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Mexican dragoons. By the side ot them
a horse, ready bridled and saddled, was
standing. I have since thought that the
horse must have been lying down until I
came near them, as otherwise I should
undoubtedly have seen him sooner. As I
stated before, it w T as a quarter of a mile
at least to the nearest point of timber,
and the idea flashed across my mind that
after all my narrow escapes I was fated
to be caught at last.
Retreat to the timber I knew was im
possible, for they could easily have over
taken me on horseback, and for a moment
I stood irroselute, not knowing what
course to pursue. But the very hopeless
ness of the case produced a sort of reck
less feeling as to consequences, and I lei
surely continued my route along the road,
at the same time trying to look as uncon
cerned as possible, and as if I wasn’t
aware that there was a Mexican within
five miles of me. All the while, however,
I was watching them closely. As I pass
ed them, they made no sort of movement,
except to turn their heads and gaze upon
me, apparently in the utmost astonish
ment, which, considering the “ figure I
cut” just at that time, is not to be won
dered at. There is not the slightest doubt
that just at that juncture, I presented a
very curious and anomalous appearance.
I was tanned by long exposure to sun and
wind, until I was nearly as dark as an
Indian. My cap resembled a Turkish
turban, the leather front having been car
ried away in some of my frequent encoun
ters with cane-brakes and “chapparal.”
My hunting shirt was ragged and greasy,
and my pantaloons were in no better con
dition. A tin cup hung from one side of
my belt, and from the other a carving
knife nearly two feet in length, swinging
backwards and forwards as I walked
along, and, to complete this unique cos
tume, a portly haversack surmounted my
shoulders, from which dangled the two
pullets and the duck which I had killed
at the house I had just passed. I don’t
wonder that the Mexicans were astonish
ed at my appearance, but then this does
not account satisfactorily for their subse
quent proceedings, especially as they could
plainly perceive that, with the exception
of my knife, I carried no arms.
However, they made no movement un
til I had passed them some forty or fifty
paces, when both suddenly rose to their
feet and sprang, one behind the other, up
on the back of their horse. I, of course,
supposed they were coming after me, but
to my great astonishment, as well as de
liglit, they put whip to their horse and
galloped off in the opposite direction, as
fast as his legs could carry them. The
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
one behind had a short, heavy whip in
one of his hands, called by the Mexicans
a “quirt,” and as far as I could see them
on the open prairie, his “quirt” was inces
santly going upon the sides of their horse,
and every now and then I could see them
looking back, as if they expected “ Old
Nick” himself would shortly be after
them. What they took me for lamat a
loss to imagine, but really if they had
taken me for the old boy, I should not
have felt disposed to quarrel with them
on that score, in consideration of the ex
peditious manner in which they relieved
me from their unwelcome presence. For
fear, however, that I might not prove
such a terrible object to other parties of
straggling Mexicans, who might possibly
be encountered on the l’oad, I turned off
from it, and made my way back to the
timber, through which I continued my
course, until I again came to the bayou I
had encamped upon the preceding night.
It was not quite so wide at this point,
but very deep and rapid. I examined it
up and down for some distance, hoping I
might meet with some fallen tree that
would enable me to cross it, but finding
none I came to the conclusion that there
was no alternative but to swim it. I de
termined, however, in the first place, to
get some dinner, and well for me it was I
did so. for it proved to be the last meal
that Flacco and I were to have for some
time to come.
■.
The Song of the Bee.
fji) UZZ-Z-Z-Z-Z-Z, buzz!
This is the song of the bee.
Tj His legs are of yellow;
» A jolly good fellow,
/t'KyfjP' -And yet a great worker is he.
In days that are sunny,
He’s getting his honey;
In days that are cloudy,
He’s making his wax :
On pinks and on lilies,
And gay daffodillies,
And columbine-blossoms,
He levies a tax!
Buzz-z-z-z-z-z, buzz!
The sweet-smelling clover,
He, humming, hangs over;
The scent of the roses
Makes fragrant his wings :
He never gets lazy—
From thistle and daisy,
And weeds of the meadow
Some treasure he brings.
Buzz-z-z-z-z-z. buzz!
From morning’s first gray light
Till fading of day-light,
He’s singing and toiling
The summer day through.
Oh! we may get weary.
And think work is dreary:
’Tis harder by far
To have nothing to do!
The Nursery.
♦♦♦
fiST* Idleness is like the nightmare—the
moment you begin to stir yourself you
shake it off.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
ELLEN HUNTER:
A STORY OF THE WA R
DEDICATED TO THE CHILDREN OF THE SOUTH R Y ONF
WHO HAS BEEN AN EYE-WITNESS TO THEIR
SORROWS AND THEIR SUFFERINGS.
BY BYRD LYTTLE, OF VIRGINIA.
CHAPTER Y.
ELLEN’S FIRST DAY IN A HOSPITAL.
Pment seemed to increase.
were straining every
nerve to procure men, arms and
MY ammunition sufficient to defend
rm themselves from the vast numbers
who were pouring in upon them
from every direction. Dr. Hunter bad
been placed in charge of the Hos
pital, in Richmond, and was constantly
occupied. George had joined the Rich
mond Blues, and was with his company
on He coast of North Carolina. Ellen
could no longer attend school, for the ex
citement had made her mother so much
worse that she required constant atten
tion.
Ellen spent a great deal of her time in
trying to relieve the wants of the sick
men under her father’s charge, and many
a face would brighten as she entered the
ward with her little basket filled with
delicacies.
At first, she thought she would feel
badly if she went in, so she only carried
the things to the door and gave them to
one of the nurses; but one day, just as
she reached the Hospital, she met her
father and he said :
“I wish you would come with me, El
lie; I would like one of my patients to
see you. He is an old friend of mine, and
takes great interest in all of you. But,
if you do not think you can stand it, say
so, and I will go in without you.”
“ Oh, no, father, I can go,” said Elbe,
“ and here is some nice custard I have
brought; may be he would like to have
some.”
“Very well,” said Dr. Gordon, “y ou
can ask him.”
Ellen followed on, keeping close to her
father all the while. The first thing that
attracted her attention was the stillness
of the ward. The patients had all had
their wounds dressed for the day, and had
been made comfortable. With the excep
tion of an occasional groan lrom some
sufferer, there was no noise to bo lieaid.
The nurses all moved about softly, a ll
always spoke in a low tone. For some