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Southern Field and Fireside. VOL. 1. [For the Southern Field and Fireside.] ft TO THE SISTER OF MY BOYHOOD’S FRIEND. BY W. (iII.MORF. SIMMS. <4 Sweet lady, In the name of ope no more, Both of u» loved and neither shall forget, \ Make me thy brother, tho' our hearts tiefore, p Perchance, have never in communion met; Give me thy gentle memories, though there be, P Betwixt our forms, some thousand miles of sea, I. Wild tract and tangled forest; —let me still, What e’er the joy that cheers me, or the thrill '( That tortures, and from which I may not flee, j Hold a sweet, sacred place within thy breast! In this, my spirit shall be more than blest; And, in my prayers—if haply prayer of mine, m fie not a wrong unto a soul like thine— ' There shall be blessings from the skies for thee! j October, 1532. |> [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] d Entered according to the Act of Congress, <fr., dtc. by the Author. I MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN; f OR, £ A YOUTH OF BRILLIANT TALENTS, j> WHO WAS KUINED BY BAD LUCK. f BY THE AUTHOR OF THE GEORGIA SCENES, ETC. L The Captain had no difficulty in finding the " road to Parson Smith’s, but ho had great difticul » • ty in solving a mystery which presented itself to him as soon as he reached it. As the road ft was but little traveled, the tracks of the cart j wheels and of old Bald remained entirely unob literated. They proved to be the same that he f had caught glimpses of on the way, and suppos ed to be Tom’s tracing; but while they showed V plainly that he had gone to the Parson’s, there v was no sign that he had returned to the direct , road from the Parson’s. This perplexed him seriously, and made him wonder whether Tom ft had not gone to a camp-meeting with the Par j' son. There was no alternative, so he deterrain ' ed to go to the Parson’s even at the hazard of f getting a more serious lecture from him than he had already received from oue of his Hock. He V soon reached the house, and saw a lady standing . in the door. He called to her to know “whether , Parson John Smith liked there ?” The lady looked at him intently, but gave him no answer, ft He repeated the question, but still received no A response. “Why what upon earth does the wo man mean?” muttered he. “If there was a fa d tal disease on this earth called 'The Woman,' I should die of it, to a dead certainty.” At length V the kind woman broke silence: p “Light and come in, and warm yourself?” “No, I thank you, madam, I am not cold, and am in a great hurry. Did a negro man stop here ft with a cart and a blaze-faced horse, yesterday ?” The lady made no answer, but advanced slow ly towards him. Coming near the chaise she d said: “You’ll have to speak a little loud tome; I’m a little hard of hearing.” \ “Is this Parson Smith’s ?” asked the Captain * in a pretty loud tone. “Yes, sir.” A j Where is he?” ft “He’s at the pig-pen, sp ’tending to his A Pigs.” I “Did a negro man and a blaze-faced horse d stop here yesterday ?” “You’ll have to speak a little loud to me; I’m \ a little hard of hearing.” p The Captain repeated the question louder. “I think he did.” “Which way did he go?” ft “Sir?” a “Which-way-did-the-negro-boy-go ?” bawled i the Captain to the top of his voice. d “Well, I’m not so deaf as all that comes to—l ’ think he went round the lot there.” \ The Captain wheeled oft’, soon struck the P trail, and “opened on it” loudly. At the true John Smith’s, he learned the his f* tory of Tom for the preceding night. Smith ft told him that he had given Tom such directions * as would carry him on his way through Wash ? ington. d The Captain pushed on through the village, sti uck the trail on the Petersburg road, followed \ it for two miles, and stopped for the night at P Mr. Brown’s. Brown told him that Tom had passed there early on the preceding morning, and that this was all the information he could ft give of him, except that he seemed to be getting along very well. A little after night-fall anoth er gentleman stopped at Brown’s, whom the d landlord greeted with all the cordiality of inti mate friendship under the name of Col. White. \ “Here’s a man,” said Brown, ‘Vho can probably P tell you something about your boy; he lives right-on the road about five miles this side of Petersburg. A boy, “continued Brown to White, ft “in a cart, with a balled-sorrell in it” a “Oh yes,” said White, “he stopped at my house and enquired for 'the Hobat,' but I un rderstood him and put him in the road to Reho both." x \ At Col. White’s, Tom was much nearer to P Doctor Waddel’s than he was to “the Hobat;” j JAYIES GARDNER, I I Proprietor. J AUGUSTA. GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1859. but he had promised “to go like a streak of lightning,” and he was verifying his pledge. As his game had "doubled,” the Captain de termined to quit the trail and push directly for Rehoboth. By this movement he had gained greatly upon Tom; but not enough to overtake him that day. Wo will not detain the reader with further particulars of the chase; suffice it to say that about two hours by sun on the third day, in a rugged by-way, about two hundred yards from the highway leading from Augusta to Barkesdale’s Ferry, and about three miles from the ferry, he came up with Tom under very interesting circumstances. On a washed hill side, Tom, as a classic reader is reported to have said,“in trying to avoid Skilly he had rushed upon Caribogus”—or (leaving the classics) in trying to avoid a deep gully on the one hand, he had run over a log on the other; and though he did not quite upset his cart, he tilted it far enough to pour out both boxes into the gully. The top of one of the boxes was so far opened by the fall that it discharged four biscuit and was two crackers in the gully. The top of the other burst entirely off, and the tumblers of preserves were broken, having delivered a part of their contents to the top of the box, part to the pack age, part to the road, and having retained a part. As the buscuit and crackers were too dirty to tie replaced, as the jelly and jam were irretriev ably lost to William, and as Tom, from fatigue and long fa-ning, was very hungry, he rightly conceived that he could make no better use of them, than to eat them. As well as he could with a biscuit, he cleaned the package, then the board, (which happened to rest bottom upward) then skimmed the top oft’ what was on the ground, and topped oft’ with what was left in the tumblers. As ho did not observe the rule of proportion in eating, his buiscuit and crackers gave out before he had dispatched the last tum bler, and he was just wiping it out with his fore finger, and sucking it, when the Captain came up with him. “Lor gor’a’mighty, Mas David!” exclaimed Tom as the Captain approached him, “I never was so glad to see any body in all my born days. These people bout here been’ foolin’ me all day long ” “How did you get here, you woolly-headed scoundrel ?” “One man tole me L’d save three mile by cornin’ this way.” As the captain got to saying bad words again early in the interview, notwithstanding the lec ture he had received, and as what farther passed between him and Tom was of little interest, we omit it. As they were now but about six miles from Willington, the Captain very reluctantly concluded to pilot Tom himself for the remain der of the way. The idea of appearing at WL lington, with a cart load of provisions for his nephew, was very annoying; but the thought of lugging them all the way home again, and dis appointing his sister, was still more annoying; so he chose the least painful alternative. Things were righted, and the two set out for the ferry. They reached it and found a wagon waiting the return of the flat from the South Carolina side. His heart leaped at this good fortune, for he knew that the wagon could hard ly cross without going through Willington. He was not disappointed. The wagoner lived but five miles from Willington, was going through it, and knew everybody who lived within six miles of it. The Captain took his name, placed the boxes and Mrs. Mitten’s letter in his charge, offered to pay freight, but the wagoner would receive nothing, placed Tom’s unexpended cash (seven dollars) in his hands for William, dropped a line in pencil to Newby explaining things, and set his face homeward rejoicing. Nothing of interest occurred on the way back. The Cap tain’s good fortune prepared him for receiving Tom’s account of his adventures which were wonderful indeed, and which Tom never got done recounting during his life. The moral of it, as drawn by himself, may perchance boos service to the reader: “If I had forty thousand niggers, I’d never sen’one so far from home by he’self ’less he know de road firs’ chop.” The Captain reached home early on the fifth day from his departure. He gave the particu lars of his trip to his wife and sister by snatches, as he happened to lie in the humor, until they were all told. The fate of the jelly and jam was very provoking to Mrs. Mitten who was “sure if she had been there, she could have saved some of it.” The Captain was too busy to visit the public square for more than a week after his return; and his visits were very brief for more than a fortnight. But Tom became for a long while a distinguished character on the square. CHAPTER XV. Things get along smoothly—Master Mitten im proves wonderfully in a manner unlooked so Captain Thomps>m and his sister attend the public Examination of Dr. Waddel's School — Both delighted. The incidents of the last chapter were, upon the whole, fortunate. They cured Mrs. Mitten of sending delicacies to her son, cured W illiam of his complaints for many months, improved his style when speak.ng of his Preceptor, brought him out in suitable apparel for his place and as sociates, and sprung all the energies of his mother to reconcile herself to his lot. When so much is said, the reader need not be told that Captain Thompson was also a great gainer by them. Things now went on more smoothly than they had for years. William soon stood a head and shoulders above any member of his class. The Georgians began to brag on him, the Caroli nians to emulate him. He began to mingle in the active sports of his fellows, to be cheerful, if not forward, in sharing his part in providing fuel and making fires. His new clothes, to be sure, did not quite reach him before he “blossom ed,” for he kept the changes of his first supply as long out of sight as possible; but he was far from being in full bloom when “the fruits of home industry” reached him. Immediately upon their arrival, he appeared in the handy work of Mrs. Thurlow and Mrs. Figgs, and Brace’s lips were closed to all further sarcasm upon hiS dress. In short, he followed his uncle’s advice as well as he could, and forthwith began to experience the practical benefits of it. His new clothes “scratched him mightily at first, but he had got used to them,” ns he wrote to his mother; but he thanked her for them. The change in his dress was not much more remark able than the change in his physical constitu tion. From a weakly, puny, cowering, retiring, say nothing boy, he became a muscular, active, sprightly, vigorous youth, who was nearly a match for any of his age, in running, jumping, wrestling, and the active sports of the school; and for loud clamoring, at bull-pen, and town ball, he had no superior. There was but one South Carolinian in the school who could throw him down, and that one was Andrew Govnu ; there was not one in the school who could match him in running. From fifty lips the exclamation would come : “Did you ever see a lellow come out of the kinks as Bill Mitten has ?” By the time it came to his turn to make fires in the Academy, (one of the duties of every student) he was as prompt and skilful in this work as most of his associates. Sweeping out the Acad emy (another duty) of course was easy. Be yond all this, there was nothing remarkable in his history until the annual examination and ex hibition came on. These exercises continued for several days and they were attended by multitudes —more, by many, than usually attend our College Commencements in these days. The order was as follows : First, the examination of all the classes ; which was invariably conduct ed by the visitors, except when they declined the task, and this rarely occurred. Then speak ing, for which prizes were awarded. And lastly, the performance of one or two dramatic pieces, usually a comedy or farce : but these were dis continued after the first and only public exhibi tion in which William Mitten took part, and the reading of compositions was substituted for them. The speakers were divided into three classes, ac cording to their age and advancement; the first class being composed generally of the oldest students in the school; the second, of those next in years ; and the third, of the youngest, excluding those in the elementary studies. This arrangement was not always observed, however. Sometimes the larger and less advanced were put in the first class, and the smaller and more advanced, in the second class. William’s age Hung him into the lowest, though his advance ment would have entitled him to a place in the second. The examination approached, and Wil liam wrote pressingly to his mother and uncle to attend. They did so, and reached Newby’s the day before the exercises commenced. Wil liam recognized them at the fence, and ran out to meet them. Neither of them knew him, till he greeted them, any more than if they had never seen him. His fine face was there, a lit tle tanned, but that was all of William Mitten that was left. He had grown like a weed, and develo|ied as we have said. The Captain looked at him in triumph —the mother in tears. Mr. Newby was soon at the chaise and introduced to Mrs. M. Five or six ladies were standing at his door, observing the new comers. “I fear, Mr. Newby,” said Captain Thompson, “that you will not be able to accommodate us.” “Oh, very easy, if you can rough It a little for a few days.” “Why’ where will you put us ? Your house seems full already.” “Oh, we’ve plenty of houses, as you see.” “But those are the students’ houses; what are you going to do with them ?’’ “Oh, we cotton them upon such occasions as this if necessary.” “ Cotton them ?” “Yes ; put ’em all in one hole and ram them tight together. However, I don't think that will be necessary. We’ve two large rooms in the house, in one of which we will put the la dies. and in the other the gentlemen.” “Well, that will answer very well,” said the Captain. “Do you take charge of Mrs. Mitten, and William and Tom and I will attend to the horses and baggage.” “Why, this is a new horse, Tom,” said Wil liam, as he sprung to unsaddle a horse which Tom had led up. “Whose is he ?” “He’s Mas David’s. He say if you do well while lie’s up here, he gwiue to give him to you. He’s a tip top hos.” “Well, I’ve got him safe,’’ said Bill. “What’s his name ?” “He name Snap Dragjum.'\ (Snap Dragon.) “Here, Tom,” said the Captain, “take this trunk in the house ” “I'll take it, Uncle,” said William. “You can’t carry it, my son; it’s pretty heavy.” “Let me try it,” said Bill; so saying, he Hung it on his shoulder, and inarched off with it, with perfect ease. “Look ya-a-nder!” exclaimed Tom, as he mov ed off. “Bless de Lor,’ Mas’ William done got a man ’ready.” The Captain saw him near the door with his burden without a totter, then turned, wiped his eyes twice, and was just blowing his nose the third time, when William leaped the fence, to assist Tom in leading the horses to the horse lot. “Why, Bill,” said the Captain, “I never saw a boy improve as you have in all my life.” The ladies gathered at Mr. Newby’s were all of the first respectability. They soon made Mrs. Mitten easy, and before they parted, several of them and Mrs. Mitten promised to interchange visits most certainly “if ever they came our way.” (They never came our way.) The night shut in and the woods were vocal in all directions with rehearsals of speeches and parts of plays. A very comfortable supper was provided for the guests, (increased by several, after tho Captain’s arrival) the mattresses were spread, all laid down, the gentlemen talked till twelve, the ladies till two, and all was hush—save here unAtherc “the bubbling cry of some strong” snorer “in his agony.” They were all, of necessity, up betimes the next morning, when they declared generally that they had “had a most delightful night’s rest.” Thus passed a wonderful night for Mrs. Mitten. The next morning exhibited a complete meta morphosis of the students. It was easy now to distinguish the sons of the Patricians from those of the Plebs, though turkey-red and indi go-blue predominated largely over nankeen and gingham still. From seven o’clock till nine, people of all ranks, ages, sexes, and sizes, might be seen wending their way to the school house, or rather to the area in front of it—for the examination was conducted under the stately oaks of the campus. Some of the first men of the two States were there. At nine the examination commenced. The students, with very few ex ceptions, acquitted themselves admirably. In all the studies of his class, William distinguished himself. On this day an incident occurred which was absolutely luxurious to all who disliked Brace. The reader need hardly be told that however bright in wit or ingenious in teasing Brace might bo, he was not very bright in his studies. He was in one of the Virgil classes, and he had caught fn m a st dmt, given to spouting poetry aloud, whenever he had any in store to spout, the four first lines of Dryden’s translation of tho second book of the A£niad. Doctor John Casey was conducting tho examination, Hanked on his right and left with an imposing row of dignitaries. “Begin,” said the Doctor to Ned, who was at one extremo of the class in more senses than one, “at the second Book of the ACnaid, and read the Latin first.” __ Ned did so to the extent of six or eight lines. “Now translate. ” Ned proceeded: “All were attentive to the God-like man. When from his lofty couch he thus began.” A roar of laughter burst from every one— loudest from the boys; for two reasons, first, because they gloried in Brace’s mortification; and second, because they wished the company to understand from this token that they were thoroughly versed in the poetry of all languages under the sun. “Give us the' translation in prose if you please,” said the Doctor. Ned continued: “Great Queen, what you command me to relate, Reviews the sad remembrance of our fate.” The laugh was repeated, but the Doctor had no occasion to repeat his request; for Ned had exhausted his stock of poetry. His debut was doubly unfortunate ; for besides exposing him to ridicule, it left him wholly in the dark as to how much of the Latin his version had covered. So he began his literal translation two lines back of what he had already rendered; and Dryden would have been amazed to discover how be had butchered the Mantuan Bard, according to Brace’s translation. This day and the next were consumed in like manner. On the third day the speaking com menced. A stage of rough plank was erected adjoining the school-house. On this sat the Judges, of whom William H. Crawford, John C. Calhoun, and William W. Bibb were three. These hardly ever failed to attend the public exercises of Doc tor Waddel’s school. The two first had been his pupils, and the reader will excuse the di gression, to learn that the first wife of the Doc tor was the sister of the second. In front of the stage, large logs were laid par allel to each other on which planks were placed at convenient distances apart, for seats. The ( T%vo Dollars Per Annum, I | Always In Advance. j whole were covered over with a bush-arbor.— It was but a scant provision for the throng that attended upon this occasion ; but what provision could accommodate all, when the number fell little, if any, short of two thousand people ? The ladies, several hundreds in number, occupied all the seats. Without going through the details of the ex ercises, suffice it to say that Mitten took the pre mium in his class by the award of the judges, approved of by every man, woman and student present at the exhibition. He had a part in both the dramatic pieces; and here he acquitted himself, if possible, with more credit than in declamation. When Mr. Calhoun, with a few complimentary words, presented him the prize, the whole assembly applauded loudly and cor dially. One pretty little girl, beautifully dress ed, quite forgot herself, and kept on clapping after every body else had done, till her mother, laughing most heartily, stopped her. “Mitten, Mitten, Mitten 1” was on every lip. All the la dies, old and young, wanted to kiss him ; all the little girls fell in love with him. A thousand compliments saluted the ear of Mrs. Mitten from lips that she knew not Through Captain Thompson she had been made acquainted with Doctor Waddel before the exercises commenced, and through him, with most of the gentlemen who sat as judges,;and her acquaintance was still farther extended by the sojourners at Mr. New by’s ; but now everybody sought an introduction to her, and everybody congratulated her upon the performonee of her son. Most of the judges waited upon her, and all of them had something flattering to say of Wil liam, or to him in her presence, for he was al ways at her side. “Master Mitten,” said Mr. Crawford, “I am proud to claim you as a Georgian. Cultivate your brilliant talents as a duty and an honor to the State that gave you birth.” “Master Mitten,” said Mr. Calhoun, “the Uni ted States have an interest in you; and should , I live to see you in the prime of life, I shall be sorely disappointed if I do not see you the ad miration of them all.” As for Captain Thompson, he was in danger of going off by explosion. He had been filling up with joy, from the first sight of Bill, to the close of the exhibition; and now to find him so far surpassing his most sanguine expectations in every thing, to see him standing at the head of his classes in scholarship, and declamation, and ahead of the whole school in dramatic tal lent, to hear him applauded by all, and specially by Messrs. Crawford and Calhoun, and (though last not least,) to see bis sister almost in trans ports, was really perilous to the good Captain. He had tried to quench the volcano that was in him with rain; that is to say, he had cried six times, twice secretly, and four times publicly; but this gave him only momentary relief. Be sides, the fire kept kindling all the time, and he could not keep crying all the time. Whitherso ever he cast his eyes he saw something to in flame his ecstacy, and what would have been the consequence it were hard to tell, had not David Ramsay sauntered near him just at the critical moment —“Why, David my young pilot, how do you do?” said the Captain. “Come here, my son, and let me introduce you to Mrs. Mitten, my sister, mother of William. Anna, this is David Ramsay of whom you have heard me speak 1” “How do you do, Master Ramsay,” said Mrs. Mitten, smiling almost to a laugh. “I am very familiar with your name, for my brother could talk of no one else for some time after his return from his first visit to this place.” “I remember Captain Thompson very well; but I cannot call to mind anything that I said or d.d to make him remember me.” Here the Captain was a little at fault, but be soon rallied and replied: “It was your prompt courtesy to us as stran gers, David, the coincidence of our names, but most of all, your connections, who are known to all, that impressed you so permanently upon my memory. Ino sooner asked if Mr. At addel was at home than you answered in the affirmative, sprang to the door, invited me in, and brought Mr. Waddel out to see me. This was but com mon politeness, to be sure, but 1 did not see any of your playmates offer to do the same thing. But for your kindness I might have had to knock long at the door, and sit long in the cold parlor, before Mr. Waddel would liavo come to my re lief.” This interview was an admirable safety-valve to the Captain. It set his thoughts to running back to times and incidents, well calculated to relieve him from over-pressure of joy. The conversation with young Ramsay was but just ended, when Doctor Hay stepped up and greeted the Captain and his sister with a fervor which showed plainly that time had not abated his friendship for them in the least. The greeting waa returned with equal warmth. — The Doctor expressed his regret that he had been detained by professional business at home until the last day of the exhibition; but added, that he had been amply compensated for his trouble in coming, by the rich entertainment he had just enjoyed—“An entertainment, Mrs. Mit ten,” continued he, “to which your son was the largest contributor. I deem myself fortunate, NO. 14.