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GIDEON’S FOUNTAIN.
You know the sacred legend old.
How, to the fountain’s brink.
When war across the land Mad rolled,
Great Gideon led his armed’fold
And hade them sloop and drink.
Ilowall t he cautious ones he chore
WhotiuufiVd front palms dipped down.
And put to flight his robber foes
V. it ii r i.a (:giii i r of battled blows
l>y .h greel’s loft y town.
Ac in the drys wheaGidcon tried
His men to find the true.
From out the mountain’s caverned side
The waitr veils a:. 1 wanders wide.
And mirrors skies of blue.
Tin- thirsty cattle come and stand
Deep in fbe cooling stream. hand.
Wind i t tided mils clasp hand with
And over all the wheat, t own land
ililis Galilean dream.
And as ire quaff I ho water clear
lire on we ride again.
We seem to see a throng appear—
'i he stern array with shield and spear
Of Gideon and his men.
— Clinton . collard in (.'ongregatior.alist.
THE LONE PRISONER.
Mark Twain has written an account
of a campaign that failed, and how
many, many accounts there have been
a: campaigns crowned with success.
Prisoners from Dry Tortugas, from
AndersonvilIt*, from a hundred other
prisons have written their experiences,
but I aiu sure the most lonesome cap¬
tive of war times has “written up” no
account of his captivity.
Let us go back beyond the season of
secession that ushered in the ruddysea
Kon of war, to describe a certain happy
homestead. It is a home already known
to many southern people. At mention
of Greene Springs homestead recollec¬
tions of pleasant incidents of boyhood
will rise up before many of the men of
the old south and men of the new,south
as well; for old Greene Springs school
has sent out many of her “boys” to do
good work for their country, both in
times of peace and of war. Many of
the students of this “Ilugby of the
South” rushed eagerly to the battles,
summoned by that first fateful shot
from Fort Sumter. Besides being the
life of ono of the most noted high
schools in the south, it was a home—a
home, for forty years, for the members
of ono most happy family.
During the war four generations of
this one family were ensconced in that
house, and thence seven young soldiers
went into the Confederate army. The
married daughters of the household
were now at the old homestead again,
since the first fateful news that sum¬
moned the young husbands to the front
—one to go us a surgeon to Fort Mor¬
gan, by the bay of Mobile; the other to
raise a company on and about the hills
of Hale, near Greene Springs, whence
lie led his men to an adventurous and
most creditable career.
A widowed sister of the mother of
the household had come to this wide
.armed house, and from there she had
sent off her two boys to the army. The
oldest son of the bouse, just seventeen,
had gone to the wars, and the adopted
son of the house also donned the gray
uniform of the Confederate soldier.
The grandparents of the household
gave up their youngest son to the
•cause.
Now mid then, during the long and
Hard four years, there w< re furloughs
for one or another of these young sol¬
diers; then again then* were stretches
of time when some one or the other of
the brave boys v.;us not heard from in
a long season. Then there were great
grief, deep anxiety and many agoniz¬
ing prayers in thijt house for that one
who might be, for all bis loved ones
knew, in prison, in sickness, wounded
or already numbered with the dead.
Anon there was good news from each
and every one of the seven soldiers;
then followed days of joy and linppi
.ness; tlieu there were their dances uri
•di r the light of homemade candles, or
perhaps charades for the entertainment
•of the soldiers who wore encamped, for
a few weeks, just across the creek that
run near the finit of Greene Springs hill.
Joy and sorrow came in quick succes¬
sion with the chance and change of
war; but there was one tiling that no
ohmiee or change of war could inter
nipt, and that was work for the sol
diers.
All the world knows how in that
halcyon time lor the south called “be¬
fore the war." each home was in itself
a principality, where the master ruled
supreme. Every planter and in those
days planting was vocation or avoca¬
tion to everybody owned his own
slaves, trained to all manner of trades.
end such a lib of simple and di^ghtful
luxury as these wrought <4$*.nr the
master the world has rarely seen, But
the war bet ween the states overturned
nil this.
N<* sooner was war abroad in the
land titan every lu-me was changed
ir. in u prim-ip. iiiy to a manufactory.
Every house in the (and became an
establishment for weaving.
N\ t 1 Vnelope and ail her handmaid
ens were busier than were the women
who worked in the wake of the war.
The grandmother, the mother, the
young in wives, the young daughters, the
aid*—all worked. There was a dick-
ing of knitting needles in the house
from morning till night; ladies walked
hither and thither, seeing to other mat¬
ters of import, yet always knitting. A
reel hummed its monotonous little
soil g in grandmother’s room. Spinning
wheels made dolorous monotone in one
up stairs room, and in another shuttles
played to and fro over the warp. One
lady of the household, who had a mar¬
velous talent for dressmaking, turned
mantua maker for the family, for now
no more handsome dresses could be
brought from the north.
A young boy of the family put up an
amateur shoe shop and made shoes for
the younger children of* that home.
Nice little shoes he made too 1 Then,
aftei the lxats worn under the Union
were worn out, more hats had to be
made, since they could not be bought.
One lady in tfae neighborhood of Greene
Springs knew how to make pretty pal¬
metto hats-—the style of hat still made
in some parts of Florida, the lightest
and most delightful summer headgear
ever worn. So it came to pass that the
Greene Springs people and all the rest
of the neighborhood were supplied with
hats of that fashion. Lights, too, in
those days had to bo homemade. These
lights were of tallow, subjected to va¬
ried processes, and then poured into
molds around cotton wicks that had
been grown, picked, ginned, spun, cut
and twisted by the “hands” on the
plantation.
Yet even with this lucent industry
going on in the house there were nights
when novels—for novels did sometimes
run the blockades—had to be read by
the blazing of pine knots in great open
fireplaces. Farm work had to be car¬
ried on, and the homely supplies of
meat and meal had to be increased. A
sorgliym mill was put up on the place
for the manufacture of molasses and
coarse sugar, and wbeaten flour, that
had heretofore been brought from the
north and west, must now be grown
and ground at home. Besides all this
to be superintended, the school was
kept up all the four years of the war,
and thither came many of the sons of
the south who were too young to be
admitted to the ranks of the army.
All the old students of this institu¬
tion who had become University of
Virginia graduates, and who might
have been available at other times as
assistant teachers, were now off “to the
front.” So it came to pass that the
doctor’s daughters had to be pressed
into service as teachers. For several
hours each day the newly made spin¬
ners, weavers and seamstresses were
tuetamorphosed into fair Hypatias,
■who lectured to young men on the
“ologies.”
Fortunately this home was spared
those greatest horrors of war—the rout
of soldiers sweeping over a home place
and leaving desolation in its track, or
the passage of marauding parties, the
riff-raff of an army, to whom nothing
is sacred—or the meeting of hostile hosts
in sight of one’s doors.
None of these horrors of a long con¬
flict came to harrass tiiis homestead.
Indeed, the war was pretty well over
when these people saw one of the in¬
vading host—1 say one advisedly.
He came, this one, not with flutter¬
ing banners or braying trumpets,
though he did march away to the
sound of the drum. He came, not
with the gay trappings and confident
air of an invading power. He came a
prisoner, and a very lonesome one.
His is the only real and well authen¬
ticated case of invasion of which Hale
county can boast—if she cares to boast
of such a misadventure.
He was a German, this invader, who
became the lone captive. He could
speak no English. He had, possibly,
fresh from a sea voyage, donned the
blue uniform at Castle Garden. I do
not suppose he felt very wretched or
very tragic over his capture, for in all
this melee of fighting between soldiers
who spoke one language, and in some
instance claimed kin one with the
other, probably this poor foreigner did
not realize fully at what moment he
crossed Mason and Dixon’s line, or at
what road crossing the inhabitants of
the surrounding country became his
enemies.
lie must have fallen very much to
the rear, and as liis brigade swept up
tire river after the several encounters
with the state university cadets in and
about Tuskaloosa, this poor fellow mis¬
took the route and swept down the
river. And thus, all alone, he came
from the hills of Tuscaloosa county to
the hills of Hale county, and some¬
where about the Indian mounds at
j I Cartilage (thumb marks of a race that
have‘‘moved on” long ago) our blue
coated soldier "invaded" an enemy's
home.
Then was there great consternation
I in the neighborhood of Carthage. The
j Home Guard hastened to arm them
solves and to disarm the invader,
' they kept watch for the hordes that
! might follow this simple forerunner.
j Very little could be got out of this
invader, whom lack of a gun had traus
formed into a prisoner of war.
But to some of the simple country
women, who came from near and far
to see a real “enemy,” it did not seem
at al] strange that a “Yankee’s” talk
should be so unintelligible to honest
folk. They thought that foreign tongue
of his was a very proper tongue for a
“Yankee” to liave.
To the ignorant ones of the neigh¬
borhood he was an exciting wonder,
with just enough suspected attributes
of an alarming nature to make lilm the
more interesting.
He was kept at Carthage but a little
while ere he was passed under guard to
Havana.
There the Carthage Home Guard had
the pleasure of seeing their own excite¬
ment, now grown somewhat the worse
for wear, reflected in all the pristine
freshness by the Havana community.
The Havana Home Guard soon
passed the prisoner on over three miles
of up hill and down dale and cause¬
wayed road to Greene Springs, the
home and school on the hill.
There at the front yard gate he stood,
a small guard about him, waiting to
see what disposal the doctor would
make of the prisoner.
The enemy at our door!
Oil, what excitement in all the fe¬
male elements of that home!
Shall he be brought in? Under our
verv roof tree?
No!
War has nearly spent itself; shall he
be turned free?
Never!
Shall he be warmed and fed?
What! strengthen the enemy! When
even now brothers, cousins, uncles,
brotliers-in-law, husbands, sons oj! the
household are fronting the guns of this
same enemy in blue?
Amid all this stir of feminine interro¬
gation and invective the father entered,
summoned in haste from his classes.
Amid general hubbub he was told of
the captive and captors at the gate.
Before all else, the father thinks of
the man’s bodily needs. “Let us,” said
he, “bring him in and give him some¬
thing to eat; for if he has been brought
from Carthage here on foot he must be
both tired and hungry.”
Whereupon the storm of dissent and
of patriotic utterance began to swell
afresh.
“Well, well, well.” said the father,
“we must heap coals of fire on our en¬
emy’s head, you know.”
“Heap coals of fire on his head!”
thought the youngest and most bellig
irant boy of the family.
Awestruck this most warlike little
fellow of five followed his father down
the broad flight of front steps, among
the yard beds and down the wide walk
to where the prisoner waited at the lit¬
tle gate. Just before the gate was
reached the boy could no longer curb
his curiosity, his desire to know all the
dreadful, but exciting truth, so he
reached up and pulled his father’s coat
to attract his attention: “Father!, fa¬
ther!” he whispered, “are you going to
put the coals on now ? Are you going
to put the tire on his head right now f’
Great, doubtless, must have been the
relief experienced by the boy when lie
found that the translation of this Bib¬
lical phrase into fact permitted the
bringing in of the prisoner to a warm
and comfortable room, and that there
he was allowed to sit before a bright
fire, to reach the soles of his feet to the
blazes thereof, instead of having the
coals of the same applied to his head.
I cannot but fancy that the poor
German felt somewhat pleased with
his glimpse of home life in Dixie. Cer¬
tainly it was a pretty little dining room
into which he was carried, with its
bright flood of sunlight, its glint of
firelight, gleam of silver on the highly
polished tables, its dusky, shining faced
waiting boy—who, by the way, was
fearfully afraid to wait on the Yankee
as lie ate—and, better than all else, the
poor German, pining for a word in his
own tongue, was the talk in his own
language that he had with the doctor
and his daughter.
When the prisoner was fed and
warmed the question arose as to how
he was to be “moved on” to the next
hamlet.
Every school in the land was at that
time something of a military establish¬
ment, so the company of Greene
Springs’ schoolboys was marched out
to be guard to the prisoner a little far¬
ther on his way. ^he roll of the drum
and the shrill note of the fife were
heard on the Hill of Science, The
beardless soldier boys took the lone
prisoner in charge, and to the stirring
tones of “The Bonnie Blue Flag" the
little army marched down the red hill,
through Five Mile Creek swamp and
over to Harristown.
There the captive was turned ov£r
to the Home Guard of that hamlet, and
tlie boys marched back to their lecture
rcH ‘“ IS -
i he doctor and the Greene Springs
home people knew that the prisoner
was well on his way toward Greens
borough, when they heard the boys
with their fresh clear young voices
strike into cheery song, as their march
riie homeward red old brought hill that them carried to as the its foot crown of
one °f *he sweetest homes the world
b as ev ^ r held. The song that the boys
sa ug was one that stirred their young
hearts-up to a desire for real marching
to real battle:
Oh, here I am in the land of cotton.
The flag onee honored is now forgotten;
Fight away, fight away, fight away for
Dixie's land.
But here I stand for Dixie dear
To fight for freedom without fear;
Fight away, fight away, fight away for
Dixie’s land.
For Dixie’s land I’ll take my stand.
To live and die for Dixie’s land,
Fight away, fight away, fight away foi
Dixie’s land.
The stars and bars are waving oe’r us.
And independence is before *G;
Fight away, fight aiva;, fight away for
Dixie’s land.
Soon enough these boys, and all
other boys able to carry guns, were or¬
dered to the front along with the old
men. It was not long after this that
the doctor and his second son, a lad of
fourteen years, were on their way to
make part of the hastily summoned re¬
enforcement of the shattered Confed
erate forces, But ere these last called
troops could with all haste reach the
thunder sound of cannon and the heavy
rain of bullets the news came that the
great General Robert E. Lee had sur¬
rendered, and the war was over.—
Martha Young in New Orleans Times
Deinocrat.
Am Early Bird.
First Dude—I’m going to Washing¬
ton tomorrow'.
Second Dude—What train are you
going to take ?
First Dude—I am going to take the
early train that leaves at 7 o’clock
in the morning, doncher know.
Second Dude—I’d like to see you off,
old chappie, but that’s too early, yer
know. All sensible people are in bed
by 7 in the morning, yer see.—Texas
Siftings.
Here’s a Wi e Barber.
There is a barber down town who
deserves well of humanity. After
spreading around the candidate for a
hair cut an apron and towel, he tucks
down in his neck a narrow roll of cot¬
ton. This catches and holds all the
flying bits of hair that erstwhile worked
(heir way down a man’s back, and
when the hair cut is completed this is
thrown into the waste basket.
This may appear a small matter, but
it means much to the man in the chair.
—New York Herald.
Important to Smoke™.
“You ain’t a-gwine to give ten cents
for that cigar, are you ?”
“I believe I will, Sally,” said he.
“Jest to burn up?’ said she.
“That’s wiiat hit is made for, Sally,”
said he.
“Well,” said she, “I'd look at a dime
a long time before IYi give it tor that
thing and then b.%rn it right straight
up. If I was gwine Pi be a fool I'd be
a fool some other way.”—Texas Sift¬
ings.
How Pineapples Grow.
The pineapple, which isn’t a fruit,
strictly speaking, grows upon the upper
part of a stem which rises two or three
feet high from the center of a cluster of
leaves growing close to the ground.
The upper part of this stem becomes
covered with the flowers of the otant,
the flower cluster becomes enlarged, ’ts
parte uniting and forming the
apple.”—St. Paul Pameer-Press.
Children Cry for Pitcher’s Castoria.
Consumption Cured
An old physician, retired from practice,
having had placed in his hands by an
Ea-t India missionary the formula of a
simple vegetable remedy for the speedy
and permanent cure of Consumption,
Bronchitis, Cata>rh, Asthma and alt
throat and Lnug Affections, also a posi¬
tive and radical cure for Nervous Debi
lity and all Nervous Complaints, after
having tested its wonderful curative
I .owe s in thousands of cases, has fe’t it
his duty to make it know a to ids suite i
mr fellows. Actuated t.y this motive
and a desire to relieve human all suffering,
I will s nd free of charge, to whode
sire it this recipe, in German, French
> r E igiishi, using. with full Set ructions by mail for by pre- ad
taring ann with naming this
dressing Notes, stamp, 820 Powers’ Block, paper.
VV. A.
Rochester, N. Y to may 9 -’ 92 .
.
Is ,
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