The Sergeant of the picket-guard being stationed near Pohick Church, Va., had his attention drawn to the tinkling of a cowbell in the bushes. With visions of new milk running through his head, he examined carefully, and to his intense astonishment made the discovery that as he advanced the cow-bell retreated. The Sergeant made a double quick retrograde movement, and immediately reported the affair to Colonel Hays. The Colonel secreted a squad of men in the woods, and the Sergeant again made himself conspicuous. He brushed about among the bushes, and the cow-bell approached. The squad soon had the satisfaction of seeing–not the cow, but a “Secesher” with a cow-bell hung to his neck, and a six shooter in his belt. When he got within easy range, and in sight of the squad, the Sergeant hailed him:

“I say, old fellow, would you rather go to the devil or to Washington?”

The squad at the same time rushed forward.

“To Washington, I reckon,” drawled the rebel.

“I ain’t clothed for a warm climate.”

And he accordingly delivered himself up.