On the day the town of Beaufort, S. C., was entered by the national troops, all the inhabitants were found to have fled, except one white man, who, being too much intoxicated to join his compatriots in flight, had been forced to remain behind.

“‘Tis the last man at Beaufort
Left sitting alone,
All his valiant companions
Had ‘vamosed’ and gone;
No secesh of his kindred
To comfort is nigh,
And his liquor’s expended,
The bottle is dry!
We’ll not leave thee, thou lone one,
Or harshly condemn–
Since your friends have all ‘mizzled,’
You can’t sleep with them;
And it’s no joking matter
To sleep with the dead;
So we’ll take you back with us–
Jim, lift up his head!
He muttered some words
As they bore him away,
And the breeze thus repeated
The words he did say:
‘When the liquor’s all out,
And your friends they have flown,
O, who would inhabit
This Beaufort alone?’”

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