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14 TURNWOLD, GA., OCTOBER G, 1862. Tar and Feathers Revenged. “ Jupt before the breaking out of the Revolution, a man by the name of Ditson, belonging to Billerica, Mass, was tarred and feathered in Boston, by the British sol diers, under the orders of Lieutenant Col onel Nesbit. The British officers wished to prevent the Americans from purchasing guns, and in order to furnish an opportuni ty to inflict punishment, and to raii^e occa sion for a serious quarrel, a soldier was or dered to offer the countryman an old rusty musket. Ditson caught at the bait, and purchased the gun for three dollars. lie was thereupon seized, and after being con fined in the guard house all night, was stript entirely naked, and covered with tar and feathers, and in that condition paraded through the streets of Boston. The Yan kees, however, began to collect in great numbers, and the military fearing for their own safety, dismissed the man and retreat ed to their barracks. Thus far the incident is related by a con temporary historian. What follows, we have from the lips of an old continental himself. Many a time and oft have we heard him relate the story, with clenched hands and eyes flashing fire, and always with this ending— 4 But I had my revenge.’ When he was dismissed by the British, he called for his gun, which, during the operation oftamng and feathering had been taken from him. * Take the gun and be damned !’ said the officer who had com manded the tarring and feathering party : ‘you’ll be the last Yankee, I'll be sworn, who will come to purchase a musket.’ ‘But not the last that will use one,’said Ditson, as he grasped the weapon : 4 and mark me, sir, I’ll haVe my revenge!’ ‘ The cock is clear game,’ said the offi cer, turning to his companions with a "laugh, ‘ but he had better ruffle his feathers on his own dunghill !’ Ditson by the aid of soap and warm wa ter, got rid of his feathery coat, but the idea of the insult clung to his mind, burning deeper and deeper like the shirt of Nessus. He longed for an opportunity of revenge. It was the theme of his thought, waking and sleeping. He dreamed of it by night— he pondered on the means of accomplishing it by day. But how was hetoaccomplishit? An opportunity was not long wanting for that purpose. His country flew to arms to redress its public grievances, and he to revenge his private ones. As soon as he heard that the British had marched to Concord, he seized his rusty musket, and ran to the scene of action. THE COUNTRYMAN. ‘ What are you going to do?’ asked his neighbors, as they saw him unyoking his team in the midst of the field, and at an unseasonable hour of the day. * I’m going to pay the redcoats for the tar and feathers,’ said Ditson setting his teeth firmly together : 4 Come on and you shall see sport.’ 4 But you’re not going to take that old rusty piece?’ said one. 4 But I am though,’ said Ditson : 4 I shall take none the worse sight for its be ing rusty.’ He hastened to the field to fight, and his neighbors went with him. Having selec ted the boughs of a thick tree by the way- side, whither the British were on their re treat, he climbed into them, and there, se curely ensconced, and taking deliberate aim, every shot from the old rusty musket told one. 4 I aimed’ said Ditson, 4 particularly at the officers, and the first man I dropped was the commander of the tar kettle. That did me more good than the best dinner I ever ate in my life.’ ‘There!’ I could not help exclaiming: 4 I told you I’d have my revenge !’— 4 Half a dozen shots were fired into the tree, but they were fired at random, for I was well secured with boughs, and only two bullets went through my hat. My bosom lighten ed as soon as the officer fell. The tar seemed, as it weie, to loosen fioin my skin, and I felt fifty per cent better. But still I had not completed my revenge. The tar had not. yet all dropped off. It was there still, in imagination, and the feathers clung to it. The British would make a fighting- cock of me, and I was determined they should feel the full length of my spurs.’ . Ditson was again present at the battle of Bunker Hill, where he had an opportunity of using the old musket to still greater ad vantage than at the battle of Lexington. Reseiving his fire agreeably to the mode enjoined by Putnam, until he could see the enemy^ eyes, he brought down his man at every shot : and several more, \\ hose coun tenances he recollected, as having belonged to those engaged in the tarring and feath ering scrape, fell victims to the strength of his memory, the accuracy of his aim, and the sure fire of his rusty old piece. He was the last to leave the ditch, and when his powder and ball were expended, he fought like a tiger with the butt of his musket: and as he dashed it into the skull of two or three of the 4 reglars’ in quick succession, he exclaimed, 4 That’s to pay for the tar and feathers !’ He suffered much in conse quence, 4 but,’ as he used to exclaim in af ter years, 4 I did’nt mind that, for I had my revenge !’ He recovered from his wounds,and fought through the war : .and although naturally brave and attached to his country, liis cour age and his patriotism were not a little stimulated by the remembrance of the tar and feathers. No single arm sent a great er number to their final account. He at length saw her free. Her injuries were redressed, and so were his own. He lived to be an old man. Poverty visited his hut. Every thing that could be spared was sold, except the old musket. He would shoulder that, ‘ And show how fields were won Then as his eye gleamed at the recollec tion of the never-to-be-foigotton insult, he would exclaim, 4 It was all owing to the tar and feathers : hut 1 had my revenge /” Epigram. “While Butler plays his silly pranks, And closes up New Orleans banks, OurStonewall Jackson, with more cunning, Keeps Yankee Banks forever running.” “A man of sense may love like a mad man, but never like a fool.” Bad Luck. Brother Medlock of the Central Geor gian, complains that he does not get his Daily Macon Telegraph more than half the time. I would have been down with the same complaint, for some time past, bat for the fact that I ajn satisfied the failure must be in the TeTegiaph office : and as brother Clisby is kind enough to exchange with me at all, I feel that I have no right to complain. I am much obliged to him for his paper, even occasionally, as it is a favorite paper.with me, but would be still more obliged if I could get it regularly.—Our P. M. assures me that the Telegraph does not come regularlj, and I have several times stood by him as he called the papers, and have seen that mine did not come. Letter from J. B. R. Mr. Countryman :—I date this letter at Staunton, Va., Sept. 24th, 1862.—To re count to you all of interest which I have seen since writing last, would be to make a letter too voluminous : consequently, I must pass over, unnoticed, many things which took place on our trip to Maryland, to give room for that which is of more ims portauce, and more worthy of considera tion on the part of your readers. We all had quite a lively time, crossing the Potomac, marching to Frederick, &c., living almost entirely on green corn, with regular rations of beef.—The entire army