The Xenia sentinel. [volume], August 25, 1863, Image 1

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VOLUME I.
XENIA, TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 25, 1863.
NUMBER 1.
Original.
THE WAY TO CHURCH.
BY FORM S. POWERS.
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Ottt tit adds 5Dd TalrSes peea,
T!,MriMte woods (ad over the tCs,
TTcSer .fie tire and thiooeh tne lanes,
O'er te mnilc niarmn'lBg rills,
T-! ber oa hex wjy to tbe cburcb,
- Tr.pi Biiicea lovely and f'.ir,
Su.pt ie bow by the sueea. let's tide,
(ialirK'Lg Sowars Blooming there.
fisted the wood sad into the leli.
Pasted tba Jeld lad tnto be wood,
Biowly turning the winding war.
LttiKj in a taoaehllai mood,
ew In Tily apd by the tresis
Tbt w sweetly ripples along,
Bilging to birds ltd waring we
Her early Bibbath morning sg.
A bright-eyed yostn is tbepberd's drees
I turning low th winding way ;
.low stop to bt!l the echoes clear.
Aa tbey L.U torn tb nvadea's lay.
1 be la; if o'er, tie maiden aow
It g,zlr g la tbe silver stream,
Wblk: ardently tbe shepherd's boy
la vliltirlsg to atr love's yonrg dieatn.
Tbe noona j'e eun baa pueed and gone
Dawn tte bor!z?n of tte Wert,
Bu'. la T.l'ey and by tbe stream,
Tbe maid and youth are a till at rest.
' Tte Til age bell they bet; no mote,
OlI the tonga e( birds above,
As tbry aid In elccneiilEotes
' The youth to tell hit tale of love.
Original
Through Mists.
BY JENNIE CAULFIELD.
CHAPTER I.
A RETROSPECTION.
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V. ue&wji.r poor words can make my History
worthy of ycul f.t;rr.tive perusal or otherwise, I
ain not prepnied uj &ty; but if any one po&BeeB'
ing a tct lor Biography should place before you
the very words I am about to record, I have no
doubt that, painted in their glowing words, it
would be fraught with intei est. I do not uncover
my wounds to your view as an intercession tor
t nipathy or pity. I hate pity. Neither do I
sh to conjure up some retrospection of your
existence, whose remembrance will make vou
writhe with pain. 1 would rather take your
hand, call you "sister,' "brother," and assure
you there was and is a balm, and however the
intense wish and the strong desire to which we
have given expression in passionate prayer may
be wiuield, still a recompense isgiveu: blind
our poor human eyes as we may, it is there, and
we will know it in time .niortnl or immortal.
The earlitst recollections of my life are more
than partially obl'terated from my memory.
Not that I had little aflection tor it; but there
bus been a constant discord since, in whirh I
have lost even the echo of that sweet, low pre
lude which w aa not unlike the song my mother
used to sing hen she rocked me to sleep.
Looking back, I gee myself closing my baby
ees, and I am utterly powerless to check the
upii-ing w ish that I had died just then and there.
This is not entirely a selfish wish: that is, it
was not created in my own suffering, but in the
full unconsciousness of all she endured for b.t
sake; that I -never have hnd never can repav
her the waste of her previous lile. Also, th a X
might never have occasioned any human being
a moment's misery; that I might never have
wounded any fond heart, or cause a single tear
to full. God knows I never listened to a cry of
anguish without an intense desire to possess the
power to hasten the promised time when "God
himself shall wipe all tears from their eyes."
There are one or tuo instances, however, and
one ortwo objects of tint time, which are im
printed upon memory. It has puzzled me often
liikl, through all the vicissitudes of my life, I
have ever retained a vivid picture of that grand
old house where I was born. It is King off
there in the distance, with the golden sunshine
ilhn upon it and aslant the Linden poplars.
ever a source""of tiwitght to-my childish eyes,
and the indellible picture 1 keep ot this deu- j
old house is so connected with an incident ol
my childhood that one is seldom separated from
the other. ' : J
Ann, the colored girl who waited upon mo in j
the capacity of dressing niaid, a gay, witty, im
aginative being, was wont to delight my ever
willing ears with some original fiction, while dis
charging her light duty. Mo it chanced one eve
ning tliat she, having reached the acme of in
spiration, endowed her beroine-with some flying
facility I cannot say w ings, for they were not
mentioned, and I think a mind like Ann's
would be more apt to conjure up some incom
prehensible faculty. It appeared, in the com
mencement of the narrative, that the heroine
lived in some fore;gn parts not yet laid down on
our maps, Lcing in the neighborhood of Jack,
the liiant-Killer's plantation, in which vicinity
' she went out on numberless flying tours and be- j
held nameless wonders. Part of the annecdote
-'has escapeed my memory, or I never clearly un-,
derstood through what mysterious means of
transportation she was enabled to do so; but,
nevertheless, being out one day on one of her
miscellaneous aerial trips, she landed suddenly
in old Baltimore, and was serving in the capaci
ty of dressing-maid to a sulky, ill-tempered
child; assuredly belonging to tho "ne'er do
well" class of youthful humanity, exhibiting tal
ent for tearing white dresses that had an aitinity
for nails, and soiling clean pinafores and tossing
her long curls half an hour after they had been
pronounced in shining order, and last, but not
least, she would give vent to' a propensity to
kick, scratch or pinch, as the curt might be, her
faithful maid ! At this stage of the recitation,
my eyes, which had been fixed upon Ann's, as
sisting my ears to take in all, were instantly
withdrawn, for upon her left cheek I saw a
scratch which I that very afternoon had inflicted,
because she had unintentionally pulled my hair
in the curling process. I was so struck w ith the
similitude of the disposition of that little girl
with my own that I hid my fice in shame, and
lost to some extent the winding up of the tale.
save that I have an indistinct remembrance that
this unfeathered flvine creature micht. at some
unlooked for crisis, should this state of affairs
continue, ny away trom that little girl who so
resemoled mvse'.f! and the nlicht that little trirl
would be in, if having no one to do for her,
was dwelt upon at some length, apd I was iu
great consternation indeed, and rejoiced in the
stipulation that if that little girl w ith w hom I
had a common sympathy would mend her ways,
there would be no neccssitv for callinz this dor-
mant facultv into action, and thev ever after '
-- That was the abrupt finis of this story, for mv
mother entered the room, and an occurrence j
traaipired the ensuing morning, as a direct j
' consequence of Ann's indulgence in her imag-:
inative powers. 5be wa ever alter prohibited j
exhibition of her genius. Ann's story ere-1
a ted an idea in my mind and I was strangely sx- i
cited; but the presence of my mother calmed i
me. Even in my ignorance oi' the great bless
ing a mother's care w as, and bow thousands of
children with yearning little hearts went to
sleep sobbing "mother in vain, still I am con
fident I knew it was a comfort to have her
t isi e. I have know n siure, w hen in my dreams,
1 thought her still there, and I have awakened,
in the act of stretching out my arms in the
dark and the cold to embrace her.
Perhaps the night of w hich I speak was the
first restless night I had known. It is at leat
the first I can recall to my mind. When I look
tack to this period of my life, in the comparison
of what I was then and what I am now, even
in the face of the little faults and errors which
marked try earliest career, I find myself alter
ed in so many respects that it is with difficulty J
refrain front shedding tears. 'I fiuiTmvself je
; sirous of grasping hold of the old faith I had n,
God, his creatures, or w hat we term the world
the ignorance of childhood, that fruition of
bliss that I fain would cheat the stern teacher,
xjri3C, cut of the imuwiede I obtained
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to Iwr! I think she knew it already. I think
the black-seale l letter which Charley Brown's
father brought later in the day, only estureJ
her. My father had fallen a victim to the fear
an ful epidemic which raged in New Orleans, and
died a week from the time hs had last written,
I cannot dwell upon this,
My father's people w ere sorely incensed
against my mother, she being the daughter of a
surely and imperceptibly each passing year. Ah,
tee ! any pr woman of fashioa, aped in the
world 'i iraT; will tell yoa this. To be a chad
again ! Ah, me! ah, me! I would gather that
old faith into my heart, and carry it with mo
down into my life", as we carry Lanterns of dark
nights. The wise faith the foolish oW world
pronounces verdant. If I were an artist, ami
wished to paint a lesson 01 iginating in the high
3t princiole of art, I would choose lor my sub
ject the Lule Child seated in the midst of the
disciple?, and the full consciousness that they
must uxlearn much thjl they accounted wisdom
should dawn in the eager expression of each
face.
In that day I wa totally unacquainted with
falsehood to that degree I believed Ann in all
thinga, no matter how enormous the absurdity of
what she told, and I do not blush to scknowl-
itAcrA tliia trt vrn I vi nnfHAnt 1 littin fHH
haH l,ri ... .n.in l with a f.rilitT for
making lark-like tours. I coveted the posses
sion of tbe privilege enjoyed by the birds I
loved. I dreamed of her. 1 awakened to muse
vpoa her. In my dreams she tantalised me by
flying off just as I had approached near enough
to venture to satisfy my curiosity as to her in
visible means; and, waking, I was provoked
that I hi- een near her but in a dream. So
the night passed in unsatisfactory dreams and
disagreeable awakenings. I was silent and
moody all through the making of my toilet. I
was motionless and speechless during the curling
operation, pull my hair never so hard, as Ann
wonld to overcome numberless tangles that ob
'structed the passage of the eomb through my
long, thick hair. If 1 remember rightly, my
beauty lay in my hair, as did Sampson's strength
in his, and the dressing of that hair was Ann's
mania. I have a vivid recollection of standing
at the head of the winding stairs, where Ann
and I parted companv, she returning to my room
to put it in order, f had not any definite ob
ject in view in loitering there; but it occurred to
me, as she closed the door, that if one little
girl could fiv, so could another. As ehila. I
was rah and impulsive. M v girlish cousins al
wars shunned me, as thev would a great boy.
and the bovs chose me for their play-fellow, for I
excelled in their sports. I did not care for
girls' plays. I had an antipathy for dolls. I
once traded off a new wax doll to mv cousin
Charley Brown for a few eomies, plasters and
crystals, because ns little sister cried tor it. 1
never knew fear in those davs. n ith me, to
conceive an idea of performing an fe:it was to
put that idea into execution immediately. 1
would fly down those stairs. My arms should
serve me for wings. I shut mv eves; I spread
out my arms; I sprang up and drew my feet up,
and in endeavoring to keen this foundationless
position in air, fell headlong. Thus my first
aspiration was rudely nipped in the bud. I hare
a pleasant reminiscence of a darkened room
and a pale, sweet face, with blue eyes, bending
above me w ben 1 awoke. 1 ben 1 slept again, and
woke to heur my father say: "Thank God she
is not a cripple," and our old family pbvsician
make some low remark. Ann was crouciiing at
the foot of the bed crying for me I who had
beed'so nnkind to hei aiid 1 wanted to call her
to me; but I was very weak. Then I thought
mav be I would die. Then a great fear over
took me. I had never associated death with mv
ia of God. There was no connection between
tne bountiful hand that bestowed life and the
grasping one which deprived. In mv then com
parative innocence I loved God. Mv mother
told me God himself was Love. In the songs of
birds, and in the heautv of flowers, and iu any
thing that made my heart exceedingly glad, I
acknowledged God. 1 had a dtead of death. I
never regarded it as a gate througn which the
soul passed up to God. It was rather, to mv
childish imagination, an eternal separation from
Him. I was wont to teate my mother and her
visitors by perpetually asking them to explain
about the soul; but I never comprehended their
best and most patient endeavors to do so.. Now
I feared to solve this problem myself. God
heard the prayers of those who loved me, and
from the brink of the grave restored me to
thtm. After my convalescence, there was an
uneventful time a season of uninterrupted
happiness a cairn before a storm.
It Was a fearful storm that broke over as; the
mote fearful thsit we were in the full enjoyment
of the sunshiDe of yesterday, and so unprepared
to meet the col i. dark desolation of our wreck
to-day. My iV.i.tT had been absent from home
on business. In his last letter he wrote, "Look
for me home," stating the period of his ex
pected arrival. W e counted the days. It was
autumn the year's twilight. Summer was dy
ing far over the hills, and tbe earth waa wearing
a bright face as so rinr.y human beings, when
unconsciously apprcichmg a sure desolation.
We gathered around the early fires, and my
mother would take me on her lap and strain me
to her heart, and we talked of him. At length
the day came. It was a day to be Eet down in
one's memory, coming in so suddenly amid the
early dark days, so golden in sunshine, so ripe
in beauty, that it was like a letter from the
springtime,, and the very heart of Nature was
gladdened, and her face brightened by it. I
wandered through the house in great unrest.
My mother's eyes ever turned toward the win
dow; but she strove to chct-k my impatience.
The gorgeous sunset mocked my heavy heart.
All through the gray, cold tw iligtit 1 stood at
our gate. Once a carriage drove up to our
very curb. Eager and almost breathless, I
sprang to the unopened door. Cold, strange
eyes looked inquiringly at me, and the voice of
a foreigner inquired for a number on the next
Bquare. At last th house lamps were lit, and
being no longer able to endure this first bitter
disappomtmeut, 1 ran up the long walk into tne
lighted hall and into the library, where my
mother sat in the firelight, with her face resting
in her hands. Something in her attitude ar
rested me. I never saw her sitting in that
position in after years but I was reminded of
this night. I had been crying to myself in that
little run; but at the sight of the pale face she
raised and turned toward me, I instinctively
checked myself. Drawing an ottoman to her
'side, I crouched upon it and laid my head in
her lap. We were silent at first; all the while
her hand passed to and fro through my long
curls, and there was such mesmeric power in
the loving touch I was soothed and suddenly a
hope sprang in my heart, and I exclaimed,
"There's to-morrow, mamma; he will surely
come to-morrow' And she said "Yes, deir,"
softly, and bent low over me and kissed me.
We had our tea in the library. I marveled,
silently, because there were fresh boquets on
the mantels of the dining-room, and the table
was set iu state, and father's napkin ring was
laid again; but the thought came to me after
ward why my mother bad not the heart to sup
there that night,
1 sat up lar lieyona my usual
hour for retiring. My mother told me amusing
ana instructive atones uuiu i was quive nappy
strain, and had forgotten why it was we lingered
iu the library so late. I thought she was happy
because she smiled.
. I was awakened through the night, but She
waa alw ays sitting at my bedside; and when the
new day was dawning in the east, snd the early
light stole through the crimson curtains of the
great windows, she was there still to smile
unon me. What a day and night that had been
clergyman and they of the Kouian Catholic
faith. Her ow n father closed the doors against
her because she had married out of the church.
Uncle Charles was the only one of that house
hold who countenanced her; but he had sinister
motives. He became her adviser. It appears
my father's affairs were dreadfully complicated
and mixed up. T did not understand then how
it was, and my mother and I ever avoided this
painful subject. There was a law suit. My
father's people were against us, and they were
great in number, and my mother was a lone
woman, struggling with a broken heart, and she
lost. Our home was sold over our heads.
We went.tq Uncle Charley's, only to remain
to make preparations for a jouruey westward.
The tide of emigration was westward. It was
like a new world. My aunt, finding the sincere
efforts she mads to dissuade my mother Ineffect
ual, rendered her all possible assistance). My
wwlo rfBrtrted feebly agtinsttbli step; but
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bit mother's resolution was not to be shaken,
and I think the morning he parted with us at
the depot I discovered a lurking expression of
relief in my ancle's face as he bade us farewell,
Soon after he became a rich man, and be had
in comparatively moderate circumstances,
so that he grew in great favor with my father
.brothers. But we heard all this from strangers.
He never wrote to my mother, and we seldom
if ever mentioned him. although I am sure he
wax often in our thoughts.
Wh.t a and place is a railroad depot for a
heavy heart, with its excitement and bustle and
take care of yourself aspect. I saw little girls
there who were going away, too; but they had
fathers to come and bid them pood-by, and
others had fathers to go with them. But we
were alone. People stared at our new mourn
ing, and left us to ourselves. I fell to weeping
passionately. 1 forgot try mother in myself-
jshnesa, now that I wa i all she had
left in the
world to love her.
When the cars stared, I gathered myself up
in the corner of the seat, snd woald not hear
her sweet, comforting words, but cry myself to
sleep; aad this wa the first day of our new life
the preface of daikdays the . beginning of a
seoarate existence. " "
How our Teara.Bg hearts would return to the
former time! Sometimes a form, a tone of
voioe, sodden glimpse of a lace, a chord in
and a atraiure hanDiness thrilled us so: so
it was for years after. He had died so suddenly
ana so tar away Irom us, ana we never looted
ucon bis dead face. We were lovmrr him the
same, and we still looked for him home. .
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CHAPTER II.
LAUNCHED.
The inarch of improvement had not been so
rapid in those days. . We were two weeks jour
neying over a distance which, in the present
time, can be accomplished in two or three days.
An uninteresting journey to me, terminating" in
famous old town in Kentucky, which, for con
venience, I will name Westville.wliere my
mother placed me at a boarding-schools I have
a vivid picture of the immense school-room as I
saw it first, with its rows and rows of desks, and
(lie four great stoves, "red hot," at one of winch
I had stationed myself, counting i.e desks aiid
the rubbers at the black-boards, anj erlools,
ing sums that were left thereon -ait,.:.'? toy
head with Geometrical figures, asx ,adir jlnbt
toes and proverbs, names and initial betters.
written in pretty school-girlish bands, such as
Knowledge is .rower,
the company he keeps," "The world belongs to
the brave," "Lucy White, D. L." Now, if it
had been M. D., or A. M., or F. S. A., I could
have imagined this a pleasant ioke. but mv eve
almost immediately falling upon another name,
Susie Drown and , mv mental vision
cleaned. On the margin of the pages of my old
school books was similar writing, and I recalled
dear little blue-eved bov in Baltimore who had
been my escort to birthday parties, and Bible
panoramas, and the Saturday matinee. I see
myself standing there like one in a dream.
Presently the door opens, and a bevy of girls,
witnout noticing, rusu uv me to a door on the
opposite side of tho room, nailed upon which is
great placard whereon is written in plain.
handsome, unmistakabble writing, the New
Rules. I noticed that each girl, in her turn,
reads, and that each girl, in her turn, lifts her
hands and gives two or three little shrieks; and
hear such exclamations us "abominable!" and
preposterous!" and I entertain pitv for them;
untU I observe that each new-comer does the
same, and then, joining the group at the farther
stove, becomes as merry as they, and I conclude
this is a mors form that the girls go through
with for their own private amusement. After
while they converse in a somewhat subdued
tone, and through the furtive glances 'cast to
ward me, I know myself to bd; the all-absorbing
topic, and mv deep mourning a cause of great
speculation. I stand apart, not caring a fig for
their opinion. However strange this may seem,
is, nevertheless, quite true. It mi gut have
been owing to the tact that boys were alwav
my chosen playmates, or that I never had a sis-
tcr. At all events, the favor of these girls was'
matter of total indifference to me. I huggso?
myself with a sense of miserable isolation, and
began to wish myself eisewnere. : 1 thought ot
my kind teacher in Baltimore, and fall to won
dering if I could ever love as well the tall, stern-
looking lady who met my mother and i in the
parlor, and from that to conjecturing as to who
the personage, and what ner otuce, who had con-H
uuctedmtto that great room. 4 ben I stared
out of the window at tne ceaars, loosing vjry
pretty in their first snowy hangings, and only
knew from the louder talking and more frequent
laughs, that tlie number of the group at the
stove had been greatly increased, and they were
unmindful ot me as I bad been of them; but
listened to their voices and said softly to my
self who I should like in time; and while I mused
thus a hand was laid on my shoulder, and the
young girl who brought me hither said : " You
will please return witn me, miss, ana lea me
back to tne parlor, wnere my mouier ana tne
Preceptress awaited me.
I elided into my motaers outstretcnea arms
and laid my head upon her shoulder. That was
always my movement when troubled. As long
I could remember, I wonld rush to her just
so, and that was the end of my sorrows; but
now I remembered haw pale and ill she looked,
and that it had pained her to see me so sad, and
composed myself and slipped out ol the hold
her dear arins and stood quietly at her side.
While she spoks to ma I glapced, from time
time, at the tall lady opposite, and I noticed
that the whole expression of her face had
changed ; those hard lines about the mouth dis
appeared, and a soft, sweet expression crept
there instead, and lay in her eyes, too, when she
raised them; and I was reminded of a sunset
glow over a winter's sky, a reminiscence of
bright sunny skies, and "verdure clad" Nature.
My mothhr was saying to me, or, more cor
rectly speaking, she was endeavoring to say to
me, verv gently ; "Egie, I have a trial in store
for my little girl," and her lips trembled and
her eves were cast down; "a trial, a test of my
little girl's affection for me, if she will bear w ith
patience our separation. Egie, dear, I have
seen fit to place you at this school through the
week. You and 1, who have never parted, will
be separated from Monday morning until Friday
evening. But I will remain at Mrs. Wilson's.
The time will not seem long to you, dear; due
attention to your studies will hasten it."
She paused and looked down into my eyes with
the olden gaze of unfathomable tenderness, and
think she discovered the rebellious spirit ris
ing within me, for she said, in tones that were
pierced with pain, "Your own good has been
mv object in placing you here as a boarder. But
will be near you, and you will come home
every Friday night. Yon and I, who have never
been separated, mi st part now. Still we will in
time learn from this habit of regarding our
selves near one another in our separation, cer
tain comfort, perhaps, in the parting that must
be."
I think she would rather have said less. I
believe she thought her hidden meaning was
clear to my discerning eye and quick ear. Still
think she felt it a duty to approach nearer a
subject that was painful beyond endurance to
both, and she would have spoken at more length,
but some well concealed feeling made it a diffi
cult task indeed. I was struggling with myself
my innate selfishness. Tins was all new to me
But she who knew me wo well knew it was the
best way. Knowing my own disposition, I see
it clearly now as she did The idea of being a
day scholar in this strange school had cost me a
sleepless night or two, but this was unbearable.
I let fall a tear or two, but I was not " prone to
weeping, as my sex commonly are." An evil
spirit ruoe up in me. I looked up again into
my mother's face, and the old smile that she
wore for my Bake w as Ritting there calm, serene.
God knew what agony of soul it obscured fiom
my passion-blinded vision. I cried out: " She
does not care for me no one loves me. I want
to die! I want to diel Only my father loved
me of all the world, and he is dead I" I throw
myself upon the floor, and sobbed and moaned
passionately, but I shed no tear. I cried aloud
that my mother hated me and I hated her; that
she brought me there to strangers and left me,
now that father was dead, and there was no one
to take my part. When my passion subsided, I
lay weak and helpless. A servant was called to
carry me un stairs, J offered no reiiitance. J
A man U known
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i had closed my eyes, and was not aware that my
j mother was lying pale and insensible upon the
i sofa, or the strength of all the servants of that
household combined could not have borne me
hither. I lay upon the bed, in the long dormi
been tory, moaning to myself, for the evil spirit had
eyes ana was asnamea oi mem. cut i lay mo
music, tionless, with mv eves closed, hoping that each
j torn my soul, and the remorse and pnde of my
heart, each struggling for sole possession, owned
no healing power. I scarcely noticed the long
lines of beds on either side the room, nor the en
trance or withdrawal of any of the number of
girls constantly coming and going. J. hey would
look toward mv bed and sav with utter indiffer-
Oh, a new one." They did not bother
me with tneir sympathy, "fccenes were not so
novel to them as to afford amusement even.
They chatted of fashions and Christmas pres
ents, and goseipped about their neighbors, and
slandered the absent bosom friend, and talked
sentiment about tours and Charleys and Her-
' berts. They were sent there to "finish," and
1 they were tak.ng the evil with the good. Thev
! had stepped out of the quiet and protection of
home, and were plunged too suddenly into the
world. They were noisy, vehement creatures,
One of them said my ancestors were the seven
sleepers, since I could enjoy the "balmy" in
such a racket as that; snd another that Iwaa
possumming, and would be sure to turn out an
eavesdropper; andstillanotherth.it 1 had gray
bell that rang the half hour would be a summons
ior inem. many a iaay teacner came up ana
reprimanded ttieni severely lor their tardiness
When she was cone, they shrugged their shoul
ders, and said " Jliss Lane had not forgot that
obnoxious habit of coming to clear the premises,
but then she w as a dear, delightful old hypocrite,
and would not teport them to Miss Pardoe for
the world," and they straightway voted her a
handsome present at the close of the term.
After their w elcome departure, a grateful silence
reigned in my immediate vicinity, but ever and
anon the ball-hour bell rang out sharply, and va
rious pianos about the house Stormed fearful
discords. Mv head throbbed and ached. I sat
up in my bed pressing my burning forehead with
my feverish hands, and f wanted the cold little
hand of my mother there.
Miss Pardoe glided noiselesslvto my side. A
stern look was upon her face its habitual ex
pression but she smoothed my tangled hair with
a kindly, gentle touch. 1 could not meet her
eyes at first; but it enconraged me to ask if my
mother was down stairs. There was no up
braiding in the quiet, steady gaze she fixed upon
me. 3'here was rather a sorrowful pity, and I
thought' at the time a certain sympathy kindled
in hor eves, as if she recognized the evil snirit
slumbered within me. Somehow I feltets
if she had been once like me, sin-stained; but
now her soul's robes were cleansed to the white
ness of purity, and she who stood beside me was
oueof His redeemed. At that moment, through
her presence, God toisrhed my soul. : A: deep
sense of the sin I bad committed fell upon me.
I w ept bitterly, and her tears were flowing with
mine. "Egie," she said, " before I can answer
your question let us talk freely together." She
took mv hand in hers. She told me of various
incident in her liV that co.as ineed her of the
necessity T3f the lesson "wef nsust all loarp, of
6elf control
I do not remember her exact
words. . ':'
On two or three occasions we had such talks,
and good seed were dropped that lay in darkness
and obscurity many years- But it was the "word
9pokeu in good season," and, like the bread
cast upon the .raters," .returned. She had
sinned and she had suffered: ,"What she now fas
she was by the grace of God." She showed me
my fault, not exaggerated, but severed from ev
ery plausible shadow of excuse. It was as!
though Eho he'd God's mirror beford me, and I
saw rellected there tho hideous deformity of my
soul. She showed me my mother deprived of
my father's protection, and our large fortune re
duced to a diminutive income. She painted life
to' me, notasa-paradise, no matter how enhanced
its bcjuties were, through the goodnes3, niercy
and glorv of God; nor as a dark, gloomy place,
with lis lost Eden behind and an avenging God
ever approaching; but as a school, a preparatory
plfice to lenrn His will, to do His work a place
tiir.t C&V be to all a field of noble actions. . She
spoke to a slumbering spirit within me that
quickened at the word not, as i said, that there
was any immediate result therefrom. A soul
used to luxury and ease could not, throw off
the silken cords of inertia at once, to bind on the
heavvT:liain of duty's bidding. And I was but
J kfi.r vp-;,k rnm,-ii. ,i -
beautiful face of mv old companion! Idleness,
.bending over me, with its luring smile, how
could i look away to tno unprepossessing, scarred.
itrangt face of Duty, marked with its record of
CORlilCtBJ
Miss Pardoe advised my taking a little re
freshment and remaining in the dormitory for
the purpose of seeking rest, that I might enter
school on the morrow with invigorated strength.
She did not kiss me before going awny. She
had given me a higher and better marc ot ner
esteem. She left me quieted, but hardly com
forted then. The path of the future lav through
dark ways for me. Poverty waa a new com
panionduty, a hard taskmaster life, disrobed
ot all tne nngut tints ot imagination, stretched
out before me, a boundless, colorless space.
There was to be no more sentimental dreaming.
no lingering beside the fountains of youth for
me; my heart must never again throb with wild
ecatacies at some airy fabric; it must only know
the dull pain ot stern realities, ibis was what
said then, and I tried in vain to sleep, with the
weight of a heavy misery at my heart. Very
wearied I became.
The rows of small bedsteads, and the various
trunks beside them, assumed a common lock to
me, as if J had beep accustomed to them. My
eves had gone on numberless exploratory expe
ditions, and I knew that upon the novel wash-
stand, wnich was the length ol the upper side ot
the room, were a dozen pitchers and a dozen
basins and a dozen soap-stand? and that some
were whole and some broken, and some blue
and some green and some white. They were
peculiar to the institution unlike all others I
had ever seen. It was certain relief to hear ap
proaching footsteps upon the stairs. The door
opened, and the young person who had conducted
me to the parlor entered, herring a tray of re
freshments. I felt again an unaccountable cu
riosity in her, and still instinctive forebodings of
evil. She spoke to me kindly, asking if she
should pour out my tea, because my hand trem
bled, aud, not delaying for my permission, did so,
and sliced my toast. I noticed that her hands
were small and steady, aud dnzzliugly white
pretty hands that would be well suited to a sick
room. The costly sets of the rings glittering
upon her fingers I thought rather out of keep
ing with her plainness of dress. It was made of
some coarse, brown material, not making the
least pretension toward costliness, but made in
the most becoming style, aud worn with the air
of a princess in velvet.
One was reminded of the brown dress of Cin
derella in the play. A neat figure, which I dis
cerned at once to be a difficult stitch, was em
broidered upon her smjll linen collar, and which
recognized to be the work of steady hands like
hers; but I thought it would have been prettier
if it had been plain.
I am not of Lavater's opinion, that all things
have a physiognomy. Still I fell to reading this
girl through her dress, and I learned afterward
that the opinion then formed was rather correct.
did not notice her face much, for her eyes were
fixed upon mine. It was pretty, to glance at; it
was pleasant to see occasionally. A rather
large head, Vbroad, high forehead, and small,
regular features, something of the Grecian or
der, cheeks rathor too full, complexion delicate.
There were contradictory lines about the mouth,
much of sweetness, much of pride, but neither
predominant. Her eyes were a light blue, with
coldnenrtless gle im in them. Her hair was
golden in the sun, a rich brown in the shade, and
in abundance and fineness of texture unparal
leled, and it was the glory of her beauty. It
was a saying in the school. "As beautiful as
Marion Burton's hair."
She remained beside me until I had partaken
of the nourishment; but although we made good
use of our eyes, our acquaintance was not ad
vanced beyond the exchange of a smile or so.
When Blie was gone, 1 settled my pillows com
fortably, aud amused myself with various con
jectures as to her position in tlie institute, un
til 1 saw ber agaiu in dreams.
I do not know h w long I slept. I was star
tled by a loud, emphatic voice, exclaiming
" Ink 1 why, Clara I your pretty new sack I"
and
a
it
i
" Hash 1 you'll wake that poor little miserable
over there."
- - Lightly tread ! lightly tread '."
"She takes on very strong, they say," in an
undertone.
"Poor little dear, the storm3 of adversity have
assailed her in the early morning of her life.
four m a little more water, t elic.ty, dear, she
has just lost her father, and ber mother will be
hearing the angels sing before long; so she sends
her here through the week, so that The separa
tion may be gradual."
" Poor dear ! who told yon?"
" There, I knew it would not come out. Just
strain your accustop-?d ears to hearken to an
extempore lecture from Miss Pardoe. That is
the second new dud gone up cn first day. Who
told me? That clever bird, Marion, at her old
vocation, listening at key-holes. . May she be
blessed with earaches this term. She spun a
long romance about how they had been wealthy
and her father died a bankrupt; but you know
she is so given to exaggeration that one does not
know the exact beginning oi a story, she is such
a liar, you know, saving the presence of any one
who may be listening at the key-bole. This
voungster, as any one possessing the full num
ber of senses allotted to erring humanity might
do, objected to staving here. She got up a reg
ular tragedy, a la oiddons, lor Miss rardoe s es
pecial entertainment. Marion was door-keeper,
you know. The mother fainted, and a carriage
had to be called, although she boards just round
at Mrs. Wilson's, where the Governor is. The
Lord prosper him."
"Be still, irreverent creature. Do you know,
sister Nell tried to dose me with the news that
Nort had written to her?"
"Nort?" laughed her companion. "Never,
Girley; it would have taken her all the vacation
to decipher his penmanship. Botheration on
that history bell !"
'Will you sit by me and prompt, Fidget dear.
I have not had a minute to prepare."
"Fidget dear" made some laughing remark,
and they were gone. I sprang off my bed with
the fully determined purpose of going to my
mother. This was the first knowledge I had of
her fainting and consequent illness. What if I
had killed her in my cruel anger? A dreadful
terror seized hold of me. Torturing thoughts
sped through my brain. I dare not hope. I
dare not pray God's mercy. I must go at once
to learn tne worst ttiat might be. 1 must do so
secretly. " I could not endure the delay of hav
ing my freedom questioned. I must steal away
like the convicted, guilty creature I felt myself
to be. Cautiously I approached the stairs. Mv
way was clear to the fip" floor. Having reached
the main hall, I hid m an obscure dark corner.
A door opened stealthily. Marion glided softly
past me. l could have reached out my hand
and touched her. I knew then that my only
safety depended upon my speed. I wouid not
wait for my bonnet and wrappings. The parlor
aoor was open, Dut mere was a good deaf ot loud
talking and laughter. I knew their thoughts
were occupied. I wonld not be defeated in mv
purpose. I glided boldly past the open door un
noticed. I turned the great key with nerTous
hands, and resolutely opened the heavy door.
It closed behind me with a bang, whereupon I
ran down the stone stairs and the walk, and out
of the gate, never turning a backward look un
til I reached the corner breathless. No one
came in pursuit of me. I had not been observed,
so regaining breath, I ran on. I remembered
the way. My eyes had made way-marks in
the morning for themselves. The streets were
deserted, that dreary, winter? twilight. Luring
and invitingly the glow of the firelight fell upon
parlor windows. A vearnine: SDramr ud in mv
desolate heart as I passed. Then I said to my
self that 1 was going borne to my mother, and
my fears died within me. My mother's board
ing-house was a cheerful place. In my stay of
two days I had formed an attachment for her
mend, jllrs. Vt uson; so, with a thrill of joy, I
paused at this hospitable door, with its shining
plate, glimmering white in the dusk. Here, too,
the shutters of the immense parlor w indows
were unclosed, and the crimson and lacecurtains
being parted, one caught a sight of the handsome
paintings upon the wall and the costly furniture
and velvet carpet of the parlor, enhanced by the
rich, soft gleam of the firelight. A strange
gladness filled my heart. I opened the door
proudly, unmindful for one moment, and in the
next I had entered the parlor in sad perplexity
as to whether I should see Mrs. Wilson ormotbi
first. - What would they think of the manner in
which I had come, and the disrespect I had
shown Miss Pardoe? If my mother were dan
gerously ill, she would have sent for me. Ail
my resolution forsook me. I threw myself npon
the nearest sofa and wept bitterly, regardless of
tame ana place, utterly abandoned to my grief.
was even unconscious of a band being pFaced
lightly upon my shoulder until some one sat
down beside me and strong arms were about me.
Then this somebody quoted Carlyle: Tis a
shriftless thing to be sad;" and I was reminded
of my father in this, his favorite saying. He
had said it time out of naiad to me in my child
ish troubles. Even a child could not hear Nor
ton Asbury's voice once, and forget its varying
sweetness. The most common ideas would be
rendered beautifulpoetry in his expression. I
have heard Mrs. Wilson say " it was grand to
have him converse upon any subject whatever;
he could invest tbe most trivial thin with in
terest, and when conversing upon political sub
jects, even though you were of the opposite
party, and honorably Digotted in your principles,
you followed that voice until you found yourself
ready to adopt bis opinions, tor the time being
at least." I have listened to him, enraptured,
since then, and. have seen a new expression kin
dle in Marion Burton's eves when she listened.
Once she said, when h had been talking fast
on some pet topic of his, that his words "rushed
out of him," and some of the girls laughed at
her odd saying; but I understood what she was
trying to hide.
If yoi-4ad been standing on the sidewalk
without am, the glow of the tire had attracted
you, your eyes would naturally wander from the
rich ornaments of the room to the graceful
figure of a young man bending over a child,
and you would have seen him as I did, looking
up at that moment. No matter about his hight
that was always difficult to determine. His
beaiin" was majestic, and endowed you with an
idea of a hight which his stature had not at
tained. You admire tlie symmetry and full de
velopment of a figure w hose every movement
is grace, characterized by manly strength. The
fine contour of the head, the waving masses of
black hair, which creates the undying admiration
of the susceptible young ladies of the institute,
the clustering curls above the broad, intellectual
forehead enhancing its pale beauty. The classic
features, the proud black eyes, ever changing
expression with present thought which words
fail to describe, sometimes cold and proud,
looking far off, again pleading, earnest, search
ing jour heart for lost treasures anon, defiant
and dearing, again irresistibly roguish. But
when the face is at rest, touching in the melan
choly, unre ting spirit, looking out of their
depths. The voluptousness of tho small
mouth in whose expreMion mingle ami
able sweetness of disposition and firmness of
purpose, w bo..e curving lips can part in smile of
loving innocence, like a child's, or in a stoical
derision, whose chill will strike unerringly at
your heart's core, or they will be compressed
with an unflinching decision untd the lines which
mark it seem only those of harshness and sel
fishness. You notice too the whiteness and the
perfection of form of the hand, small almost to
deformity. With the full glare of the fire
light upon him I think, like me, vou will notice
ill this. Take this
poor picture, falling so
short of the reality of the beatitv and perfection
attempted to portray, take it away with you as
uiu. Aeep it, tor tne vears m.iKe no ravishing
changes of such. To such an one I gave mv
lull confidence, snd 1 believe 1 poured mv
childish troubles into sympathizing ears. His
was a gonerous, impulsive nature, overlooking
mv error, he advised my seeing mv mother and
enlisted in my cause at once. He gave mo a
name. Little Warrior. He smiled when 1 said
that I knew "the only right thing for me to do
was to return."
"But Miss Pardoe?" he asked with grave
look.
"Oh, nothing," I said. "I suppose I will be
punished for an example, but I will never break
one of her rules again as long as I live."
He looked at me with a queer smile at first,
then gravely and kindly offered to escort me
there when 1 saw fit to return. So with swift
ness in my feet, relief in my heart, and hope in
my nee, i hastened to my mother s room,
She
of
to
to
a
ui
to
to
tlie
Bly
was resting in an easy chair, and some thought
ful person had arranged her pillows. I noticed
this with a twinge of conscious jealousy. I felt
that already some one had taken my place she
was learning to do without me. But I concealed
tne transient thought ot pain, tier face was
whiter than the linen of the slips, and she was
too feeble to raise to meet me. She welcomed
me with outstretched arms, but I wonld not be
taken back to my old place until I had knelt be
fore her and confessed my guilt. We embraced
one another again and again. It was as though
we had journeyed separate to foreign lands and
had returned. After our first and only es:
trangement the reconciliation was sweet. My
mother rang for lights and tea, and we spent a
pleasant hour together. I said it would be
happiness to stay in that pleasant place the re
mainder of the week and commence my school
in good style the following Monday. My indul
gent mother sanctioned my wish, but a new
spirit of resolve within me determined me to
conquer myself and return at once. It was not
an easy task to convince my mother of the ne; 1
cessity of my doing so, but I at length obtained
her reluctant consent. A little while we talked
of our fuaire prospects. Peering together so
into the iuture wa discovered chinks .that ad
mitted a flooding sunshine npon the untried
darkness. It was a pleasant way of facing
poverty, and encasing her rough hard hand with
a kid glove. I was reminded of passing time
by restless feet pacing to and fro the hall. Then
I knelt before my mother and our bowed spirits
in dire poverty of good gifts implored the rich
ness of His blessing, and with my mother's
benediction resting upon me I went forth to
that battle field whose conflicts are not recorded
in blood, neither are its soldiers discovered by
dying groans, only God wots of the dreadful
strife, a?d His angels note the silent moan and
the unwept tears. ;.. -!
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
Original.
Clark's Letters to Gov. Seymour.
NUMBER FOUR.
ST. LOUIS, 1863.
To Horatio Seymour, Governor of New York:
Sik. I cheerfully accord to vou one patriot
ic utterance in your speech of September 10th,
1862. You truly say, "He who would rend
our National Standard by dividing our Union, is
a traitor he who would put out one glittering
star from its azure field is a traitor too." But
when we consider the mode you take to serve
your country; to uphold its National Standard
and keep unfurled its glorious ensign when, I
say, we listen to yonr crimination of the Na
tional Legislature, imputing to it a craven spirit
of terror, and a perfidy which would dishonor a
highwayman; your manner of upholding the
honor and dignity of your country, and oi sus
taining its moral power is most remarkable. I
fear you fall within the scope of your own con
demnation, for I know of no more effectual way
of "rending our National Standard; and divid
ing our Union; and of blotting out from the
azure field of our noble flag each glittering
star;" than thus, in the face of a defiant, per
jured and traitorous foe, malign the constitu
tional authorities ot the nation.
Your deep concern for the cause of the Union
while you thus reproach the Government, is so
gauze-like, that it resembles the kind solicitude
of Joab for Anuses' welfare, who, while holding
him by the beard and kissing him, uttering
tnose Diana woras: "Art thou m health, my
brother?" with his left hand smote him under the
fifth rib, that he died.
Believe me sir, your countrymen will be verv
apt to place the same estimate upon your patri
otism in the present fearful emergency, that
uavia uia in tne ease relerred to upon the
friendship of Joab.
To give a semblance of candor to vour
charges against your Government, you make
certain extracts from leading journals of the
Union then regarded a3 friendly to the adminis
tration, which, under the depressing influence of
the disastrous campaigns of the Penin
sula and General Pope, were somewhat de
spondent in tone. It needs but a mere super
ficial knowledge of the case, however, to show
that the use you make of these extracts, is dis
ingenuous and wanting in truthfulness and can
dor. They were designed to rouse the adminis
tration to a more vigorous prosecution of the
war, while your efforts were designed to bring
the administration into popular contempt, and
secure the triumph of the Democratic party, in
the then pending election. The patriotic robe
so gracefully flying around your own standard is
quite too short to hide the cloven deformity
which protrudes below.
Schooled as you have been for half your life
time, in the worst and most corrupting maxims
of partisan politics; no one who knows your his
tory could expect that in a political "canvass,
you would deviate one jot or tittle from the es
tablished principles of your party, that "all was
fair in politics;" and that "to the victors belong
the spoils." No manly sentiment, like the almost
dying words of Douglass was ever expected to
proceed from your lips. Even in the hour of
your country's greatest peril, your "jaundiced
eye" could see nothing in your political horizon
but the organization of the Democratic party.
When the integrity of the Union was men
aced, and treason, like a vampyre, waa sucking
the life-blood of the country, the noblo Doug
las, rising above all party considerations, ex
claimed: Let as ley laid all criminations and recrlmln?
tlons to tbe origin of to Me diOtruUiea; when we
bave ayaln a country wltb tbe Cnitad Mates Flag
flonUur over It, and re-pected on every Inch of
American aoil, It will thea be time enough to aak
wbo and what brought all th's upon tie.
Contrast this language of the dying patriot,
with your wholesale slander and abuse of the
administration on the eve of yoar State elec
tion; you, vourself be ng the gubernatorial can
didate ! Listen further to the words of Doug
las to the people of Chicago, commending them
that they had ''laid aside party strife:" and then
remember your partisan speech, stirring up
the angry waters of political strife, and
urging tne thorough "organization of the Dem
ocratic party." Have you forgotten the conduct
Clay and Webster when the demon ot Slave
ry under the garb of Nullification, lifted its vile
head to menace the Union, where thev laid
aside party issues, and gave all their giant
strength iu support of Jackson's administration,
crush by prompt ana vigorous measures that
infamous attempt of treason and rebellion ?
Did those great leaders raise the stale cry of
violated State Rights, and sing doleful charges
upon the dangers to Constitutional liberties be
cause of the bold and noble efforts of General
Jackson to smite the hydra headed monster cf
nulification? If you can extend your vision be
yond the limited horizon of party plots and
counterplots, and learn a lesson from this ex
ample of those great champions of the Whig
party; if you can possibly behold patriotism and
statesmanship elewhere than in the pro-slavery
portion of the Democratic party, of which voit
seem ambitious of being the acknowledged
leader; you would never have given utterance
these miserable slanders of the preseut ad
ministration. Go, sir, and learn a lesson from
the nobleness of the Butlers, tlie Bumsiden, the
Dickinsons, the Logans and other prominent
members of the loyal Democratic party, w ho
are now silent on party issues except to con
demn them, and are exerting all their powerand
influence to sustain the honor and integrity of
Republic, instead of vilifying the Federal
administration! Look on this picture and then
a
up
all
to
for
on
or
the
to
in
the
of
and
you
we
P. CLARE.
Hire is something which young men of am ill
salaries should consider: Let a man hive a
genius for spending, and whether his income be
dollar a day or a dollar a minute, it is eqiuillv
ccrtain to prove inadequate. Tlie mm who
(being single) does not save money on six dol
lars a week, will not be apt to on sity; and he
who does not lay up something in the first vear
independent e.xemon, win oe pretty apt to
wear a poor man s hair into his grave.
' that
Oil Dea !" exclaimed Henrietta, throwing i as
herself into the rocking chair, "I'll never go,
that Post Otlice again to be looked out of
oaunteuance by all those men on the side walk.
a so provoking ! Wbot can 1 do, Sarah Jane, I ous,
slop those awful men from staring me so in J
face ?'f "Do as I do." replied Sarah, with n rear
look, "W your ankle!" '
to
It
,.,
Shoe
Original.
LINES TO —
BY A. N. ROISLAIN.
Neath a 'de spreading tree, by the bright Waters
gleamisg. :
There, my darling, are met last, oar tow. to recew;
How the gentle love light through joar soft eyes
wis streaming, '
and bathing my sad heart, like Heaven's own dew.
Do ion aver remember that moeay green bank.
Where I told yon my love f Oh, Heaven of bliss!
As yea in my arms unresistingly aok.
And our llpt were faet loci ed In that wild fervid
.'
Or rbea thoughts of the past bring that spot to
' yourvlew; '
That fpof, with lta fancies and memoiies blest.
Would yoa bilsg back thttmoment, to tell me anew
That yoa loved me, and droop that pioad bead on
my breast f
With yoa in my arms I could rtay there forever,
And never repine for a pleamntor spot;
Heart beating to heart, which death only coa'd sever,
And lips preening Up, which death only coold part.
From Grant's Army.
. We are permitted to make the following ex
tracts from a private letter from a member of
Grant's army to his brother-in-law in this city:
Camp Sheemas, West Sins of Black Rivot,
August 3, 1863. ,
Dear Brother. We are still in the same
camp that I wrote to you from last week. I am
at present blessed with good health, but many of
the members of our regiment are quite siclc
with different kinds of fevers, such as is peculiar
to this climate this season of the year. Those
that are sick at present in our regimental hos
pitals have been made so from the nature of the
forced marches we made to and from Jackson
in pursuit of Johnston, who, on our arrival at
Jackson held us in check some four davs and
then let us into the place. Alter taking pos
session of tbe place we destroyed everything
that was most likely to give comfort, direct or
indirect, to the enemy of our once bapov country.
These people, I think, here in the State of
Mississippi, are getting most awful tired of the
war, and are now willing to come back into the
Union and behave themselves, in fact, some of
them are beginning to hotel 1'uT peace, and the
prisoners we took at Jackson, to the number ot
2,500, say, that is the most of them, that before
they will go into the Rebel army again that
they will form themselves into companies and
squads and resist the pretended powers that be
to the bitter end.
Most of them think, too, that they are fighting
only for thevpurpose of setting up a few aristo-.
cratic individuals to a position not beneficial to
themselves or to the rising generations to come
that they have a like interest in. It is now given
up by the people here, those that I have talked
with, that the once so-called Confederate States
are now played out. Confederate currency
amongst them" is selling from five to ten cents
on the dollar quite a depreciation. Don't you
think sor so yoa see Cotton is not King, al
though the people of the Cotton States thought so.
Most of the families that live between here
and Vicksburg are now depending on the com
missary of the United States for their supplies,
such as women and children. This is caused
from both armies passing and repassing over this
territory until they are eat, as it w ere, out ot
house and farm. But such is the nature of war
at all times where it exists, or w here two large
opposing armies meet to gne battle.
We are at present doing but little or nothing,
but getting our camp in order to make us com
fortable. Our camp is in the woods, on the ridge
of a small hill, with plenty of waters short dis
tance from here to bathe in and cooking pur
poses. So taking all things into consideration
we are nicely fixed in a good resting place untd
'
S.
Mammoth Horse Trade.
nif lit, though the Ctptaiu holds tit luu ms
pi iimeis ol ar and awaits eu-h.uige.
" -
Tiia shoeblai k-i of London are very nn mer
it, and support regular orirsui.imi.iiis that me
controlled by a congress or shoeblacks. Lai
Was collected bv '.17 I lva nf tl.
John Morgan is said to be as good at playing
joke sometimes as he is at horse stealing, and
the following incident related by tbe Louisville
Democrat shows that on a recent occasion be
did a good deal of both, at the same time. The
story is rich, whether true or not.
During the celebrated raid through Indiana,
John Morgan, with about three hundred and
fifty guerrillas, took occasion to pay a visit to a
little town hard by, while the main body were
"marching on." Dashing suddenly into the
little "burg," he found about three hundred
Home Guards, each having a good horse tied to
the fences tbe men stauding about in groups,
awaiting orders from their aged Captain, who
looked as it be had seen the shady side ot some
sixty years. The "Hoosier boys" looked at the
men with Astonishment, while the Captain went
to one of the party, and asked:
"Whose company is this?"
"Wolford's cavalry," said the Reb.
"What! Kentucky boys! We're glad to see
you, boys. Whar's Wolt'ord?"
"There ha sits," said a ragged, rough Reb,
pointing to Morgan, who was sitting sideways
upon his horse.
The Captain walked opto Wolford (as he and
thought,) and saluted iiim.
"Captain, how are you?"
"Bully! How are you? What are you going
do with these meu and horses?"" Morgan
looked about.
"Well, you see that d d hor3e-thiving John
Morgan is in this part of the country with a
passel of cut-throa s and thieves, and between
you and I, if he comes up this way Captain,
we'll give him the best we've got in the shop."
"He's hard to catch; we've been after him
fourteen days and can't see him at all," said
Morgan, good humuredly.
"Ef our hor?e- would stand tire we'd be all
right."
'Won't they stand?"
"No, Captain Wolford, '.pose while you're
restin' you and your company put your saddles
our hoanes and go through a little evolution
two, by way of a lesson to our boys?" I'm
told you're a boss on the drill, and the only
man Morgan is afraid of."
Wolford (as it were,) alighted and ordered
"his boys" to dismount as he wanted to show
Hoosier boys how to give Morgan a warm
reception should he chance to pay them a visit.
This delighted the Hoosier boys, so they went
work and assisted the men to tie their old
weary, worn-out bones to the fences and place
their saddles upon the backs of their lresh
horses, which was soon done, and the men were
their saddles, drawn up in line and ready for
word. The boys were highly elated at the
idea of having their "pet horses" trained for
them by Woilord and his men, and more so to
think that they would stand tire ever afterward.
The old Captain advanced, and walking up to
Wolford (as he thought,) said: "Captain, are
all right now?" Woii'ord rode up one side
the column and down the other, when he
moved to the fiont, took off hi hat, paused
said:
"Now, Captain. I am ready; if you and your
gallant men w ish to witness an evolution which
perhaps have never seen, form a line oa
each side of the road aud watch us closely as
pass."
The Captain did as he was directed. A lot of
ladies were present on the occasion, and all was
silent as a maiden's a!?h.
"Arc you readv?"
"All right, Wolford," shouted alie Captain.
"Forward!" shouted Morgan, as the column
rashed through the crowd van tiglnniug speed;
amid the shouts and huzzas of every oue pre
sent some loading a horse ortwo as they went,
leaving their trail tenement'' of hor- tlc-h tied
the fences, to be pioMiled lor by the ciium.
soon bee. tine w tiieie.t about that it was
Morgan and hi.- cang. and there is not a
iu ,,0 ,,,
cullc, iml , hl
o will "own up" that lit was
.-e. The oonfVmnv ili-'b.tiuled
- black Brigade,