During the march of MeClellan’s army up the Peninsula, from Yorktown, a tall Vermont soldier got separated from his regiment, and was trudging along through the mud, endeavoring to overtake it. Finally, coming to a crossing, he was puzzled as to which road he should take; but on seeing one of the “natives,” his countenance lighted up at the prospect of obtaining the desired information, and he inquired, “Where does this road lead to?” “To hell!” was the surly answer of the “native.” “Well,” drawled the Vermonter, “judging by the lay of the land, and the appearance of the inhabitants, I kalkerlate I’m most thar.”