind. It was a painful thought. "What's to become of Waggie?" he asked. "I can't leave him here." He would as soon have left a dear relative stranded on the bank of the river. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave him," said Watson. "I can't," replied George.
"Well," he said, at last, "I am going back to camp now, and I start out before daylight. If you can induce the General to let you accompany us before that time I'll make no objection." George gave a little exclamation of delight. "Come," he said, snapping his fingers at Waggie, "let us see what we can do to talk the old General into it."
At last he gave a faint exclamation of satisfaction, and stole back to his own room. Waggie, who was now lying on the bed, moved uneasily. George lighted a candle and examined the plastered wall which ran between his room and the one where the unconscious Watson and Macgreggor were gently snoring.
As Waggie finished his performance Watson rose, and stretched out his hand towards George. "Let's be going," he said. "All right," answered George. He was about to say good-bye, and lead his companion to the door, when a turbaned negress entered the room. "Massa Peyton, Massa Charles Jason done ride oveh heh ta see you." "Is he here now?" asked Mr. Peyton. "Then show him in.
"Say good-bye to the Confeds," he shouted, "for by to-night, Wag, you'll be in the Union lines!" The dog barked gleefully; and jumped about on the platform of the tender, glad enough to have a little freedom again. Then Waggie was replaced in his master's pocket. Andrews, who was sitting on the right-hand seat of the cab, looked the picture of delight. "How was that for a starter?" he cried.
Waggie had been consigned to a member of General Mitchell's staff, to remain with him during his owner's absence, but George had not proceeded five miles on his journey before he heard a joyous bark behind him and there frisked and capered Waggie. "You'll have to turn spy now," George said. It was too late to send him back. Thus the dog joined the party, much to the pleasure of all concerned.
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