Plymouth Tribune, Volume 3, Number 49, Plymouth, Marshall County, 8 September 1904 — Page 3

gpdfid by a Spell

im

CIIAPTER V. I did not meet my reverend master until the next morning at prayers. After prajers. be went through the process of examining the boys. What a vile mass of hypocrisy all this seemed to me by the new lights that had broken upon me. Judith was not present. I felt that my manner was embarrassed, and I couM not endure to meet his eye. lie remarked upon my pallid looks; I had not slept awink all niht. lie asked rather sharply. "What ailed me?" "I hare a headache; I had a bad night's rest last ni.?ht." I stammered. "Oh! we will soon set that ai?. right; yon snail breakfast with me this morning. A cup of strong grren tea will scon kill the headache." , At the table I was treated mort like a gnest than even a member of the family. He himself handed to me the tfxxl things, pressing me to eat and drink of alL Martha, who was waiting, could scarcely contain her wonderment.. "You have taken my place well during ray absence," he said, in a fawning tone. "I am only just beginning to discover the treasure I have in yon. Oh. what a blessing it is to know that the seed I have sown" will yield so goodly a harvest! Well. I am getting old, and shall soon want a supporter and comforter. Ah, if I had such a son! But I must not repine- for I am blessed with the best of daughters? You two must be brought more together than you Lave been, for you are a goodly pair." He was in a rhapsoly of hypocr'sy. He drew his chair close to mine and took my hand. We were alon? now; he had desired Martha to leaTe the room. "Have yon ever noticed Jndith, Silas? A fine girl, though I say it, and gifted with that beauty which to young blood Is more attractive even than the b-n-ty of the spirit. If she were to go into the sinful world she would scores of lovers, and the children heathens would flock to ask her haii'i u marriage. But such is neither my wish nor hers; I would see her bound in the holy bands of wedlock to some sober, p'.ons youth. I would not ask of him the goods of Mammon, nor covet for my child either gold, or jewels, or fine linen, r silken raiment; for what is all that compared to that peace of the soul which passeth all understanding?" I know not what answer I made, or even whether I made any, to these cunning speeches, and others that followed in the same strain. At last, with many blessings, that sounded in my ears like bans, he dismissed me to the school room. To get away from his hideous hypocrisy was like emerging from the fetid atmosphere of a sick room into the pure air of heaven. Business which had accumulated during his absence kept him from home all day, and until late in the evening. As soon as my school duties were finished. I went into the grounds I could not bear, to be in the house and sat there until Martha came oit to call me la to tea. "Why. whatever is the matter with yoa. Master Silas?" she asked. "You iDok as white as a ghost! Are you ili?" "Oh, no, Martha! I have a headache nothing more." "Master Silas," said Martha, "there's something wrong with you something's prej ing on your mind. .Why was master so awful civil to you this morning? Don't think I'm. asking theso questions out of curiosity. Master Silas, you're as innocent as a lamb! That man or anybody else, for the matter of that could get you to do anything get you Into goodness knows v.-hat trouble. And mark my words, he's a regular bad 'un! Don't you be led away by him! He's no good to you or anybody else!" "Don't talk like that to me, Martha," I cried, bursting into tears. "You must not ask me questions indeed, you must not." 'Toor boy! what have they done to you?" she said, half to herself. "Well. I do-y't want to pry into your secrets." she went on; "but if I can help you 'with advice, or in any other way, don't be aim id to ask me." "Heaven bless yoa, Martha, I won't!" I cried, throw'ng my arms round her neck, and kiss'ng her. "It is not my secret, or I would tell you all!" How contemptible all this will read to men of the world a youth of uearly nineteen, to depend upon a womaa's defense rather than upon his own courage! From that cowardly thought, as surh men will phrase it, I began to derive a little secret comfort. The text day Judith appeared at dinner, for the first time daring several weeks. She looked exceedingly ilL Mr. Porter's manner to me was marked by the Ingratiating demeanor that shudderIngly suggested the idea of a cunning hyena luring me into his den for the sake of making a meal of my body. When the cloth was removed Jndith rose to leave the room, and no "persuasions, winks or signs from her father could indece Ler to remain. "Ah, Silas, what a treasure she. is!" he said, with a hypocritical sigh, a the door closed behind her. "Her dear mother, who is now no more, left her to me as a precious token of holy love." He passed his handkerchief across his eyes. - He little thought whit I had overheard. -With such a treasure and a stainless conscience, what should a pious yoang nan want hi this valley of sin?" he cried, in an enthusiasm of self-plauda-tion. "What, indeed?" I murmured, perceiving that he expected some answer from me. "TrucJ what, indeed?" he echoed. "Yes, one thing be wants ere he departs for the regions of the elect to see the earthly happiness' of that treasure secured. Have you noticed how ill Judith has been looking lately?" I answered that I observed she looke-d rery pale. . , , ' "Something on the mind something on the mind, and I think I've found out what it is. Girls will be girls, you know. There's many a fine fellow would" give the eyes out of his head to be in jour y shoes. Well, I am quite content; she's ' quite content; and I'm sure you must be Quite content: so there's nothing more to be said ia the matter, and the sooner the affair is settled off-hand, the better." The reverend gentkman was becoming Tery repulsive. For a time, I could not understand his meaning; at lat, it began to dawn upon me he actus ily meant to infer that Judith was in lore with me. What cn idiot he must have thought de! And yet, without the key his conversation with his daughter had given, night I net, in my simple trust of his truth, have believed? I shame to say, that I fear I might. But knowing what I did, I felt positively sick at the nausa-C-s hypocrisy and falsehood of the man. lie paused, robbed his hands, then Lru.-:!:cl .tack his hair, chuckled and Srit:J for nij to rpcai. What could I

do what could I say? Must I yield to this man's inclinations without a strug gle? Did he suspect that I knew aught of his secrets, what might he not do to me? Kill me imprison me for life! Instinctively I felt that he would pause at nothing to secure his own ends. I must say something. To his proposition, or rather to his inuendoes, I could make no reply. I would evade the question try to turn the subject. As a matter of course, I said the thing which above all others 1 ought not to have said. "Did you hear anything about my friends while you were in the city?" Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet it could not more suddenly hare changed his whole demeanor. He pushed back his chair with a start; and such a look of fierce inquiry came into his face, such a savage twinkle came into' his eyes, that I felt sure he was going to strike me down upon the spot. The words were scarcely off my lips before I was conscious of the irretrievable blunder I had made. . ' "What do you mean?" he cried, menacingly. "Did yon not say you intended to make further inquiries when you went to the city?" I faltered. "Not to you. Have you been listening?" I could feel the telltale blod rush into my face at the question. "Ever since you were speaking to me on the subject, I have thought of nothing else," I cried, in the same faltering voice. "Look here, Master Silas; what's the meaning of this behavior? There's something up I know there is, by your manner. Don't attempt to humbug me, because it won't do. Or is it that you are such a thorough-paced Idiot that you den't understand the drift of what I've been saying? I'll satisfy myself upon that point by and by. In the meanwhile, i'il speak a little plainer. I mean you to marry my daughter. To this you can't possibly make any objection, as all the sacrifice is on my side and hers. Now cone, what do you say to that?" Now that he had thrown off the mask, and spoken more plainly, I felt, for the f -,t time in my life, something like ,rage to oppose him. "I know that I possess no advantages to entitle mo to such a match, but 1 am .too young to marry," 1 said, with some little firmness. "I am the best judge of that," he answered sharply. "But I have no wish to marry." , "What!" be exclaimed, furiously. "Do you iean to say that you've the impudence to refuse my daughter?" Then followed a string of invectives and opprobrious epithets that I need not repeat. He literally foamed at the mouth. "You shall smart for this insult!" he went on, wiping the perspiration from his face. "You shall go down upon your knees and beg my pardon for this, and pray with all your heart and soul for what you've just refused!" With these words, and casting a malignant look upon me, he "hurried out of the room. , I sank into a chair, literally stupefied and overwhelmed. Bnt even the faint resistance that I had made inspired me with new confidence. I felt that I vas no longer a school boy, but verging on manhood; that it was cowardly and disgraceful to yield a slavish obedience against my conscience to such a man as he had now shown himself. The first resolution I formed consequent upon this better and firmer state of mind was that I would make a clean breast to Martha of all I knew, and then be guided by her superior worldly wisdom as to what I had better do. Feeling much relieved, I went np to the school room to superintend the afternoon tasks.

CHAPTER VI. The day's work was done, and I went down into the kitchen to have my tea and my confidential talk with Martha. In this last intention, however, I was doomed to be disappointed. Her master had entrusted her with certain commissions that obliged her at once to set out for Bury. So I was left alone. As soon as I had finished my solitary meal, I( wandered down to the bottom of the orchard. Lying down in the shadow of a large pear tree, I soon forgot my troubles. . Behind the high, thick hedge at my bach lay the extremity of the frontjgarden. I was disturbed in the midst of my meditations by the sound of voices. Their owners were walking in the Karden, and presently I could hear their footsteps close behind me.- For the tecond time I became an involuntary eavesdropper. Cowering still closer to the earth, I caught their words. "I tell you, Judith, he knows something! I believe he's been listening !" I heard Mr. Porter say. "He has not the brains or the courage !" she answered scornfully. "He's simply a fool!" "Why, then, should he ask me such a question, and follow it up by stammering that I had told him? I intended doing so before I went away; I certainly did intend doing so, but I never mentioned it even to you. Besides that, theie's been a great change in him during these few days back Instead of being grr.teful, as he always was before, for any little indulgence, he seems to shrink from it and from me, too!" Then he added quickly, as though a sudden idea had struck him, "Where was he the night that I came back? If I remember, we held all our talk in the parlor, with the window wide open, and you didn't speak in very low tone." An 'exclamation broke from Judith. The footsteps paused close behind me. I feared they would hear the violent beating of my heart. "Stop!" she cried. "That reminds me! Not a quarter of an hour before yoa returned he was clipping a bush in front of that window. I saw him frcm my bedroom." There was an ominous pause; in my .mind's eye I could picture their looks of consternation. . "Why did yon not tell me this?" said Mr. Forter, in a troubled voice. "I never thought of It until this instant," she answered. "I was too eager to hear your news, to think of him." "If he heard all that passed in .that room, he knows enough to utterly destroy us. We are completely in his power. More than that, 4 have given him a clue that may lead to profitable discoveries for himself." "And my humiliation known to that contemptible cur! Oh, heavens! I cannot survive it!" she cried, passionately. "Silence!" said her father, in a stern Toice. "This is no time for raving; this nest be seen to at once. We must net Uzi a moment. To qz::tion him in the usual way is useless. We must resort to the ether thia very n!ht. . Until we fl-i czt what ha really decs know, wo

I can't tell what to do. That once known, j I nhan't want much consideration." i "Where is .he now? Have you seen jhim lately?" . ,. : "I heard him leave the boys' room at 5 o'clock. I have not seen or heard him since then." j "Go and see where he is at once; he j might have left the house while we are j standing here."

In an instant I heard them hurrying towards the house. 1 sprang to my feet, ran across the orchard into the kitchen garden, rushed into the summer house, laid my book upon tfie table, and resting my head upon my hands, assumed an attitude of attentive study. My breath came short and thick, and my, breast was heaving when I heard my master's hasty footsteps upon the path. He began in .1 bullying tone; then bethinking him that he was betraying himself, stopped short. The expression of my face evidently disconcerted him. "What are you doing here?' he asked, evidently not knowing what to say to over his blunder. "I usually come here of an evening to read," I said quietly. "I never heard you object to it before." "Oh, it isn't that; W get the boys In at once," he said. "Very well, sir." J closed my book, and went to find the boys; my master advancing in the same direction, that he should not lose sight of me. I felt that from that moment a constant watch would be set upon me. I led the boys Into the house, and up into the school room. But the prayer that was in my heart and on my lips were not In unison with that which sounded on my ears. I was praying to escape from that dreadful house. I had taken the desperate resolution that I would not pass another night beneath the roof. The boys were dismissed to bed half an hour earlier than usual. I was going down .o the kitchen when Mr. Porter stopped me. "I've some work for you, Silas. . Fold and put these tracts into envelopes, and direct them; I'll give you the list of names. Yen can carry pen and ink, and your desk, into your own room, and do them there." He gave me a pile of papers, which I carried into my room, and then fetched the desk and writing materials, he watch ing me all the time. I went in, and shut the door; then I heard him walk away. I did not touch my work, but sat down upon the side of the bed, and tried to think how 1 could get away. I had no money I knew nothing of the roads; but better to starve, to die under a hedge than remain in that man's power. If I could only get five minutes talk with Martha, she would help me would per haps direct me where to go. (To be continued. WHY TOAST IS DISGESTIBLE. Chemical Changes Make It Palatable and Increase Salivary Secretions. It 14 the opinion of physicians generally and they seem to have imbued the general public with a like notion, that toasted bread Is much more easily digested than that cut fresh from the loaf. Some are inclined to be skeptical In the matter, however. The doctor, if asked, will probably state that the increased digestibility Is due both to a physical and chemical change produced by the toasting process, which results in a transformation of thf carbohydrates into more readily soluble forms. A writer In a government report on the subject gives the results of a series of analyses showing the changes that he found in bread produced by toasting at different temperatures. For instance, bread heated for one hour at l!12 degrees Fahrenheit, lost about 31 per cent in weight and contained 12 per cent of material t soluble in water. Light-colored, yellow toast, made at about 300 degrees Fahrenheit, was practically of the same composition. Brown toast, made at 38 degrees Fahrenheit, had 1 per cent less moisture, but the "soluble content increased to 2G per cent, while dark-urown toast, made at a slightly higher temperature, had a slightly less soluble content, and brown toast, made by the usual household method that Is, at about 320 degrees Fahrenheit contained only 22 per cent of soluble material. The doctors' contention is, therefore, confirmed to a certain extent by the results of these experiments, but It is probable, according to the conclusions of the author, that the increased digestibility of toast is to be accounted for rather on the supposition that its agreeable flavor stimulates the digestive secretions and possibly Its physical condition Insures better mastication. The increase In the solubility of the carbohydrates is not relatively great when made by the ordinary household method, since this only affects the outside that Is, penetrating to a Tery small fraction of an Inch. Thougntfut. General "Joe" Wheeler relateg the following amusing incident that took place during the night of the El Caney affair: 'General Lawton's division was marching back to El Poey, there to take up a new position In the morning. The General, in company with Major Creighton, inspector general of his staff, was -standing at the edge of the road, watching his troops file past Just as the dawn was breaking the colored troops came In sight. They gave evidence of being dead tired, but were nevertheless full of 'ginger.' "General Lawton'3 attention was attracted to a certain corporal of the Twenty-lifth Infantry, a great six-foot negro, who, in addition to a couple of guns and two cartridge belts loaded full, was carrying a dog. . The soldier to whom the other gun belonged was limping alongside bis comrade. "The General halted the men. TTere, corporal,' said he to the six-root man, didn't you march ali last night?' " 'Yes, sir,' responded the negro, sa-. luting. "And-fought all day?' " 'Yes, sir. "'You have, besides, been marching since 10 o'clock to-night?' 'Yes, sir.' ".Then,' said Law ton, 'why on earth are yoa carrying that dog?' " Well, General- replied the negro, showing his white teeth in a broad grin, 'the dog's tlredl " Woman Heme Ccrapani ' w IL II. Ballard, Just Gl years old, la president of the AgassLs aicociatica, which has l,CCO branches. lie organted the nidation in 1C73, and tzs tccn lt3 tzzl ever lLZ2.

MOKE MANNISH SUITS.

TRIMMING "OF TAILOR StllTS GROWS SIMPLER. Some Costume Jvow Offered Are So Striking as to Make Tfcem Unprofitable Purchases for Any but Very Abundant Wardroles. Sew Trk correspondence: MBELLISHment of tailor suits and garments grows more and moro simple, and there should be noted a type of suit that shedd please those women who admire masculine finish. This last has been prophesied for some time, but not until the showing of designs for fall wear has it appea ed in such fori that it could not bo attributed to the fancy of some individual wearer. Now, 'however, It comes forward in a grade of suit to be much worn. This Is made of heavy plaids of rather striking character, and consists of a plaated short skirt and a three-quarter coat baggily loose In back. The effect of the whole Is mannish enough certainFOR FALL. ly to satisfy anything but the most pronounced taste in such direction. These will be forenoon street gowns, and hardly are likely to be; accepted by the millions of ordinary folk, as they t.re too unyielding and assertive to fit nicely into small wardrobes. Sho whose, owns are su many that she can 'have a change of tailor suits will be very likely to hare one in this fashion. Another type of tailor gown noticeable in the fall designs consists of a pleated skjrt longer than the one just described and a bolero. These are more or less ornate in finish, and the simplest is safe from the charge of mannishness. The skirts are a matter of much nicety la their pleats, but are untrimmed. The jacket is more or less ornate, usually loss, about the sleeves, and its most showy feature is its revers. which turn back to how beautiful embroidery that often is rich in coloring. Gowns showing less i trimming" are inelaborate as to these re vers, and hid In thear waistcoats their most assertive feature, though this garment may present no more striking effect than a contrast of color and surface appearance. Such a gown holds the center of to-day's concluding picture."' It was green and brown plaid, with light-taa Test. At its left is another type of ta!!.r suit, a brown cloth stitched , and pelfstrapped.' Self-trimmings are much in 1 evidence -In' all grades of tailoring, and appear to. a noticeable extent also in the dressmaker's product. Fall wraps are shown to include almost anything that designers can contrive, with-marked preference for small affairs incapable of usefulness in really cold weather. Every fabric with jny fashionable endorsement whatever may enter Into these, and all the stylish trimFALL FASTTI0N3

it! glitte I

lit I ' Jilt Jilt IBIiilPÄJwl

nlngs are available for their manufacture. Now that women ere actually prx-tb-zthis from those, the ; provkica lor winter -is becoming inrprtssive. Wlct his fcetn said of the fall wrap ebo rcy b tiid of the winter succt:r, tzec-t C:it the latter is larger and better planr:l to pre a wearer cemfert In t'.tizj tre-dtr. Ltt wiaUr's tz-lj cf vrr-pj Tzzit-llj diverts, and thii vrtir's ' it : 1 (i

will be its equal in all this, with the difference that perhaps the embellishments will not be quite so elaborate. Evening garments will be ornate In the extreme, as usual. Cne for the coming . winter may be seen in the initial ßketch at the head of this depiction. It was a fine affair of white peau de soie, white satin bands and white passementerie. A simpler wrap for more general service Is in the next illustration. It was gray cloth and heavy gray cord, and had decorative silk rosettes. More capes will be seen the coming winter. The fall showing includes many small capes and cape effects. These slight affairs will not be reproduced in the winter fashions, whose capes will be larger and a much better protection. Fashion makers are not as yet chargeable with leading their followers into brief capes for severe weather, for which they are not fit, their inadequacy being proven by much distress for their wearers. Skirts on the whole are plainer, yet few entirely plain ones are found, and on the other hand there are not a few in dressy costumes which are as elaborate as anything 6een of late. The width of them Increases, especially from the knees downward. Here it is a stylish trick to flaro them out almost to the reatest possible dimension. That skirt .irnitures consist in large degree of selftrimmings does not necessarily make toward simplicity, as no one need be told that the utmost complexity is possible with just such mediums. Occasionally they are found In the very elaborate forms that prevailed in midsummer. More often they are less elaborate, yet so extensive as to add considerable to the cost of a gown, and to stand, with

AND WINTER. the addition of only a little other trimming, as exceedingly highly wrought product. Such a skirt was that of the fall theater dress at the right in to-day's second sketch. Its materials were blio dotted silk and - - blue ribbon, the Wice matching the scheme of the skirt closely. Fassementeries and the finer braids are to be much used also for the free enballishment of skirts. An example of their employment appears at ths right of the concluding sketch. Blue voile was the material, passementerie the trimming. The braids are to be used, too, on a great many gowns of simple finish whereon they will constitute the sole finish, or will be used with the simpler forms of self trimming, the latter put on sparingly. Fashion Notes. Spotted muslins are especially attractive. ' ' 1 Gun-metal green is a smart shade in veiling. A touch of orange is lovely with brown shades. . - A very important point to consider Is the girdle. ' " - . A cleat buff color is much liked for tub materiaI-3. ' . ' ' ' ' Brown, in various tones continues In high favor. Low shoes of white buckskin are in high favor. Undersleevcs and chemisettes are now a feature of hot-weather fashions. At Longchamps the leading colors were white, lavender and shades of blue." Finish off the green foliage hat with a great knot of pale blue soft satin ribbon. Rainbow veils that is, a fancy mesh LIKELY TO LAST. black ve:!, against which a riot of color in chc-ills dcts of all thidfcs stand forth prominently are on view, but ' are too bizarre to be worn much. To tla cliTca rolls la a bow la the tack Is a later rsÜsn than to tia then, in front. Trirmir-j cf c:ft, lastrcn ctnw era ustd C3 c;tttj cf re", cci, Lt:j cr O ftta.

SOLDIERS' STORIES.

ENTERTAINING REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR. Graphic Account of Stirring Scenei Witnessed on Ibe DattleGeld and in Camp Veterans of the Rebellion Recits Exreriencea of Thrilling Nature. I was a private in an infantry regiment and we were sharply engaged at the battel of HatcheVs Run in Octo ber, 1SG4. If you ask me on what part ; or tne neid we fought, my answer would have to be that I hadn't the least idea. Pretty much all I can remember about what went before my capture is that there was a good deal of fighting and quite a number killed and wounded near me. But when jour line, or that part of it that I could see, fell back, there were only dead men left on the ground. Only dead men and myself; the wounded had got to the rear some way. Even those who were badly hurt had got off. I Eeo now that I never should have remained there, and If the thing were to be done again es, thank heaven. It never will be you may be certain that 1 would find some way to retreat Why I did -not is the most of the story of what led to my being taken prisoner. As to why our line fell' back you will have to find opt from some of the war histories. I couldn't see any occasion for it, though there may easily have been reasons for it that did not appear to me. We did not seem to me to be hard pressed, though we were losing men all the time, but, as I learned afterward from what I saw of the ground in front of us when taken over It, the enemy was losing, too. ... . But the order was given, and we retreated; all but me. I started with the others, when a strange accident prevented me. We were going through quite a stretch of woods, and I got my foot wedged between an exposed root and the ground. In my efforts to get It out, pulling and twisting it, the ankle got turned so that I could not stand on the foot or bear It on the ground. It was dreadfully painful, too. Some of my comrades looked back, tiisslng me from the ranks, and one cf them called out, asking what the matter was. I replied that It was nothing; that I had hurt my foot a little, but would catch up right off. Of course, had I called for help there would have been no lack of it, and my mistake was to take it for granted that I could get off alone. It was a mistake that cost me four months In Libby prison. . The pain Increased, and so long did I sit there on the ground, holding my ankle, that every soldier In blue had disappeared before. I made an effort to get up. I sat down again, groaning; I was no more able to stand up than 1 was to fly. Long afterward, when telling this experience, comrades said to me: "Well, you must have expected what was coming, and couldn't you endure the pain of moving long enough to get so far to the rear that you would be safe?" I can only say that I did, of course, expect what was coming; but if there had been reason to believe that death threatened me, instead of capture, I could not have moved a rod from where I was. The pain 'was so intense that I could not bear the idea of voluntary motion. A desperate effort might have saved me;' but I was no more capable of making the necessary effort than as though a minie bullet had gone through my body. It was not easy to measure time in such a situation; but It .must have, been half an hour at least that I sat there before I saw a living creature. Then I began to catch glimpses of soldiers In gray moving about in th woods. It was a Confederate skirmish line, advancing very, cautiously, evidently expecting to be fired on. I saw that they were dispersed all through the woods, moving in such a way as to keep sheletered by the trees as much as possible. As they advanced, one of them discovered me at the distance of perhaps two rods, and promptly covered me with his musket. ."Hold!" I said. "Don't fire; I am hurt, and couldn't get off." ,. He was auspicious of some Yankee trick, and came up with his gun ready for instant use. I told him my story in a few words, laying particular stress upon the fact that I could not walk a stetp or even stand upright He shouted to a sergeant, who also came and examined me. By this time my ankle was considerably swollen, and I had-no difficulty In making the sergeant believe the truth of my story. "I reckon it's as you say," he remarked. "First, I thought you was a .deserter; but, all around, you don't look nor act like It Miles, you stay with him till we get back." The skirmish line passed on, and it was about an hour before I saw. it again. In the meantime my guard, a solemn-faced, silent man in an old butternut sult sat down on the ground with his musket across his knees, and for somo minutes stared me In the ftce. His reflections at last found vent In. this wise: . "Tank, don't you wish you was at hom V - "Indeed I do," was my prompt and hearty reply. TU be d-d if I don't, too. Fact, I wish both of us were. Hand us that hag." That -bag was my haversack; containing at least , cne day's rations of hardtack and bacon. I passed it over to him, and his homely faco lighted up Joyfully when he discovered the contents. Then and there he devoured the whole, never asking me to partake. I was not hungry, and as he certainly was, the discourtesy was overlooked.. Perhaps there was nothing else for me to do but to overlook it I was taken up by four of the Ccafedtrate soldiers later la the day and carried bad mora than ft mil a. A doctor set and drcrced ray ankle, and the next day I entered Bichmond, bet not precisely In ths tray tha Ncrthra newspapers were predicting we wer ctct to enter that capital. I Cll rzl cz my regiment cgaln until tla fcllrrrt2g February. American TzCzrzt. Act Wcraan Wca at Cull Eci. lira. Lucinda Dc-an, now C7 yrira

old, who was ftn eyewitness of both! battles at Bull Run In the Civil War,! is sill I living at Groveton near the his-; torlc field. On the morning of the first' battle she was ordered from her home by one of JacJion's olücors, and before she had been gone ten minutes the artillery fire, preceding the heavy fighting, had opened. She was seemingly fascinated by the terror of the scene and never strayed from it. A railroad cut runs through the fanr, near her house. It was along tills graded way that Jackson formed his line for tho second fight The line of the railroad is well preserved to-day. The "ci ts"

are grown up in pine and cedar and the "fills" are also overgrown, but one may walk along the roadbed from Gainesville to Sudley. The particular "cut" where troops fought with clubbed muskets and stones is about 1,000 yards north of the Dogan house. Groveton Is one mile west along the Warrenton pike, from the central field of the first battle of Bull Brzn, and by standing on a hill a few rods from the Dogan house, one can see the Henry house and the Henry field where the Union advance, southward from Dudley, was' checked Sunday afternoon, July 21, 1S61, and where tha panic 6elzed the Union troops, Mrs. Dogan saw that battle. This old lady was a star, witness In the Congressional Inquiry, which reversed the findings of the court-martial In the Fltz-John Porter case. She testified that Longstreet and officers of his staff ate breakfast at her house early in the morning of Aug. 2S, and that his troops were coming down the pike from the direction of Gainesville. It was mainly her testimony which proved that Longstreet had Joined Jackson in the morning of that day, and thus that Longstreet was In front of Porter's corps, which jay behind Dawkins branch, about two mile3 south of Groveton. ' Bethel Church, which was Fltz-John Porter's headquarters, three miles north of Manassas, has been moved four miles to tho south, but the old foundation is visible. Little Tick Adventures. When we of the cavalry were falling back before Lee as he was headed for Chantilly and Bull Bun, a squadron of us that had been detailed to bring a wounded officer away from a house that would soon be in the possession of the advancing Confederates found ourselves shut up In front and rear. We numbered about thirty men, and had a two-horse ambulance in which the wounded man had been made as comfortable as possible. We had, indeed, advanced about a quarter of a mile before we discovered the box we were in. The Confederates who had come in behind us were cavalry, and owing to a turn in the road and a bit of woods, had not yet seen us. The lieutenant In command consulted with the major whom we were bringing, a way, and explained the situation. "Pipare me as well as you can for the ride, give me a revolver, and then form your men by fours and ride right down on the rebs and cut your way through," was the order of the major. I was in the advance set of fours, and the man on my right was next to the highway ditch. All of a sudden. Just as we were waiting the order to advance, a little negro boy, not over three years old and as black as the blackest tar ever made, appeared In Uie ditch alongside of Parker. He seemed to have been hiding in the weeds, and I think he must have fallen out of a car or got parted from the family as tüey were hurrying Into the Union lines before Lee's advance. At any rate, he was there and alone, and as we saw him, Parker said: "Good lands! -but here's a nigger baby right under foot and all alone! What shall we do with him?" At that moment we got the word to go ahead, and Parker leaned over, picked up the child, and placed him In front of the saddle. Two or three of us called to him to drop the boy, but he didn't do it As we moved forward "Pick" was there and hanging on for dear life, his eyes as white as raw onions and every tooth plain to be counted. We were right' on the rebels before they saw us, and it -was blffl bang! slash! and we opened a lan and went through, every horse on the keen run and the wounded. t nvijor firing away whenever he found a target for his bullets. When we finally got through 'Pick" was with us nd all right, and he had seen his first battle of the war. One would have said that he liked It, for his grin was broader than before and he did not seem a bit scared. During the bloody days that followed the little fellow vraa with a company wagon, and I did not see h for a week. Then Tf.rker took him down to Alexandria and left him with a colored woman, but a few months later, being made company commissary and having the use of a wagon, he brought Pick back to the army, got a tailor to make him a suit of clothes, and then the boy wai a fixture with us. He took to army life, and every one of the company took to him, and had any one misused Pick it would have gone hard with him. He was with us to the very last, and I saw him munching a hard tack and lookbag on while Lee's ragged old veterans laid down their arms at Aypomattox. He clung to Parker above all others, and although the trooper was a rough fellow and unmarried, the offer cf $100 for his little nigger, which was made over and over, was no temptation. When the war closed Pick . was taken north to Ohio, sent to school and then put to a trade and it was only, a month later that I walked in on him in a Cincinnati cooper shop and found him a lusty big fellow with a home and a wife and two children. He had never been back to Virginia, and although he had made many efforts to find his father and mother, not ti u-aca of them had ever been tecurcÄ. v "I reckon I Jlst dun got losted In d hrrry fcs explained, "an' de family: had to many odder chill en dat dsy düa' t nkf it werf while to step an look for cl" Detroit Free Prerx - Chens Ycrw Tons, former Lcerciiry of the Chlncsa coram Isslcn to the Ct Lcuis fair, fc-a published a volujna of posms rtlat!rc. In ths mi In, t th United Ztzz.