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Pages Prom My Scrap "Hook. VTxxxM XixuxXXl W zxOXXXXN U X Vxi AIMI/ XUAXvX XxxxXxLiXXM. in February, X/ao, Colonel George Washington, accompanied by two aides-de-camp, left ins residence at Mount Vernon, on horseback on a joftxney to Boston, to confer with uenerai Shirley concerning some mili tary'matters. On reaching .New York, he called at the house of Beverly liobinson, an old army friend, who had served with him under Braddock; Colonel Robinson wishing to make the visit pleasant to his guest, invited a few friends to add to the social attractions of his home. Among those invited was Mary Phillips, a sister of Mrs. Robinson. She was about eighteen years of age, bewitchingly beautiful, with a form of rare grace and perfection, brilliant accomplish ments, and lively and vivacious dispo sition. She was likewise an heiress. I'he young Virginian Colonel, fresh from the rural society of Mount Ver non, and the toils of the backwoods campaign, immediately charmed by this vision of loveliness and gay ety. Turning away from every other attraction, he spent much of his time in her society; and the walks, talks, and rides in which they indulged, brought upon them the raillery of his associates. In this way the few days that Washington intended to remain passed, but still he lingered, chained by the magic spell of the fair charm er. It was the lirst time in the his tory of his mature life that the sly Cupid had hurled his dart at the young Colonel, and the arrow had sunk deep into his'heart. Days went by almost unnoticed, until a week had been wasted in these enjoyments, and the infatuated man was forced to tear himself away and proceed to Boston. They parted with an en gagement on his return, and it. is hardly necessary to say that he was true to the promise. Nearly another week was now passed under the hos pitable roof of his old friend, and the society of his charming relative. But the urgency of military engage ments forced his return to Virginia, and George Washington and Mary Phillips parted with mutual regrets, to meet no more for nearly a quarter of a century, when one was the great leader of the patriot armies, and the other the wife of a colonel fighting his own countrymen in the service of the king. CLAVERING’S INTRODUCTION TO BURNS. It was about the year 1795 that I made a tour to Scotland, with the sole hope of seeing Burns. I was suc cessful. On my arival at Edinburg, where I had some literary acquaint ance, I obtained a letter of intro duction to him. I had always been a great admirer of his genius, and of many traits in his character; and I was aware that he was a person moody, and somewhat difficult to deal with. I was resolved to keep in full consideration the irritability of his position in society. About a mile from his residence, on a bench, under a tree, I passed a figure, whiph, from the engraved portraits of him, I did not doubt was the poet; but I did not venture to address him. On ar riving at his humble cottage, Mrs. ximus opcntu taio uovi. One was tne plain sori 01 a num Die woman sue nau oeen described; she usuereu me into a neat apartment, ana said sue would send tor Burns, who was gone tor a waui. une ox me cmidren ran tor him —lie was used to sucn visits, xn about halt an hour ue came, and my conjecture proved right; he was the person 1 had seen on the bench by me roadside. At first, 1 was not en tirely pleased with his countenance; it was not only dark, and somewhat coarse and vulgar, but did not look good-tempered. I thought it had a Kind of capricious jealousy, as it he had a mind to treat me as an in truder. I resolved to bear it, and try if 1 could humor him. I let him choose his turn of conversation, but said a few words about the friend whose letter I had brought to him. It was now about four in the after noon of an autumn day. While we were talking, Mrs. Burns, as if ac customed to entertain visitors in this way, brought in a bowl of Scotch whisky, set the table, and laid on pipes and tobacco. I heartily ac cepted this hospitality. I could not help observing the curious glance with which he watched me, at the entrance of this signal of homely en tertainment. He was satisfied. He filled our glasses. “Here’s a health to auld Caledonia! ’ ’ The fire spark led in his eye, and mine sympathetic ally met his. He shook my hand with warmth, and we were friends at once. Then he drank, “Erin for ever!” and the tear of delight burst from his eye. LOVE SEEKS AN OBJECT. Regarded as a sentiment, love is possible in respect to principles, but, regarded as a passion, it is possible only touching a person. No one dies for abstract truth. Idealize it, con nect it with something tangible, and man will die for it —not before. Even then his self-sacrifice is impelled by regard, necessity, or the force of col lateral circumstances. A patriot does not lay down his life for liberty in the front rank of battle with the same feeling which fills the bosom of a frontiersman when he dies fighting at the door of his cabin in a heroic at tempt to defend his wife and children from murderous savages. We admire beauty; we revere virtue; we praise modesty as elements of a character, but never until these are embodied; until the eyes behold them in a physi cal form, never until the woman who, we believe, represents these qualities, stands before us, do we love them. The qualities we admire, the woman we love. Here, at this point, you see how love educates one in worthy directions. The man loves the wo man, the woman the man, and each the qualities that the other repre sents. Each educates the other into a finer appreciation, a truer regard, a higher emulation of the virtues each embodies, and thus, as Tennyson sings: ‘‘They grew together, Dwarfed or Godlike, bond or free.” Amid all the scurrying around these days to prevent exposure the North pole betrays no alarm that it will be discovered. —Chicago Post. WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN. XX Vxa X XJXuZi.x't XX.XjXjO BX XlXlXl. > XxOOx x l| iHk'ull. X->vUi Mix • A All AOUU ux Mcpucxuoex- xom an uxucxe ueuucu, “uenexai nee xxxter me Wax," oy luaigaret J. Breston, in wxiicn sue gives an illustration ox Uie tenuer ueaxt ox tue great soldier, m me xoi luvvmg words: “At one ox the lirst commencements, 1 tniuk the very nrst, at wnicn General Bee presided alter he became president ol the col lege, the hall was filled wnfi an im mense crowd, to whom he was the central object oX interest. During tue progress ol the speech a little boy xour years old became separated Irom. his parents and went wandering up one of the aisles in frightened search of them. The General noticed the child’s confusion, and gaining his eye, he beckoned him to come to him on the platform, where he sat sur rounded by brilliant officers of the late Confederacy. He instantly made his way to the feet of the General, sat down there and leaned his head against his knee, looking up into his face with the utmost trust, appar ently thoroughly comforted. Thus resting he fell'asleep with his pro tector’s arm around him, and when the time came for the General to take part in the prescribed ceremony we who were looking on were touched in no little degree as we saw him care fully rise from his seat and adjust the little head softly upon the sofa, so as not to waken the confiding lit tle sleeper,” etc. The confidence and trustfulness of that little child comes nearer repre senting the sentiments of the army towards General Lee than anything I have ever read. His men idolized him, and like the immortal Jackson, would have followed him blind fold ed anywhere, as long as “Marse Robert” was in command. He was as brave as a lion and as gentle as a little child, but when aroused there was nothing pleasant in coming in contact with him; and in that line I wish to narrate a circumstance that happened to me at the battle of Sharpsburg, Md. General Lee took command of the army of Northern Virginia on the morning of the first day of June, 1862, after General J. E. Johnston had been desperately wounded at Sev en Pines and carried from the field. I was an active participant, or lis tening to the music of the guns at Mechanisville, Coal Harbor, Gaines’ Mill, Nine Mile Road, Peach Orchard, Savage Station, Frarie’s Farm, Mal vern Hill, Rappahannock, Thorough fare Gap, Second Manassas, Ox Hill. South Mountain, Sharpsburg and Fredericksburg. During that time 1 had the honor of commanding one gun, and that carried on my shoul der, while General Lee defeated the army of the Potomac under Pope at Manassas and fought a drawn bat tle with the army of the Potomac un der McClellan at Sharpsburg, and de feated the army of the Potomac un der Bumside at Fredericksburg. The first time I ever saw General Lee was on the sth day of August. 3862. McClellan, after his defeat around Richmond, retreated down the James river to Harrison’s Landing, where he bottled his army up in the Horse Shoe Bend. On the sth of Au gust he recaptured Malvern Hill, there being only a small force of Con- federates to defend it. While Long sheet’s corps was marching rapidly for the Hill we halted and dropped down by the roadside store to rest. While resting, a troop of horsemen, passed going to the front. Riding at. the head of the troopers were Presi dent Davis and General Lee, the sec retary of war and General Long street, then several major generals with their cavalry escorts bringing up the rear. There was not so much as a whisper among the soldiers, every one seemed intent on hearing what they were talking about. Every eye was on General Lee, and well they might, for he had the grandest and most commanding appearance of any one I have ever seen, and was the the most graceful rider I ever saw mounted upon a horse. He must have been something over six feet in height, weighing between 160 and 170 pounds, with an erect military fig top boots and black felt hat. The collar of his coat was turned down, showing his white shirt and black necktie. He were a heavy, closely trimmed beard and moustache, and his eyes were black and as piercing as those of an eagle. He was mount ed on Traveler, his famous battle horse, who shared with his famous rider the love and admiration of the soldiers. He was a very dark iron gray, tall and well proportioned, with a beautiful head and neck, stepping as though he disdained the ground he walked on. But I am getting as far from my subject as the straggler told the captain he was from his command. One day while the army was on the march, a chaplain of some regiment jovertook a soldier strag gling on the road, and said to him: “My friend, what command do you belong to?” “General Blank’s,” replied the straggler. “What command do you belong to?” “To the army of the Lord,” re plied the chaplain. “Well, my friend,” replied the straggler, “you are a d long ways from your command.” The battle of Sharpsburg, Md., on the 17th of September, 1862, was said to be the bloodiest of the Civil War. There 33,000 Confederates under our immortal leaders Lee and Jackson, defeated 87,000 Feder als. Sixty thousand were engaged on the field, with 27,000 held in re serve, ready at a moment’s notice. The battle opened at daylight and lasted until the friendly shades of night hid that field from view. Then, as if by mutual consent, the two ar mies fell apart and dropped down to rest, with the Confederates in possession of the battle field. The loss in the two armies amounted to 25,000 men, about equally divided. The Confederates lost 12,500, with 8,000 lying helpless on that bloody field. On the morning after the bat tle. General Anderson’s brigade was near the northeast corner of the town. Feeling thirsty, I went to a pump in front.of the town after a canteen of water, and when returning discover ed an apple orchard on the corner lot, with the trees and ground cov ered with delicious fruit. That was Thursday morning, and I had not had, with the exception of a few apples the evening before, anything to eat since Sunday. Hungry was no (Continued on. Page Eleven.) PAGE THREE