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NAVKD 11W A. DBEAM.
A '■‘brining Incident of the Bontard
mcnt of Atlant*.
were all seated around a comforta
ble fire in a little country hotel one night
last winter. Each of us had contributed
his quota of jokes and stories to the even
log 8 entertainment, when the conversa
tion drifted to war times.
As all of us, with one exception, my
yousg friend Mr. K—, had been in active
service, we were once more at borne, and
°oe anecdote followed another, while our
young friend sat silently interested in all
that he heard.
When he was asked to tell Icme kind of
war story, even one which he had read or
heard, since he had not seen service, he
replied by asking:
“Do you all believe in dreams?**
Os course we told him we knew very
little about such things, but always toox
stotif sos that kind with a grain of salt.
He announced that we had beat get our
salt, as he had the s’ory ready to relate.
Anything out of the ordinary always
proves interesting, and we sat all curiosity
to hear our young friend's narrative.
“It was while Atlanta was looking for
Sherman's army,” he began, “that my
father, a Confederate soldier, was sta
tioned with Lis company on the outskirts
of the city, near wbat is now known as
Panes de Laon Springs. I was a very
small boy and with my mother, who had
determined not to leave Atlanta
as long as she could possibly
avoid it, was living in a brick house whicn
had a very deep basement. Our home was
situated in the northern part of the city
and fully two mib« from where my father
was stationed. When Sherman began to
to shell the city all of our neig -ors ran to
our basement for shelter They lived
there several da.'s, and as there were a
number of little girls down there, I was
somewhat bashful and insisted on playing
ing upstairs except when forcibly pre
vented by my m >th'-r, and at night I
would slip off and go up there and sleep
in my own little bed.
One night my mother was
summoned to the backdoor by one of
our mos; fdtbful servants, and you can
imagine her astonishment finding my fath
er there p*ie aud auxious and under appa
rent excitement ot some kind. He hur
riedly asked her if all were well and asked
particularly about me. She told him that
we were uninjured and that I was all
right. “Whern is he?” he asked. My
mother told him she thought I wag in the
basement but she was not sure as I per
sisted in occupying my own room when
left to myself.
‘‘Goat ones and see where he is for
God’s sake,” he said, “and under no cir
cumstances allow him to occupy his room.
“At the risk of my life I have slipped
away from my regiment to give you this
warning. I asked my captain to allow me
to come, and as he was expecting an at
tack he refused me, I came any way and
may lose my life in consequence. But, if
you only kuew how miserable I have been
all day, you would not biame me. Last
night 1 dreamed that Charles was occu-
Eying bis little bed just as I have seen
im lying in it so many nights in happier
times. As hs lay with his little hands
clasped, aud his golden curls flowing over
tne snowy pillow, a shell come crashing
through the wall tearing his bed into a
thousand pieces, mangling him in a most
horrible manner ana killing him instantly.
I awoke with a start, and after a little
while I dozed off only to have the same
horrible dream repeated. A third time I
saw in my dreams that horrible sight, and
I arose and g ive up the eff irt to sleep as
walking in the fresh cool night air was
far more refreshing. I may be foolish,
but, for my sake keep our boy from this
horrible room.”
My father disappeared in the darkness,
and mother went, into the house at once in
search of me.
Failing to find mo down stairs she made
all haste upstairs and into my room,
where she found mo snugly tacked away
in my little bed sleeping as only a baby
can sleep.
She picked me up in her arms, and car
ried me down stairs. Just as she reached
the bast m>-nt door there came a terrible
crasb, and the house fairly shook, so great
was the shock. All trembling she laid me
down, and crept back up stairs to see
what had caused tbe fearful explosion.
Going into my room, she found the wall
torn away just as my lather had describ
ed it, and my bed was a perfect wreck
A shell had pierced the wall, struck my
bed, and exploded in my room.
I do not say I beiieve in all dreams, but
I have reason for believing in this one.”
The h> use above referred to still stands
on one of the most prominent business
»treats in the city of Atlanta and the wall
to this day shows where the shell pierced
it on the eventful night.
The boy tuns saved is at present one of
Atlanta? most prosperous business men*
He stands nigh among the people ot his
native city, and has heid several offices of
public trust.
Would Not Take $65 For It.
Here ifi what a Virginia lady who
bought one of our machines thinks oi
it. This is only one of hundreds of
similar letters which we receive every
day. She only paid us S2O 00 for it to
gether with The Farm one year, yet
kueeays she would not take $65.00 for
it. This is the kind of testimony that
leHs,
Tuomakek. Va.
Boc Thekn Pa km :-1 would nut take $65 and
be wiuuoac my machine. 1 have sewed on the
OutneJtic, American, New Home, favorite and
Biniceil but woma not ulve Thb Southern
Farm machine for any two of them. My neigh
bors ai itee it splenoidiy. Think some us them
will be '• As advertisement nae atop ped did
not kn w whether machine could be bought at
same p or noc - « 16 can p'ease let me know
atoocr as there are several who want machines
and 11 ink I can t>e a help to you in selling 1
feel joi saved me money enough on my ma
etune t pny me to do all I can in your favor,
Yours truly,
Mrs James G. Roman.
p. g._ L wish to say also your paper is a wel
come vl itQL M my husband is a farmer.
■llan Starwood.
People who have lived through the hor
rors of the war have often said to me that
it seemed more like a dream to them than
a memory.
To me it is just the reverse. Its scenes
are so vivid, its despair and suffering so
real in my mind’s eye that surely, I think
sometimes the war has been a part of my
own experience.
Our family homestead where T was
brought np is only a few miles from the
historical field of Bull Run and all through
the four years fighting my people kept
their post and by their bravery and kind
ness to the soldiers protected their prop
erty and kept off the incendiary's torch.
A soldier told my grandmother that
whenever the demon secesh ran away and
left their houses empty they always set
fire to them.
All around us valuable property was
destroyed and at Centerville, after taking
the Methodist church for a stable, they
burned it to the ground.
At one time our house, which was a
roomy old fashionable one, was full of
sick and dying soldiers. Even the garret
had pallets strewn about the floor where
these sufferers lay.
I remember of hearing about
one of them that died. He was very
young not more than twenty, and his
name was Archie West. They buried him
with > others behind the lilac bushes
in a far corner of our garden, and all
through the years of my childhood that
spot to me was invested with interest.
The boy soldier giving up bis life for his
country, and dying among strangers while
far away his loved ones waited nd wept
and watched for him. Oh the pity and the
anguish of it all. Whether or not there
was ever any communication between his
family and ours I don’t know: but just
before he died he said to my grandmotuer
who had watched by his bed-side like he
had been her own son, “when my Virginia
mother and my Tennessee mother meet
what a meeting it will be.” And now I
wonder if they haven't met in another
world.
Things were hard to get during the lat
ter part of the war, even when mon*-y was
Jilentiful. I know a lady who in a panic
est her home when the rumor came that
Fairfax, O- H , was going to be shelled,
and when she returned after a few weeks
she found her household goods destroyed.
“The first thing that met me when
I came back,” she said, was my
best bonnet in the yard, the flowers
and trimmings on one side of the
path and the frame on the other.” Inside
white counterpanes had been cut in two,
handsome furniture slashed and ripped,
and everything that could be harmed,
rained or carried off.
To this day this lady’s children tease
her about an incident which happened
soon afterwards. Breakfast was on the
way when a tall Yankee entered the kitch
en and demanded something to eat. She
invited him to wait and stepped in the*
next room a few minutes She returned
just in time to see him bolt out of the
uoor with a skillet ot fried eggs hot off the
stove in his hand. All excitement she ran
to the window and called after him:
“Oh sir, I don’t mind the eggs, you can
have them, but bring back my skillet; it’s
all I have got.”
A relative of thia same lady had bad
her cellar rifled of everything in it but
one barrel of cider and this she deter
mined to save, so when the next soldier
demanded the key she quietly led the way,
unlocked|th« door, anu quickly precedes
him so as to reach the barrel first.
When be came up to her she had re
moved the bung and was to all appearance
sprinkling something in the hole. His
keen eye caught the motion of her hand
and suspecting foul play he tasted the
cider, said it was no good and left it.
I have heard a cousin of mine tell of a
night of horror she spent.
She was only twelve years old, and the
soldiers had carried off every eatable
thing, nearly, about the place, when an
officer rode up and asked if there were any
npe peaches in the orchaid. z
“No sir,” she answered “they have all
been carried off.*
“I’ll go and see, anyway," he replied,
dismounting.
“And when you have taken the last
one,” she retorted, her wrath rising, “I’ll
be glad; for then there’ll be nothing more
to take.”
“Oh, yes, sis,” he answered, “for then
I’ll take you.”
“My bare feet,” she said, “went
flying to the house and never
paused till they reached the
garret, and there I staid hid behind a
clothes horse the balance of the day. That
night I slept with several rocks and an old
bayonet under my pillow, and waking at
every sound and expecting my kidnapper
to arrive every minute, I spent a night of
honor.”
Os course the man only meant to tease
her, and it was her childish fears that
made the peril.
Near Centerville are a number of earth
works, on some of which tall full-grown
trees are standing—showing how long it
has been since the war ended. I have bsrn
Cast Bull Run battle-field time and again
ut there is nothing much of interest to be
seen there.
The “Henry House” still stands through
which a shell passed while the battle was
raging, killing a woman who was sick in
bed, and the old trees near by are full of
bullets and bullet holes.
The land is all in cultivation and it is
hard to gaze at the peaceful scene it pre
sents and picture to yourself how it looked
strewn .with dead soldiers and red with
blood.
The next morning after the first Bull
Run battle a pallid man came stealing up
the back way to our house: “Ou
madam,” he said to my grand
mother, “I am all but dead.
Since sundown 1 have been sitting by
the creek there in the woods with the
blood and brains oozing out of my head.
I don’t know which way to fly, for they
have routed ns. Builygaurd was there
and he had bully men, and they fought
bully, and have won the day.”
Ellbn Starwood.
LADIES
Needing atonic, or children who want build
ing up. SDOuld take
BROWN’S IRON HITTERS.
It Is pleasant to take, cure» Malaria, Indi
fNtlou. Biliousness and Liver Coumlamta.
HE SOUTHERN FARM.
before bull kun.
A Boy-Oonfederata as a picket.
Aberdeen, Miss., Nov., 1893.
In April, 1861, all business in North
Mifl'issippi had been suspended, and won
derful preparations were being made for
the coming conflict. I was but four years
in my “teens,” and was classed as a
“kid Dot large enough or old enough to
be called a boy, but no sixteen-year-old
“kid” experienced more joy than I did
when I was unanimously elected to mem
beis'aip in my company. Patriotism ran
high in those days; I remember the morn
ing we left for the front a brawny son of
Erin came trudging into town with his
pack of notions and fancy dry goods, and
immediately offered his services, and be
b g a bright, cheerful fellow, was prompt
ly accepted by the company. His pack
was at once off-red for sale at auction and
brought four times its value. He proved
to be a good one, and poor fellow I saw
him shot down immediately in front of the
enemy’s stronghold on Cemetery ridge,
Gettysburg, July 3rd, carrying the colors
of the 11th Miss Regiment.
Wa were hurried forward and in May
(1861) composed one of the first organized
brigades for the defence of Historic Har
per’s Ferry.
Many stirring and interesting scenes
occurred there, and there I spent my first
night on picket, or more properly a ski
mish line.
Just before evacuating the town, Patter
son was reported to be advancing on us,
and as we supposed, preparations were be
ing made for a great battle. While labor
ing under tl e excitement and anxiety
preceding the first great battle, a staff
c-r came dashing into camp about one
o’clock in the morning and directed Col.
Moore to send teu select men from each
company to rep >rt to Capt Ware at a
given place and for him to hurry on with
the regiment.
The Sergent-Maj vr was hurried around
to the Cspt dn’s with instructions to push
forward the detail and form the companies
and be ready to march at once. 1 had
been awakened by the rapid movement of
the courier and had listened with the pro
foundest interest to evi-ry order. My tent
was the nearest one to the Captain’s, with
eleven of us in the mess, and I began to
wonder who would compose the detail. I
imagined be would detail one or two from
each mess, and as I was but a kid, I nat
ural! tuuught older cues would be delated
for an important place like this
But I hadn’t tong to|iuuse|over the situa
tion, for the Captain soon called at my
tent and madeihis entire detail from the
first mess I was about the fourth one
called out and we were at once hurried
off Officers bad away of talking ex
citedly and acting so as to convey the im
pression that the enemy were on the next
hill, and so it was on this cool May morn
ing, we we.e directed to load arms and
move in quick time und«r the directions
of a Siaff Officer. 8 on we reached a
clover field to our right where we were
deployed as skirmisher with instructions
to fire on any thing that advanced on us.
In a few moments a whispered order was
passed down the line to lie down and to
keep a close lookout for the enemy’s
skirmishers. The moon was on the last
quarter with a fair array of stars strug
gling to lend their assistance in lighting
up the laudscape, but an occasional cloud
would steal across the moons rays pur
posely it seemed to add gloom and just a
little confudon to the situation. Just
then I saw a skirmish line and promptly
I cocked my Rifle, but then it
occured to me to wait for orders
to commence firing, and then I
nervously waited, half scared and half de
termined to stand to my post, supported
as I see now by just enough pride to pre
vent me from di gracing myself.
Just then they too lay down, but in a
short while all rose np again, and as I im
agined advanced just a little and again
lay down.
This was more than I could stand, and I
crawled down to Glav Tubeviile, than
whom a better one never lived, and re
lated to him in a whispered tone what I
had seen.
He too had undergone a similar expe
rience, but we agreed to await develop
ments.
Day was a week coming, but when it
did our skirmish line proved to be a post
and wire fence. This night’s experience
was worth all to me in the stormy days
tbat followed.
Gen. Johnston had a few days game of
hide and seek with Pvtteison when he
vanished from the vauey lik? a ghost and
proved an important factor in the first
great battle of Bull Run, of which I may
say something as soon aa the readers ot
the Gray and Biue exhaust their criticism
ot this night’s experience in which 1 have
perhaps said too much of myself.
' J. M. P.
Story of the Rider James Gordon
Bennett—The Journalist.
Ed. Flynn, who for many year?,
time does not tell, in the Herald office,
has occupied many grades, from re
porter to city editor of the Telegram
and of the Herald, up to managing ed
itor of the latter paper, tells the fol
lowing story characteristic of the el
der James Gordon Bennett:
“Eddie” says that one day “the old
man came down to the office, full, as
usual, of energy and rush. He bad in
his hand an old silk umbrella, time
worn and faded. He busied himselt
going hither and there, giving orders
and instruction?, as he deemed they
were required, until about eleven
o clock. In the mean time he had
found faulr. with Mr. Hudson, as man
aging editor, for not giving enough
money to Mr. Edward Pollard, the
?hi h wL° f F h ni C « nfede rate history of
the war, for his description published
JL the r H TJ d ’ ° f “The P Evac P ua?!on o?
the Confederate Military Forces
from Bicbmand.” Mr. Hudson had
jivwMr.J-.il,Man, , i“£
umn for the article, which oocapied
the space of two columns and a half
Mr. Bennett said, “You must give him
one hundred dollars more a column
for the article.”
And after the increased check had
been drawn to Mr. Pollard’s order,
Mr. Bennett looked around and be
thought him»elf of bis personal sur
roundings and failed to perceive his
old umbrella.
“Benjamin” was an old colored em
ploye in the office, and Mr. Bennett
called to him to look it up. But after
fonie minutes f-i the vam quest Ben
jamin failed to find it. Tne loss of
nia old umbrella troubled Mr. Bennett
greatly, and he could not get over it
easily.
“And there is where the character
istic disposition of his mind was
shown,’ said Mr. Flynn, “for he
thought more of that old umbrella
than he did of the voluntary two hun
dred and fifty dollars additional pay
to Mr. Pollard for his article. Because
that was for his dearly beloved Her
ald.”
P. T. Eaton.
One of Blumarck’i Habits-
Once when Bismarck was a cavalry
officer he was standing with some
other officers on a bridge over a lake.
As he was about to give an order his
groom, Hildebrand, rode one of the
norses to wafer close by the bridge.
Suddenly the horse lost footing, and
Hildebrand, clinging to the animal,
disappeared with it in the water. Be
fore the other officers could collect
their senses Bismarck had cast of! his
sword and his uniform and had thrown
himself in the lake to save his servant
By good fortune he seized him, but
the man clung to him so closely in his
death agony that he had to dive be
fore he could loose himself from him.
Bismarck rose to the surface, raising
his servant with him, and brought
him safe to land in an unconscious
condition. The next day the servant
was as well as ever. But the little
town that had, witnessed the brave
rescue was in great commotion. They
petitioned the superintendent, who
obtained for the young officer tne
medallion “for rescue from danger. ’
And now on great occasions, the
well-known Prussian safety medal
may be seen beside the proudest
stars in Christendom on the breast of
the famous creator of united Germany.
Bismarck, it is said, prouder of his
first medal than of all the rest put to
gether. -One day in the plentitude of
Bismark’s power a noble minister ap
proached the premier, and with a
tinge of satire asked him the meaning
of this modest decoration. He at
once replied: “I am in the habit
sometimes of saving life.” The diplo
matist lowered his eyes before the
look which accompanied Bismarck’s
lightly spoken words.—Chicago Her
ald.
The Blotted Page.
The writing-master entered the
class-room and passed from one pupil
to another to review the task he had
set before them.
He paused before the new-comer;
the page wa* blotted, scratched and
disfigured with the stain of many
tears.
“Master,” said the boy in trembling
accents, “1 have labored in vain; my
hand is crippled; there is no resem
blance between these crooked lines
and the model I have endeavored to
imitate; but, master, pity me, for 1
have done my very best.
By his sides sat his companion. “Be
hold my page!” he exclaimed. “It is
fair and cle«n, unsullied by a blot, un
touched by an ungainly mark. > Oh,
master, in my wisdom I forbore to in
cur your displeasure. Is not a blank
page preferable to the tear-stained,
misshapen attempts of a crippled
band that cannot and never will be
able to make a fair copy?”
The master threw aside the clean,
white page without vouchsafing to
cast a glance upon it, but he leaned
with infinite compassion and tender
ness toward the pupil who had done
his best; gently lie took his band and
guided it over the lines, with words of
love and encouragement, and the hum
ble pupil took courage and rejoiced,
white nis idle companion looked upon
his fair, white page,and saw its bright
ness overshadowed by the displeasure
of the master.—New York Observer.
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13