His master lived in Thomasville.

He, himself, did not have much to eat, but he would show us where to stay, and when the folks went to bed he would bring us some food.

Passing up close to the negro quarters we got over the fence and lay down behind it, to wait for our supper.
We had been there but a short time when a young negro came out, and passing close by us, went into a fence corner a few panels distant and, kneeling down, began praying aloud, and very, earnestly, and stranger still, the burden of his supplication was for the success of our armies.
I thought it the best prayer I ever listened to.

Finishing his devotions he returned to the house, and shortly after the old man came with a good supper of corn bread, molasses and milk.

He said that he had no meat, and that he had done the best he could for us.