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TOIF JtX u JjLL Jx o xx Uxl JJk T. L. MITCHELL, Publisher. Vol. 6—No. 8. For Woman’s Work. “ZSEZOLA.” BY JENNIE GERALD. [Note.]— I have taken the liberty, in writing this historical romance, of weaving into it the names of historical characters, some of whom may be living at this time. Should this happen to meet the eye ot any of these, I beg indulgence for all discrepancies. I know nothing of General McClellan’s fam ily, save what I have gleaned from history. I have suited the character to the plot, and not the plot to the character. The war features are culled from printed ac counts, and from conversations with an officer who was engaged in them. I know nothing of the dialect of the people originally settling in North Caro lina except what I have learned from Miss Craddock’s works, and I have probably conglomerated with it the localisms of the common folk of my own state. Jennie Gerald. Picturesque Eseeola, hiding among the mountains of North Carolina, beholds her beauty re flected in the pure river bearing her name, as she reclires con fidingly in her rustic beauty against the venerable bosom of her majestic mountains, her dense forests standing in primitive beauty before her, as if to guard her from the confusion of the world. “The primal curse Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, But not in vengeance. Misery wed To guilt. And hence these shades are still the abodes Os undissembled gladness.” During the early part of the late war, a lover of the pictur esque, the huntsman or geolo gist who penetrated into this rural quietude, grew familiar with the log cabin on the side of the mountain overlooking Esee ola, enclosed by a lichen-grown rail fence, with its garden plat and tobacco patch near by. Here the traveller loitered to partake of some of the delicious finny tribe which Mr. Peter Green had hooked (as this gentleman was pleased to express it) from Eseeola River, or perchance it might be her wild-duck or the graceful deer that hid in the depths of her forests. And how nicely Polly, Peter’s excellent help-meet, could prepare the game which lucky Peter often brought home after a day’s hunt, or a day’s fishing 1 She cooked them over a log fire, in three-legged pots with great iron tops, over which she lav ishly distributed glowing coals. In this interesting occupation she was assisted by Daphnie Ann, the orphan child of a sister, that she had taken to raise. * * * * October, 1863. The declining sun looked like a huge ball of fire rolling down the mountain side. Daphnie Ann was milk ing “Spotted” just outside the gate under a large cherry tree, blushing with its lus cious fruit, while “Spotted” munched the new-mown hay placed before her, and Daphnie Ann drew great streams of milk into the little gourd sne held, which, when filled, was emptied into the wooden pail at her side. Mrs. Green was in the cabin busily engaged in preparing the fish to fry, and now and then looked into the great oven where the bread was baking, or put new coals on the potatoes buried in the ashes. Going to the door, she called to her husband, who was in the garden, “ter cum an’ git er pale uv watur.” A spring gurgling merrily in a cleft of rocks near by, furnished water for the little household. Here, on warm summer days, the tins of milk and butter were placed to keep cool. Here the lazy dragon fly sought her prey, snakes glided among the ferns, pebblesand water-lilies, and if the milk was left un covered, were sure to drink it. (I have been told by those who have had dairy ex perience, that this often happens.) Peter filled the bucket from the crystal spring, and just as he turned to leave, he “TO GUIDE, TO CHEER, TO SAVE, TO BLESS-THIS IS WOMAN’S WORK.” ATHENS, GEORGIA, AUGUST, 1893. espied a horse-man coming up the moun tain bridle-path. Daphnie Ann, who had finished milking, had also caught a glimpse of the coming stranger, and had hastened to tell her aunt. A stranger was always full of interest for this simple minded folk—a pleasant break in the monotony of rural life. Mrs. Green, screening her eyes with her hand, watched the coming horse man. “Lordy Messy I he mus be one uv thim fine gentlemans as cum hyar that time an’ made sich a miration uver our river and trees; don’t you ’member, Daphnie Ann? he made a pictur uv ’em.” By this time Peter had reached the door, and just behind him came the stranger. His mili tary bearing bespoke the soldier, his suit of gray, the Confederate, and Mr. Peter readily concluded that it was one of Gen eral Bragg’s men, who were at that time at Chattanooga. Mr. Green had learned if wMK For Woman’s Work. J ‘ THE UNFINISHED PICTURE. . V* In the cool of the curtained studio .. »<"/ M The lonely easel stands. get Like a faithful servant waiting true 3wSß»' , w'WfX' To his lord in foreign lands, * L/ffiSlnaF The palette spread with colors bold For tones that were never blent, war ySreßjoilk Awaits the slender-handed hold Os him who came and went. rk " For, the master-piece of all his work . wWA ’ • The artist left undone: Gray cobwebs o’er the canvas lurk, Craft spiders o’er it run. The gloomy mist, the stormy sea, The fishers want not much Save here a brush-stroke bold and free, And there a subtle touch. sufficient from travellers who sometimes passed through this wild domain, to know that there was a great war being fought somewhere beyond the Smoky Mountains, and he had been told that men shot each other just as he shot deer, and he shud dered, and wondered in his simplicity how such things could be. .Who has beheld the innocence of ig norance in poverty, but has felt that it would be almost a sin to enlighten ? In this rural home ambition had not entered ; knowledge, the enlightener of mankind, had passed them by. We have a picture here of ideal animal life, knowing just enough to provide for the few wants of their nature. With knowledge comes a desire for a betterment of our position in life and if the nature to which the desire comes is not noble, and the desideratum cannot be obtained by honorable means, how often the dishonorable is resorted to I Knowledge increases desire; desire leads into temptation. Oh, philosphersl oh, teachers ! bring not your learning eave it be accompanied with knowledge of Him who is able to succor them that are tempted. The soldier drew near, “Heigh-ho, good sir! can you give me food and shelter for the night? lam weary, having ridden since daylight without refreshment for myself or horse, and I ,am a stranger in your beauti r ul country.” ‘‘Yer welcum ter sich ez I kin giv’ yer, sir; Polly is jez fryin’ ez nice trout ez yer ever see, which I hooked frum our Eseeola river, and with her nice hoecake and taters, makes a nice meal fer a hungry, wayfarin’man, ez yer seems ter be, an’ thurs nota nurther in this whole kuntry kin giv’ sich milk ez Spotted. Light, git off’n yer hoss, an’ kem along in then house; lerame take yer hoss, I’ll giv’ him sum uv our new cut hay; Polly, mek this soljier gentleman comfortable, an’ see that he gits a nice supper.” Captain Mortimer Lynne was one of the brave army of General Bragg, near Chat tanooga. He was known among the men as “daring Captain Lynne,” but his bravery was only commensurate with his goodness. After the Battle of Chickamauga,,he was among other kind hearts to straighten the limbs of the dead with a touch like the gentleness of a woman. He had words of consolation for the dying, and little did it matter to him on the battlefield whether In the gloom of the curtained studio— While thefaithful easel stands Like a lonely critic, old and slow, With his last gem in his hands-- It waits, with undreamed memories rife, And the dust of years grown thick, A type of the artist’s glad, brief life— Snuffed ere a half-burned wick. Janet Bowmastkr. the sufferer was one of his own men or an opponent. Tall, atheletic, eagle-eyed Cap tain Lynne—the dark, neglected beard did not conceal the play of features which bespoke firmness and great strength of character. And he it is who now dismounts his faithful horse for rest and refreshment in Peter Green’s cabin. How welcome this rural abode after his late excitement and wearisome journey! What a strange fate had led him here 1 He closed his eyes; was it that he was trying to close the door of memory against the roar of mus ketry, the shout of victory, and most horrible of all, the groans of the dying who lay helpless in the noontide sun in clotted blood that but a few hours previous filled the now emaciated form with life ? Yes, he tried to close his memory to it, but there was a picture, do what he would,that would thrust itself between him and his KATE GARLAND, Editress. 50 Cts. per Year. quiet. Again he heard the feeble words: “Show mercy, oh, sir, to a dying man, though from your uniform I know you are my op ponent. My name is Fremont, William Fremont. After being wounded, I tried to find a spring that I remembered seeing somewhere in this direction, but growing weaker and weaker, I crawled into the shadow of this <ree where you find me. I saw them in the distance burying our dead, and the ambulance carrying off the wounded, but I was concealed by the undergrowth, and I was unable to call. I thought I would die here with no one to car ry a message to my loved ones; the vultures to consume my flesh, and my bleached bones in after years to tell that an un known soldier perished here. But God has sent you to me. Oh, sir, life will soon b» over, but I learned at my mother’s knee of the ‘Prince of Peace;’ and He hastens to me with peace after this warfare. But I leave my gentle Mary, my wife of three years ; our unborn child shall never know a father’s love. Oh, sir, this is my only re gret.” His lips quivered, but his eyes, which wore a look, not of this earth, be trayed no moisture. “Will you take a message to my wife? She is at that weird place, Blowing Rock, North Caro lina, somewhere beyond the Smoky Mountains. Tell her of my last moments, and that I com mend her to the keeping of Him who is a‘husband to the widow’ and a ‘father to the fatherless.’ Our home is in New York, but she expected to winter on the North Carolina coast. Owing to distur bances there, she withdrew to the western part of the state. Will you see that this poor body of mine is placed beneath the e nth,and my burial place marked, so that in after years my child with wan dering footsteps may stop to lin ger by a father’s grave, and per chance my spirit may come with parental embrace.” The dying soldier who had raised himself a little while talk ing, with the last word fell in utter exhaustion, and scarcely had Mortimer Lynne time to promise that his wishes should be attended to ere the spirit of William Fre mont winged its flight to the pres ence of the ‘Prince of Peace.’ And this is the strange fate that decreed that Captain Lynne should climb the mountain steep, ride through the valleys, ford swollen mountain streams and pass over almost impassable places, that be might carry the message of poor William Fremont to his widow, being granted leave of absence for this purpose. While the Green family were partaking of their simple meal in rustic fashion, Captain Lynne felt ta«t he could testify to Peter’s as sertion that “Polly’s hoe-cake and taters,” with the fish, made a nice iinealftr a wayfaring man. As he at tetapted to give them some idea of who he was, what he had been doing, and his pres ent mission, their eyes dilated with amaze ment and his conversation was frequently interrupted with such exclamations as “Lordy Massy!” “Du tell.” ***.♦ * • * * A youthful theological student from a seminary in Virginia sat on deck of one of those handsome Hudson River steamers that ply between New York City and Al bany, on the 25tb. of June, 1856, looking out cn the Palisades that seemed to say to the water: “Thus far shalt thou come, and no farther.” The young man was a trifle pale, from close application to study. On the morning ofthissame day ahandsome military student at West Point, New York, was sitting in the parlor of one of those lovely West Point cottages, in con versation with a beautiful girl. You could tell from their striking resemblance that they were brother and sister. “Mary, I neglected to tell you that I am expecting a friend from the South to-day He is a young divine, and you must lay aside all frivolities for a while, at least ”