The Barnwell people. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1884-1925, January 02, 1896, Image 4
■gm
•T
BBXrORO.
injoya i
me Mr. Savder’a jest as bad, from
beard. They’re
Well
N. T. |«4f«r.
Mm. Perkins had “dropped in” to
find oat what the Joneses were going
to do on Christmas. v
“We’ve promised to take dinner
with the Williamses,” said Mrs;
•Jones. “Yon know, none of the
children can come home this year,
if so we’ie goin' out to dinner for the
first timea'most senoe I’ve ksp’ house.
I don't remember o' eatin’ a Chris’-
mas dinner away from home more’n
two «• three times since IWas married.
I feel just as nerfons V fidgety over
it as I can be, fer Mrs. Williams
rim’s invited MrT Snyder, ’n’ yon
know how ’tie between him ’n’ the
deacon. I shan’t draw an easy
breath till it's all over, v^wish we
didn’t have to go, or that Mr. Sny
der wa’n’t invited, or there was
suthin’ to keep them two men apart
I know they’ll git to wranglin’ ’n’
like’s not have a regular qnarrel.
I don’t take a minnit’s comfort
thinkin’ of it I sh’ll feel jest’s if I
was eettin’ on a kag o’ gunpowder
that might explode any minpit”
“It's too bad that they , keep
a>hangin’ to that- ol’ diftikilty like
dogs to a bone,” said Mrs. Perkins.
“I ril’d think they’d be sick of it by
this .time. Ev’rybody else is. It
happened so long ago that I don’t
seapvto remember what it was about;
but I’ve heard so much about it that
I’ve got used to it, jest ss I have to
the meetin’-house, or anything else
I’ve known ever senoe I was a girl.”
“It was about the meetin’-house,”
explained Mrs. Jones. “You know
they wanted to build * new one > ,n,
the deacon he wanted it in one place,
V Mr. Snyder he wanted it some’rs
else, V tx>th of ’em bein’ so con-
trairy, they set out that if they
couldn't have their own way there
shouldn’t be a new one, V they
uarrelled ’n’quarrelled till they got
e wholtf neigbborhood by the ears,
’n’ the consequence is we Wat had
any new meetiu’-house, ’n’ 1 don’t
see’s we’re ever tike to have. Fve got
so sick o’ the thing, bearin’ the dea
con harp on it by spells all these
years, that I’ve wished, more’n once,
there could be a law made to shet up
his mouth ev’ry time he thought of
it But, good land, that’d kill him ”
laughed Mrs. Jones. “I do b’leeve
he mjoys abusin’ Mr. Snyder, ’n’ I
s’pose
what I’ve
matched.”
“It’s too bad, anyway.” said Mrs.
Perkins, with a sigh. “It’s made no
end o’ hard feelin’s in the church,
’n’ hendered the work more’n every
thing else that’s ever happened. We
all nke ’em both. They ’re awful
good men in most ways, but it seems
“t ef they was kind o’ loony on this
oua p’int I wonder if ’twill ever be-
settled ?”
“Not till one or t’other dies,” said
Mrs. Jones, decidedly. “They’re
jeat alike—contrairy as two men ever
oould be—V neither of ’em ’ll ever
give in 4 to the other, unless there’s
a merricle, which I don’t s’pose ’ll
ever take place. I can’t imagine
either of ’em admittin’ he was wrong.
They’re too set fer that”
“We need a new meetiu’-heuse the
worst way,” said Mrs. Perkin*. “The
old one’s been patched up ab’ fixed
over till there ain’t much chance o’
doin’ anything more for it Ef they
can’t agree, I don’t see why they
couldn't keep still V let the others
decide about a new one.”
“Ketch ’em a-doin’ thet,” said
Mrs. Jones. “They ’re jest as stub
born to-day as they was twenty year
ago. It’s ‘You shall do my way or
you shaut’t do anything’with 'em.
I’ve told the deacon it ^W£tright
V Christian to act so, but heatrays
flares up V gits so mad that I’ve got
so I hardly ever mention it, fer the
sake o’ peace. I feel jest as sure as
can be that there ’ll be a set-to be-
tweeu ’em ef they both gp to Mrs.
Williamses, V go they both will.
One wouldu’t stay away for fear the
other’d say he dasseu’t come. I most
wish the deacon 'd be sick so he had
to stay to home. I don’t b'leeve it’s
wicked to feel that way, fer I hate
quarrellin’’any time, V ’specially
‘ Chris’mas.”
Mrs. Jones felt it her duty to s y
something to her husband about the
matter, ou Christmas morning, be
fore they started for church, from
which place they were to go to the
Williams homestead.
“Now, Lem’wel, I do hope you
won’t let your temper git the upper
hau’ of you to-day,” she said. “For
the lars sake, don’t git into a dis
pute with Mr. Snyder.”
“I s’pose you’d have me hump up
V swaller anything he might see tit
to say to me, wouldn’t you ?” de
manded the, deacon, getting red in
the face at the thought of what he
might have to fear from his old
neighbor. “That may be your way,
but it ain’t mine. I don’t calkilate
to pick any quarrel with him. If he
minds his bis’ness ’n lets me alone.
I'll mind mine ’n let him alone, but
if he goes to twittin’, n throwin’
oat, as of course he will, I shan’t put
np with it ’thout givin’ as good as
he sends.”
“But it’s Christmas,” said Mrs.
Jones, “’n folks hadn’t ought to
qnarrel Christmas day.”
“I ain’t a-goin’ to quarrel unless
Pm obleeged to,” retorted the dea
con- “But I won’t be run on by ol’
Bnyder.”
“Mebbe he won’t ran on you,” said
Mrs. Jones. “Bat ef he says
thing jaa can take up, you'll
ady to jump at the chance. You 1
be on the lookout for something to
find fault with.”
“I s’poee be never eays anything
that’s out o’ the way,” said the dea
con, angrily. “I’m al’ays the one
that’s to blame! You’ve aided in,
with him ever senoe we had the
trouble. .But I again’ to be him.
himself there 's no law against it
that I know of. But there ain’t any
law that obleeges a man to set still
’n be ran on ’n orow’d over, ’s I know
of. MTindy, I’m goin’ home. You
can come with me, or stay ’n take a
hand in abusin’me, jest as you think
best” #
- And the angry deacon strode out
of the room, banging the door behind
followed him
and tried to prevent
path
lidn’t
into the
puttin’ up with any of
Let him keep his mouth him from going, but bewaaobdu
his abuse,
shet ef he don’t want me to tell him
whkt I think of himand t)^ dea
eon fairly glared at Mrs. Jones, 'whd
sighed, and concluded that there was
little nse in trying to avert a qnarrel.
It was sore to come.
“I do wish we could get a letter
from Henry,” she said, changing the
UPP^P - * fch ? i l,r der * “¥*>u’d have dene the same-for three side-wheel" ete&mera and the
th£^lj H< B& 15**ope o’my boys, if I’d had any an’ new Ironsides sailed from Hamilton
to try his lack at farming. Crops
had been a failure, and the last let
ter from him had been a most down
hearted and discouraging one. “I’m
afraid he’s sick. Ir he Wa’ n’t, it
seems’s if he would write. Mr. Sny*
der’s been out there, they say. Bein”
so near, when he was in Minnesoty,
he thought he’d make his sister
Mari&r a visit. I don’t jest know
what part she lives in, but mebbe it’s
near Henry. I hope he see him.”
Deacon Jones sniffed, as if to ex
press the idea that it wasn’t any
credit to the boy to have been seen
by a man like his enemy,
i The Christmas service was over,
and the Williamses loaded the dea
con and his wife and Mr. Snyder
into their big double sleigh and set
off homeward. Neither of the two
men looked at each other or seemed
to be conscious eft the other’s pres
ence. v
“My! but it makes me feel craw
ly,” said Mrs. Jones to Mrs. Wil
liams, as she took off her wraps in
the “best bedroqm.” “I’m all of a,
twitter, I’m so nervous. 1 sh’ll
tremble fer fear of what’s comiu’
ev’ry time they open their mouths.
1 do wish you hadh’t ask’d both of
m’e, Mis’ Williams.”
“I didn’t hardly dare to,” said
Mm WtHhnns,
‘What was the__uiB-o r
foolishness keep us from bein’ neigh
borly. He was goin’ to ask ’em, en
take the chance o’ the consequences.”
“1 hope ’twill all be peaceable,”
said Mrs. Jones, “but—I kn*w
’twen’t.”
They all sat down to dinner, and
the conversation became general, ex
cept between Mr. Bnyder and Dea
con Jones. Not a word.-did they
address to each other. They simply
ignored each other’s existence.
After dinner, the men went out to
the barn with Mr. Williams, to look
at the stock, and Mrs. Jones and
Mrs. Williams “visited” with each
other as they cleared away the re
mains of the Christmas feast Mrs.
Jones tried to be at ease, and not
worry, but “coming events cast their
shadows before,” and she felt that
her fears were sure to be realized. It
was simply a question of time.
The men came in from the barn
and sat down. Conversation flagged
for a time, as it is quite likely to do
among men who are hot in the habit
of “visiting” women-fashion. The
awkward silence that .ensued was at
length broken by Mr. Williams, who
rate.\] Oo he would, and go he did,
leaving poor Mrs. Jones to follow at
her leisure.
“I knew how ’t would be,” she
said, as she wiped her eyes as she
bade Mrs. Williams good-by. “I
ain’t n mite s’Drised at the way it’s
turned out Ish’d ha’ been dretful
m
fw
yovTve don! for Hen _
own the
<u he said this. Mr. Snyder dfdn
wait for him to reach the gate, but
met him inside it with outstretched
hands. |h4k ~
“Friends it shall be, then,” he
id* and. hi* faee hed^ a ghaHook in
it “It’s high time we quit our fool
ishness, I reckon. I’ve been sorry
for it» but I was top contrary to iwy
so.”
“Same here,” said the deacon, as
he grasped Mr. Snyder’s hand in a
that made him wiuce. “I can’t
tell you bow much obleeged I am fer
what you’ve done fer my boy—”
“Don’t mention it” said Mr. g
Just as she reached the gate of
her home, a neighbor drove np and
called out that he had a letter for her.
ong looked-fpr
letter and ran into the house with
ekger impatience to find out what
her boy had to write. The deacon
was building a fire, but his face
looked as if a fire was quite unnec
essary. He looked hot and he felt so.
II is wife sat down without remov
ing her things, and tore open the
letter. Before she had read far she
began to cry. The deacon was fright
ened. i s
“ He ain’t sick or nothin’, is he ?
he asked. But Mrs. Jones didn’t
answer. She kept on reading and
crying. When she had finished the
letter, she turned to the deacon and
looked him straight in the face.
“ Lem’ wel 'Jones, do you know
what’s happened to that poor boy of
our’n? I’ll tell ye: lie had to
mortgage everything he had last
year, bnt he wouldn’t let us know it
fer fear we’d worry, V he hoped
he’d have good luck ’n’ fetch things
out all right this year. But luck
wasTg’nst him, V he’d have lost
every blessed thing ef it hadn’t been
fer a friend that found out the trou
ble he was in V helped him out o
5T V set him-' right on
lettinUheir j^
betterin ever, he says* Now, who. do
yo s’pose that frioad was, Lem’wel
Jones?” , .
“I’m sure I hain’fc ho idee,” said
the deacon.
“Well, I’ll tell ye,” said his wife.
“ 'Twas the man you’ve been qaar-
relin’ with to-day. You’ve had
words with Mr. Snyder, but he was
the very man that behaved like
father to our poor bov, V Henry
writes that he said he did it because
he hadn’t no grudge ag’inst him, ’n
he used to think you one o’ his best
friends, ’n’ -he was willin’ to do it
fer the sake of old times. I don’t
know but Mr. Snyder’s to blame for
the trouble between you jest as much
as you be, but I’m goin’ right back
to Mis Williams’s to thank him fer
helpin’ my bov, V tell him that I
shan’t never forgit it To think of
what would have happened to Henry
ef’t hadn’t ha’ been fer him 1 I don’t
see how you can feel hard to’rds him
after you read that letter. An’ to
think that he never let on that he’d
done anything ! I’ll warrant you’d
ha’ twitted him about it if you’d
been in his place ’h’ he in yourn,”
that,” ftaid the
I feel a grudge
more’n you dlo.”
“No, you don’t! No, you don’t 1”
.said Mr. Snyder, allowing the deacop
lo pqll him, not unwifliWgly, iiUo
the house. “Jj like this! It’s some
thing like Christmas, ain’t it?”
Mrs. Jones had stopped at the
gate to straighten out matters with
herself. Was she dreaming? Was
she crazy, or—bad the “merricle,” of
Whose possibility she had had grave
doubts, really taken place?
“Wall, I declare!” she said, and
she could go no farther. It seemed
too good to be possible. Just then
the deacon put his head out of the
door to ask her if she was gaing to
stand there all day. Had she got
paralyzed ?
“I dunno blit I be,” she answered.
“Lem’wel, is the old diffikiltv done
with?” i j
“So fur’s /V« concerned, it is,”
seid the deacon, emphatically.
“I say amen to that,” said Mr.
Snyder.
Glory to God in the highest,
peace an’ good will to everybody,”
said M rs. J ones; ■ “It seems too good
tahe true, but Lhepe it ain’t My!
hut won’t the neighbors be s’priBed
asked what his guests thought about i and Mrs. Jones wijjeJJifir eyea again
rteflr
that was to be
the new town
bnilt *»
“I haven’t heard anything about
it." said Mr. Snyder. “It’s all been
talked up sence I went away.
Where’s it going to be ?”
“On the Dusenberry corner,” re
plied Mr. Williams.
“That’s a good place for it,” said
Mr. Snyder, approvingly. “A very
good place. The best place in town. 5 ’
Mrs. Jones felt her face getting
and took her departure.
* Deacon Jones took up the letter
and sat down bj the fire to read it.
As he did so, and the knowledge of
his old enemy’s kindness to the bo
so far away from home and in sue!
sore trouble l>ecame clear to him,
bitter and angry thoughts began to
die away. For the sake of old times!
Hoif he remembered the days when
he and John Snyder had been thr
best of friends! The memory of
pale with a dread of what was com- them seemed to burst the flood-gates
nig. The Duseuberry corner was 1 resentment and sweep down upon
where Mr. Snyder had wanted the
new church built. She glanced at
the deacon. His face was red, and
she knew by the look of him that he
was preporiugior a battle royal.
“What do you think about it, dea
con ?” asked Mr. Williams, riot aware
that he was precipitating matters.
The deacon cleared his throat and
blew his nose with a blast ffiiat was
like the sound of a trumpet urging
ou to combat.
him in a mighty torreut that over
whelmed him. Could he have done
what his enemy had ?
He sat there and thought it a)
over; and as he did so, it seemed as
if the spirit of the Christmas, season
3ame into his heart and took posses
sion df it, and drove out the old,
bitter thoughts. Deacon Jones lovei
the boy who had been befriended as
he loved no one else on earth, am
i.tlie kindness done him by the man
“All I have to say is, ef anybody’s 1 ^ith whom he had so long been a.
fool enough to want the towu hall enmity, broke down the fences of
built on that site, they hain’t got j hatred that had kept them apart,
sence enough to last ’em over night,' “I’ve been an old fool!” he said
I sh’ll oppose it, sir! I won’t con- “What if we didn’t see alikeT That
sent to hate the funds o’ the town was no reason why we should hate
each other. I’ve been ashamed of i,
squandered in a buildin’ put up in
sech a place as that.”
“Of course you’ll oppostTit,” said
Mr. Snyder, glaring at his opponent.!
“Everybody that knows you’ll expect
that. But that’s all the gpod ’twill
more ’n once, though I don’t believe
I ever admitted it to myself. It ain’t
|.Christian to feel so to’rd a brother
in the church, as M’lindy 's sail
time ’n ag’in, ’n I’ve knowed it al
to not be
ound out what
Sny-
my
they needed' help. I
would.” \
“I dunno ’bout
deapon. “I guess
any
know you
to-^eM-ott’U---3&ey won’t
-M-knojv they won’t! / wouldn’ ef
I hadn’ seen it.”
So it came about that “the old
diffikilty” was buried out of sight on
that Chriitmas day. And so may it
come aboujt that we bury the old
grudges iWp down in our nearts this
Christmas Day—so deep that they
never see the light again.
under date of December 12,1 find
tlis: ‘ Atl ready for sea; sent two of
ficers ashore in a boat to keep the
men from talking about the * powder
ship.’ -Thi* ‘powder ship', was on
idea of Gen. Bntler’s and was both in
conception and in effect ridiculous.
It was a source of mnehrdiscussion
at the time and the expectation was
that it would do mnch damage. As
a matter of fact, when it was finally
touched off by means of electricity it
did as little harm as an ordinary
cannon and made about as mhoh of
an audible report It was, never
theless, a subject of discussion and
wonder, as the pages of my journal
disclose.
I find this record of the 13th:
“Three frigates, four sloops of war,
new Ironsides sailed from Hampton
Roads at 4 p. m. for Beaufort” On
the next day we passed the fleet off
Hatteras ana the Monadnock, Canon-
icus and the new Ironsides.
The 15th finds this entry: “Ar-
rived at Beaufort early in the morn
ing; found quite a fleet in port; ves
sels arriving every hour.”
" > Just one week before Christmas
eve the entire body of vessels sailed
for Wilmington, and two days later
the first intimation of the “great
gale” is recorded briefly in the words
“blowing hard.”
This great blow created no end of
a sensation in the North, and in
many of the churches prayers for
‘those at sea” were sent up by fer
vent souls-who saw their dear ones
threatened, not only with the chances
of war, but with those of the ele
ments. And Christmas was at this
time only six davs off? On the
Tuesday preceding Christmas the
little diary, whicMs my guide, reads:
“Blowing a gale of wind so that we
cannot do anything; still at anchor,
within twelve miles of the shore,
Wind N. E.” On the next day the
wind had shifted to S. W., was blbw
ing a gale, which means a good deal
in nautical language, when it is set
down as a fact, “and the monitors
were all awash.” while many qf tha
The East Christmas Dinner.
la the Union Army.
New York Mall and Kxt>res».
The last Christmas dinner I had
during the war between the States
might be properly said to have been
“conspicuous by its absence,’’ for it
consisted of hasty bites taken in the
midst of the roar of cannon on board
the flagship Malvern while we lay
off Fort Fisher, which Admiral Por
ter had selected as a Christmas gift
for his fleet, and which, in my opin
ion, we should have had on that day
had it not been for the tardiness
and lack of dash on the part of Gen.
Butler. r
JL^ will be remem tiered that Christ
mas, in the year 18fJ5, fell upon a
Sunday, and usually in theuavy that
do. Folks hev got their eyes opened slong; but—I let the deviPinto my
in the last teu or a dozen year, V | heart, ’n there he’s staid ; but”—
\hey ain’t a-goin’ to be bulldozed as \ and there was a look of grim deter-
they used to be. I alkys said the
Dusenberry corner wairtne best site
in town fer a church or any other
public buildin’, ’n’ I’nireddy toback
opinion with money. The town
my opinion witn money,
hall’s goin’ to be built, ’n’ it’s goin’
to be built on the Dusenberry cor
ner, too.”
“I think that’s the place for it
myself,” said Mr. Williams, rather
faintly, though, for he was fright
ened at the prospective quarrel he
had innocently paved the way for.
“Oh, yes, of course!” cried the
wrathy deacon
I see now why I was asked to come
here to diriner. It was so you could
give that man a ohance to browbeat
me. You wanted to let me know
that you sided in with him. That’s
all right. If a man wont
folks know that he’s made a fool of
day and stopped only long enough to
provision his troops before they pro-
mination on the deacon's face as he
said it—“he’s got to get out. I ain’t
goin’ to hold a grudge against a man
that ’s helped my boy when he
hadn’t a friend to look to. Ef he'll
drop the old diffikilty, 7 will”,
The deacon heard the sound of
voices in the road.' He looked out.
Mrs. Jones was shaking hands with
Mr. Snyder at the gate.
“Now'or never!” he said, with a
resolute look on his face as he
opened the door and stepped out It
cost him a great effort to do what he ! material for history.
“Oftnurw you do." did, but he was not the man to put
' ’ ‘ his hand to the plow and look bock.
“Hello!” he sang out Mr. Snyder
and Mrs. Jones looked that way in
great surprise. “I—I don’t know
him. That's what you think about it, but /’dlike
wont* ti> let "to be friends again,” he said. “I’ni
willin’ to let Bygones bs bygone* if
day is riiarked by unusual efforts to
make “the mess” attractive, but in
the grim, closing days of the civil
wap,"Sunday was like any week-day,
knd even the double holiday of
Christmas and Sunday was not con
sidered in the effort which was made
to secure, by means of war, “peace
on earth” for these United States.
The scend on t>oard a ship in ac
tion, so far as such a dinner is con
cerned, can not be described, the
imagination must picture it. The
men are not only themselves in dan
ger, but the whole object of their
lives for each moment is to drive the
enemy from their “coign of van
tage,” and the excitement is intense.
In the actual combat one loses con
trol of all senses sa^e the one sole
idea of conquering. •As Hook back
on my Christmas dinner in this par
ticular year it was completely merged
in the struggle in which we were
engaged, and my own share of the
meal was tfie meager rations Which
bad been served to us every day for
months previous, seasoned by the de-
tonationjof guns and the prospect of
a possible immediate victory.
My diary at this time is that of a
boy and just thirty years ago, less
four days, 1 find this entry: “All
i^ady to start for Wilmington.” Of
course, even at this time we felt that
the ultimate victory was with the
North and tBe niovepients of the
various Union bodies, under their
generals, were certainly constricting
the Confederate forces sb as to ulti
mately crush them. 'But Sherman
has left in a letter a record of the
haste which was necessary to bring
the war to a close, and he says that
he arrived in Savannah on Christmas
nearer to a battle, hide safer, and
ge sooner then out man in the
army, appeared from tne shadow in
his “dug-oat” and talked to the old
sorrel as he led him off.
P*!’se-sequestered a bag of oats dat
squandered from de major’s waegm,
an you* gits a Christmas bellvful
" it, but whars de
b for Caesar and de captain and
sure: I’m glad of dat, but whars de
grab for Caesar and de captain and
de rest of de boys on Christmas day?”
He muttered something about Elijah carving as well as in cooking a pig;
Ships were'“Uragg+ug tbetr-anchors.
The next day there was no sub
sidence of the fury of the wind, but
the ships moved nearer to their ob
jective point and on the 23d the
story of my diary is a little bit more
cheerful, and more in keeping with
the season. It reads: “Wind went
down at sunrise; now things*Jaok
like work ; a large mail arrived.’^ A
Christmas mail with tidings and
hopes •irorn eager homes—hearts
whose love and future happiness
were bound up in the habitants’of
the ships that lay exposed, to the
winds and waves and the murderous
attacks of the enemy’s guns. , “We
went in,!’ says my journal, “anil had
a lx>k at Fort Fisher; the powder
boat was blown up at night; it was
a fizzle.”
This was the result that was ex
pected of the famous “powder boat.”'
Admiral Porter always ridiculed it,
and it had about as much effect on
Fort Fisher as if it had never been
sent. It was, during the time it was
guarded, by us, a source’ of great
anxiety. The day before Christmas
differed from the home ride as told
in the rhyme, and every “creature
was stirring,” and this fact is thus
recorded in my little book: “ At 7}°*“
a. m. we got under way with the
fleet for Fort Fisher, and commenced
action at 1 p. m.; fought'all the
afternoon and closed firing at sun
down. We have no forts yet”
This comment is ironical.
The next day was Christmas day.
But when the morning broke there
was no thought of the toothsome
meal of the season, or of the day as
a festival in Christendom. The ra
tions served as occasion offered were
“caught ou the fly,” as it were, and
the only thought in the minds of
the navy men there present was the
renewal of the attack of the,day be
fore. There was, of course, a remi-
uiscent Jlavor of dinners at home
with hotnefolks, but this gave way
at the sound of the first gun which
was tired at “11 a. m.,” and the fight
continued “until sundown.’’ But
ler bad arrived, the boats had landed
“some-trooos,” and the fleet began
to think‘jflie a tough place.”
'I timi my own comment on this
eventful day to be, “Butler is to
blame. He is too slow.” A fact
which is backed up by Admiral Por
ter in his book ou the war'and also
by the more important evidence that
is furnished by history, which shows
the capture of Fprt Fisher on Jan
uary 12. These were the scenes in
which my Christmas dinner was
eaten, and if it amounts ..to but little
as a dinner, there is this compensa
tion, that the day will be long re
membered as a Christmas when a
dinner was secondary to a deed; and
if I can not recount the bill of fare,
I can at least recall one Christmas-
tide which “tried men’s souls and
did not find them wanting.”
Amos M. Lyon, '
and the ravens and the Lord, and
the sparrows that fall; buta few
minutes later disappeared in (frlreqni-
fortable hole in the ground, singing
“ My love she af a coal black rose”
in happy-go-lucky style.
For a few minutes they were silent,
half sitting, half
blankets before the fire. Suddenly
the captain dived into the pockets
of his overcoat, and holding before
each officer a brilliant little piece of
silk ribbon patch work, exclaimed:
“A Christmas present for each of
us from the loveliest Virginia girls
you* ever saw.”
“A silk tobacco bag by thunder,”
said the first lieutenant
“The very thing I wanted,” said
the first sergeant.
They enjoyed the smoke. The
first sergeant who was caterer for
the mess, told him that next to a
good meal, which they couldn’t get
a smoke would satisfy the keenest
appetite.
“That reminds me, how about a
camp Christmas dinner?” said the
captain. “When I called on the
commissary today he hoped to have
a little bacon to add to our allow
ance, and told me that the ‘home
things’ of which the Virginia and
North Carolina families have de
prived themselves to give the soldiers
one more Christmas dinner would
probably reach headquarters this
evening^—
„ “They haven’t come yet,” said the
lieutenant, “but the com
geant is now at headquarters with
detail to bring down what is to be
issued
—r
’bout de culinary of a roast’r
and you habmy
dinner and merry Cl
With this exordium we collected
around the board, or rather two
boards, which formed the table* us
ing our folded blankets as divans.
Armed with a knife and homemake
wooden fork and spoon, and a "tin
plate and cup, each proceeded to
discuss the viands. There is art in
ceeded on their way to “the sea.
My record of these times is scant
enough and boyish. Had I been a
few years older I should have known
better and have elaborated
notes that I find in my
somewhat that would have furnished
But, even
as
it is, my entries may revive the
memories of the last Christmas the
Union men saw before the greatest
conflict of modern times was brought
to a close.
It had been decided, as I have
Christmas day and in my journal
fofind two or three boxes for
the men,” continued the captain, “at
the South Carolina home in the city,
in the old ‘Exchange Ho*el,’ and
ordered them sent out with the quar
termasters’ stores. But the railroads
are in a dreadful condition, and the
only safe route now to the South is
by the Richmond & Danville road,
so that our men’ wAl be sadly dis
appointed in not getting boxes con
taining something from home.”
Tired of waiting for the “spider
wagon,” as the commissary wagon
was known, the men had gone to
bed; that is, had exchanged their
situation in Turk fashion for a lying
posture. But a sudden shout, ‘Come
and get your rations!” brought a
member of each mess, even at that
hour of the night, to the commis
sary’s quarters, if a plank or two
laid on stumps could be so desig
nated. And with infinite care and
absolute impartiality,, the beef and
Hour and salt, a slice of bacon and a
handful or two of cow peas—the
last two iteriis au almost unknown
luxury—were parceled out to each
mess. And then were apportioned
the four or five turkeys and cab
bage, our contribution for a Christ-
dinner Jbo—the army--A feast
for a king, but scarcely a bi^e for
200 hungry soldiers.
The officers gave up their share.
While some of the messes drew lots
for a ‘turkey or a head of cabbage,
which was not enough for two,
others, composed of strong and hearty
men, gave up theirs to the weakly
or delicate.
The captain and his mess of six
offiers held a council before
turning in, Casar and the cat
erer forming the advisory board.
The result was an appropriation for
Christmas of $75 in Confederate
money, being one-sixth of their com
bined month’s pay, for no boxes
were expected from home.
. Their, combined month’s pay was
$450 in Confederate money, worth
$18 in gold, or, rather, in what gold
would buy in the besieged city, for
no gold was actually to be had.
Ca>sar at daylight started for the city,
with orders to do the best he.could
with the Confederate money in a big
roll in his pocket.
In due course Caesar returned from
the city, and disappeared with the
caterer in the “dug out” called the
kitchen, with a half dozen bundles
and a mysterious air. ■ 1
In each mess in camp the “cook”
was busy, every other member-hung
around the fire, gave officious advice
about the art of cooking, and got
snubbed for his pains. While some
smoked their pipes to keep down
their appetites and pass the time of
waiting, others orgauixed a footrace,
others practiced from an old book of
songs, and all looked with affection
ate interest at the bubbling .pots and
glowing coals.
We were located in what remained
of a pine forest, and no holly berries
a man we can not tell what sort of a
boy he came from, and when we see
a boy we can not tell what sort of a
man he will make.—President D. G.
Gilman, fmsident of Johns Hopkins
University.
Heart Disease Kills
Snddenly; but nercr without warntnn ■yntB v
tom*,such as Faint. Weak or Huncry Spells.
Irrepularor Intermittent Pulse. Flutterlnx
or Palpitation of the Heart, OhokIn* Sensa
tions, Shortness of Breath, Swelllud of Feet
and Ankles, etc.
Dr. Miles’ Heart Cure,
Cures Heart Disease.
la the Confederate Army.
eve
L glorious night, that Christmas
of 18fi4, crisp, cold and exhilar-
the young soldier who rode
the brief sting to
diary into rapidly down the Osborn pike, leav
ing the lights of Richmond behind,
thinking of the Christmas eve cheer
he had enjoyed with kind friends in
the city, who were more mindful of
the boys in the trenches than of the
dangers to their homes.
The officers had a hut at the bead
of the parade facing the fortification,
said before, to attack Fort Fisher on and as the captain dismounted his
faithful man, Caesar, who could get
you It is not, but a lanre.
suite equal toanything
I n order to start the
suites and to keep our
introduce our business
borhood, we agree to
only to each shippli
South for tlfi, when tl
with the order. This
will possibly appear t
r. therefore it you
market. |
e of these
n busy and
yourneifh-
ulte
ip one su:
oint in the
cash comes
vertfbement
i in this pa-
interestod,
th |1S and the
snipped ip you. If It Is
representola you may re
cite at our exne “
pper, |
cut this out and send
suite will be shipped t(>
not just as re
turn the suite at ot^r
Acting Master's Mate,
U. S. N. Flagship Malvern. or mistletoe or Southern moss wa&at
hand. That one Christmas dinner,
the pick of three days’ rations, was
ready, at last, in every mess; and in
the captain’s quarters "Ciesar an
nounced,with a dignified bow, that
dinner was served.
“Why, bless my soul,” said the
jolly first lieutenant, “here’s a stuffed
roast pig with an apple iu his mouth,
and a rice parleau and sweet pota
toes, and a huge tin cup of black
coffee.”
“ Gaidar,” said the captain, “ you
always was a trump, but you re
served your best card for today.”
“ I don’t know abont cards, sir,” ]
replied Ctesar, “but I was raised|
expense and
4 to you. Oox
many Uluatra-
and house for-
sent to yotfap-
is aspee-
ot appear in the
It la useless to
of this suite,
ixwas?*
t we will not ship
iborhood
your $15 will be refun
catalogue containing/
tions ot rare liarf '
j nishing goodft wi
| on application.
The suite above
| ial tmrgRln ami di
catalogue, therefor
I write for illus
liind while
some one else may j
We assure you thi
[ but one suite In ribir height
at this price. A flefone suite hea been
shipped m the neighborhood that
price will go to at leMt $80.
L. F. PADGETT
M# BROAD ST., AUGUSTA, GA.
CHURCHES.
We have IhrawheS i
srx-Aaa
rifkt, you IM.
AUGUSTA LUMBER CO.. i
JteW • 1
but why discuss the dinner ?
The meat whs fat and juicy, an!
although the meat was rather dark
and less delicate than a Chester
county infant, the diners did not
discover the fact that it was a
und-hog, captured by some of
s g&ble friends in‘a bill bn the
James river, until a week after the
feast Each particular grain of rice
stood on end, and it would have
done credit to the best South Caro
lina cook; and the coffee, which con
tained “ fJw grains of the genuine
bean to give flavor to the toasted
wheat, was pronounced gtrong and
delicious. '
As the dinner progressed belts
were loosened, faces expanded, the
health of the fair ones and dear ones
was repeatedly quaffed in the black
decoction, and the hardships of war
were forgotten. “Live today,” is
the soldier’s motto, for he can take
no note of the morrow. j
Captain Hugh R. Garden,
Commanding the “Field Artillery.”
The Future of a Boy.—Neither
precocity nor dullness is a certain in
dex of the futnre of a boy. Only a
wise man can tell the difference be
tween the priggishness of conceit and
the display of unusual, talent, and it
takes a superlatively wise man to de-^-
vise right methods of exciting tem
peraments that are dull, or, on the
other hand, to guide a genius. Ab
normal brilliancy and abnormal
et, Bam ape usually tin- result of ab-
jm *“ j r sen|r 7 normal physical conditions, and
physiologists are only just beginning
to show to ordinary parents how
these uiiusiiurebmlttioirH may be dlA-
covered and treated. When we see
Mr. Geo L. Smith, of the Geo. L. Smith
Mantel Co., Louisville, Ky., write. Feb. M,
1894: “For about a year I was a terrible snf- .
ferer from heart trouble, which got so bad
I was obliged to sit up In bed to get my
breath. I had to abandon business and
could hardly crawl around. My friend, Mr.
Julius C. Voght, one of our leading pharma
cists, asked me,to tT Ur. Miles’ Heart Cura.
I had used little more than a bottle when
the pain ceased and palpitations entirely
disappeared. I have not had the slightest
trouble since, and today I am attending to
business as regularly as ever.”
Sold by druggists everywhere. Book on
Heart and Nerves sent free. Address Dr
Miles Medical Co., Elkhart, Ihd.
Dr. Niles’ Remedies Restore Health.
We Desire
Tollntroduce our furniture business
into every community in the South
ern States, and in order to do so In
the quickest time, have concluded to
make some very liberal offers In bed-
, room suites to secure at least on*
customer. at every nostroflice In
the next 00 days. Please read this
advertisement carefully and send at
once for one of our special offers.
Our .great offer No. 1 consists of one
Solid Oak Bedroom Suite with large
dresser with 30x34 bevel mirror, one
large WashRtand, with double door
I and drawer, one #-fo«t Bedstead full
width. This, suite of furniture is
worth In any furaiture store not less
than $35. Do not think for once that
It Is a litt le cheap suite, for we aMr>fe |
Urfrstze
-73 C
*
. . . . . y
- * !
“few . —
-.ir:
•4 j'-'Va