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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 132 [04-11-1862]

              117
		�California Joe.�
of men, as I had ample opportunity of knowing
afterwards) had been considerably laughed at, in
consequence.  The party, too, were considerably exer-
cised about a Tribune editorial, erroneously ascribing
the origin of the regiment to Senator Wilson, and
one young fellow � orderly or something of the sort
� had commenced an ungrammatical letter, written
in my name, correcting my blunder which I was
modestly expected to telegraph on, immediately.  A
promise as to next letter put all to rights, and
Berdan began to deluge me with particulars as to
the day�s achievements of his men.    Soon it was
noised in our direction that �Californy� had come
in, so we went to see him.           The sharpshooter,
a wild-looking man, with a fell of curly brown
hair and a rough physiognomy, all spatter-
ed with blood, stood near a camp-fire, surround-
ed by a group of admiring comrades.   He had
on a heavy soldier�s overcoat with its cape twisted
about his neck, and a rifle in hand, from the
muzzle of which a piece of steel had been struck
off by a rebel bullet, wounding his nose and
cheek, from whence his ensanguined appearance.
His talk was as rough as his aspect.     �You should
have seen us spank them ____s a___s, Colonel,�
he said.       He had remained in a rifle pit until 
the hail of bullets compelled him, growlingly, to
withdraw.    �The durned old pit warnt o� no ac-               
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