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KENNESAW’S BOMBARDMENT.
{Continued from page 3.)
And now again the enthusiastic “rebel yell”
arose above the mountain top. This was echoed
back from the hills below by the cheering of the
Federal soldiery, and thousands of them could be
heard joining the general shout which was sent
to meet the defiant yells of the Confederates on
the mountain. Then from Walker’s Confederate
division on the south a prolonged yell sprang forth
which ran down the hill till it was taken up by
Bate’s men in gray. Onward and onward it rolled
its wild billows of sound until “taint from farther
distance borne,” it died away in a short, sharp
whoop from Cleburne’s heroes.
For several minutes this continued on the sum
mit, until Captain Ward began really to get appre
hensive that some of the Yankee gunners might
open fire again, in order to make the scene livelier
in other respects than that oi sound. But his fears
were groundless, for they as well as the Confeder
ates seemed to have concluded that there might be
a truce for awhile between the cannon.
But after the vociferous uproar had subsided,
suddenly the band on the summit of the mountain
began playing, “Home, sweet home!” and, what a
wonderful change ensued from the noisy demonstra
tion which had followed the playing of the military
airs!
An impressive calm seemed to settle over the
entire mountain and forests below. The change
was so sudden, and all the surroundings made it so
touching that Miss Harper found tears gushing
from her eyes.
“Oh, Captain Ward,” she exclaimed, “you must
pardon me; but how I do wish that this war was
over, and that all of our dear boys were again
around their firesides at their own sweet homes!
Oh! w 7 ould that I could look down the vista of
years to the time when the bells of mercy shall toll
the knell of departed wrath! ”
“Beautiful words, well said! I cannot blame a
lady for her tears when I find one dropping from
my own eye,” exclaimed Captain Ward. “Ah!
when this war is over, may there be less woe amid
the homes in the south and the north than I have
sometimes considered there would be.”
Jack came forward and took his sister’s hand,
and whispered, “Sis, just look and see how those
soldiers are crying. I didn’t think they would be
so sorry to hear ‘Home, sweet home!’ played.
I like to hear it. I think it’s a pretty tune.”
There was deep silence everywhere, except the
soft, sweet music from the band; and when this
ended, there followed for a few seconds a stillness
as of death; and then, from far down among the
Federal works was faintly heard the shout:
“When this cruel war is over,
Then we’ll all come home again.”
From thousands of throats it seemed to rise, and
then from the Confederate ranks amid the cloud
swept crags was sent forth the good-humored
refrain:
“Yes, we’ll all come home again!”
Minon now remarked, “Well, Miss Harper, and
Captain Ward, I think we had better go before
it gets too dark.”
“That’s so,” said Miss Harper, “let us go at once.”
The party then, under Captain Ward’s leadership,
walked along the crest until they reached the slope
leading down into the ravine, and there began the
descent.
They passed among the files of soldiers who were
cooking their supper, or sitting down in groups
among the crags, laughing and talking.
Major Storrs was among these, helping Pat
Quinn to broil some ham. The major, when off
duty, was always one of the boys, consequently he
THE* KENNESAW GAZETTE.
made a personal friend of each of them. Seeing
the young lady, he immediately came forward and
shook hands with her, saying, “I was just starting
a few minutes ago to hunt you up when I was
informed that Captain Ward was with you; and as
there is no one more competent than he to give you
every attention I remained back in the ranks, but
permit me now to express my most hearty con
gratulations that you passed safely through what
was really quite an ordeal to veteran soldiers.
I hope I shall meet you again, but I should hardly
wish it wore here.”
All the others saluted the party with the cour
tesy, which is innate with the men of the South;
and Miss Harper voiced her heart’s sentiments
when she said in an undertone to Captain Ward,
“Oh! our Southern soldiers are gentlemen, as well
heroes. God bless them!”
Down, down the steep sides of Kennesaw they
wended their way, until at length, just as darkness
was beginning to make the trail somewhat d.fficult
to follow, they reached the level ground at the base.
Here they found several ambulances which had
been sent to use in carrying the wounded to Mari
etta.
Captain Ward put the party into one of these,
and then exclaimed:
“Ah! I hear the tattoo just beating on the moun
tain top. Farewell, Miss Harper, I trust that we
may meet again under much more agreeable con
ditions. God bless you for your presence to-day!
Good bye, Jack, my dear boy, you are a hero
already; live for your country and j for God!
Minon, I will see to it that you have a furlough
for at least two months. Go ahead to Marietta,
driver!” and then, after a courteous wave of the
hand, he turned and sought the way up the moun.
tain again.
The clatter of the wheels of the ambulance
enlivened the evening air, and within about a half
hour’s time the party had arrived at Miss Harper’s
aunt’s house.
And what need be added here? The reader can
guess the sequel. After the cruel war was over
a noble husband and a beautiful and sweet bride —
not unheard of by us —received the congratulations
of scores of friends.
Among the decorations of the church were fern
leaves gathered from the sides of Kennesaw Moun
tain.
(7b be continued.')
Orange Syrup.
Orange syrup is so easily made and so convenient
to have on hand for various uses, that it is strange
more housekeepers do not make it, especially in the
season when oranges are plentiful and cheap. Ripe
and thin skinned fruit is the best for the purpose.
Squeeze the juice through a sieve and to every pint
add a pound and a halt of powdered sugar with a
little of the grated orange peel and the juice of one
lemon. Boil the syrup for fifteen minutes, and
skim as long as any scum rises. If it does not look
clear when taken off, strain it. Next bottle and
seal up tight, and it will keep for a long time.
Two tablespoonfuls of the syrup mixed with a quar
ter of a pound of creamed butter makes a nice
sauce for pudding, or a pleasant flavor for custards
and ices. Mixed with cold water and ice it makes
a delicious drink and can be safely given to invalids.
A Doctor’s “Don’ts.”
Don’t read in omnibuses or othei jolting vehicles.
Don’t pick the teeth with pins or any other hard
substance. Don’t neglect an opportunity to ensure
a variety of food. Don’t eat and drink hot and
cold things immediately in succession. Don’t pam
per the appetite with such variety of food as may
lead to excess. Don’t read, write, or do any deli
cate work unless receiving the light from the left
side. Don’t keep the parlor dark unless you value
your carpet more than your children’s health and
your own. Don’t endeavor to rest the mind by
absolute inactivity; let it seek its rest in other chan
nels, and thus rest the tired part of the brain.
An Old Lady Taking Notes.
The Streams She Crossed on the Western & Atlantic R. R.
“Now, Mr. Conductor,” said a snappish looking
old lady as she boarded the Pullman car at Dalton,
“I want you to tell me the names of all the places
of interest we pass on the way to Chattanooga, for
this, I believe, is the road along which Sherman
marched.”
“Yesm’m,” replied the palace car conductor, as
he cast his eyes at two pretty girls with the old lady.
“Jane,” said the old lady to one of the girls,
“you get a piece of paper’ now and take down the
names the gentleman tells you.”
“Yes, ma,” replied the girl with a smile that
made the conductor’s heart ache.
“What stream is that?” asked the old lady, as
the train passed over a trestle.
“That is the Chickamauga,” replied the conductor.
“Take that down, Jane.”
A half mile further another stream was crossed.
“What stream is that? ” again asked the old lady.
“Chickamauga,” replied the conductor.
“Take that down, Jane.”
“What stream is that ? ” interrogated the old lady.
“Chickamauga.”
The old lady began to look suspicious, but said:
“Take that down, Jane.”
“What stream is that yonder, running into those
woods; now we are crossing it ?
“Chickamauga.”
“Take that down, Jane.”
An ominous silence followed until the same
stream had been crossed four additional times.
Another stream was seen babbling over the rocky
bed.
With a timid glance at the yellow waters the old
lady asked:
“And what creek is this?”
“Chickamauga,” came the reply in a despairing
tone, and the girls looked like they could bite the
conductor’s head off’as the old lady said snappishly :
“Take that down, Jane.”
Another was crossed, but the old lady said
nothing. Still another was crossed, and she asked :
“And that stream is what?”
“Chickamauga.”
“Take that down, Jane,” was heard in an almost
inaudible voice.
Two more streams were crossed, but the old lady
was silent.
Suddenly her face brightened with new hope as
the train pulled up at a little station.
“What place is this?” she asked, confidently.
“Chickamauga ! ” came the monotonous reply.
“Jane, throw that paper out of the window.
That horrid”
“Hold on, madam! ” exclaimed the conductor;
and to save his scalp, he had to explain that the
Western & Atltantic Railroad crosses the Chicka
mauga thirteen times before reaching the station by
the same name.
It took the old lady some minutes to recover her
spirits, but she did after a while, and the smile and
the sweet words she and her daughters gave the
conductor on leaving him in Chattanooga cheered
him for many miles along his way. — Atlanta Journal.
Life insurance ageut —“Come, can’t I place some
insurance on your life? Were all liable to die
at any moment, you know.”
Atlanta citizen (who has bad three other agents
in to see him since reaching his office) —“That’s so.
Life is uncertain, and it is especially so with me.
My physician says I am liable to drop off at any
moment with heart disease. He gives me only a
couple of months to live.”
Life insurance agent—“Oh ! Excuse me. There
is no need of pursuing the subject further. Sorry
to have troubled you. Good morning.”
Atlanta citizen —“By Jove ! That idea of mine
works like a charm.”
A very busy Atlanta banker was to be married
to a Chattanooga girl, and the day fixed was April 4,
at high noon. The day came, but the groom did
not materialize, and at 9 a. m. this telegram was
received:
“For heaven’s sake tell us what is the matter,
this is your wedding day ; the hour approaches.”
He was scared half out of his wits, and rushing
to the telegraph office sent this answer:
“Thought I had three days of grace. Don’t let
it go to protest. Coming on the next W. & A.
tram.”
The wedding was a little late, but it was a merry
one, and all was forgiven.
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