Tales of the picket-guard, or, The blue devils driven from camp
page: 0Illustration (TitlePage) [View Page 0Illustration (TitlePage) ]TALES OF THE PICKET GUARD; OR, THE BLUEDEVILS DRIVEN FROM CAMP. ' A COLLECTION OF STORIES TOLD BY THREE ROLLICKING BOYS ON PICKET GUARD 1864 page: 0-25[View Page 0-25] BARCLAY A OO. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. I '-AROGUN TaEB CAMLP-PBIS. TALES' OF THRIi CHAPTER I. WHLE our regiment was lying in winter quarters near .Culpeper' Court House my company was detached and sent out on picket duty for two weeks. As the rebels. were not intending any advance-move- ment, but were resting themselves after the hard campaigns of the previous summer and fall, our duties were not arduous. It seemed as if we were to be ,doomed to a very wearisome two weeks. In my company were two rollicking fellows, both of them old classmates of mine at Yale College. No livelier men were in the regiment than Jim Myers and Charlie Green; page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26- TALES OF THE .PICKET-GUARD. I Fortunately we were placed on the same outpost, and while always ready-for the tread of a rebel we were alike ready for Sun and amuse- ment. One day as we were cooking our mess, Jim broke out very suddenly: "I say, fellows, we must get up-some excitement or we will die here in less than three days." "Yes," rejoined Charlie, "these woods make me creep with horror every time I look around them."' "Ah! an idea strikes me,'" said I, "I tell you how we can pass the time Pleasantly. Let's agree to tell a good story every day after dinner." 4 Capital!" shouted Jim and Charlie, in the same breath. "We are agreed; and the man who tells a poor story will have to stand the watch of the other two." e' That suits me," I replied. "We will take turns every day, Let one story be told, and afterwards a few jokes and anecdotes will wind up the entertainment, which will be none else than the ' Tales of the Picket-Guard.'" Having swallowed our hard-tack and coffee, we sat down beside the blazing fire, and, our pipes being filled and lighted to satisfaction, I was compelled, being the originator of the scheme, to lead off with the following: MY REVENGE. We met in the beginning of the action, I and my enemy, Richard Withers--he on foot, I mounted. It matters not why I hated him with the fiercest wrath of my nature. "The heart kriorveth its own bitterness," and the details, while most painful to me, would be of trifling interest to you. Suffice it that our feud was not a political one. For ten years we were the closest intimates that the same studies, the same tastes, the same arms could make us. I was the elder of the two, and stronger physically; comparatively friendless, as the world takes it, and had no near relatives. Youtm, solitary, and visionary as wetwere, it is hard to make you understand what we vrere to each other. Up to. this period of our estrangement, working together, eating to. gether, sleeping together, I can safely say that we had not a grief, not a pleasure, or a vacation, that we did not share with almost boyish single heartedness. But one single day changed all. We rose in the morning dear friends, and lay down at night bitter foes. I was a man of extremes: I either loved or hated with the strength of my heart. The past was forgotten in the present. The ten years of kindness, of congeniality, of almost humanly kindness, were erased as with a sponge. We looked each other in the face with angry, searching eyes-said but * , * TALES O0 THE PICKET-GUARD. 27 few words (our rage was too deep to be demonstrative), and parted. Then in my solitude I dashed my clenched hand upon the Bible and i! vowed passionately: "I may wait- ten years, Richard Withers! I may wait twenty, thirty, if you will; but, sooner or later, I swear I shall have my revenge" . And this was the way we met. I wond'er if he thought of that day when he laid his hand upon my bridle-rein and looked up at me with his treacherous blue eyes.. I scarcely think he did, or he could not have given me that look. He was beautiful as a girl; indeed, the contrast of his fair, aristocratic face with the regular outline and red, curving lips, to my own rough, dark exterior, might have been partly the secret of my former attraction to him. But the loveliness of an angel, if it had been his, would not have saved him from me then. There was a pistol in his hand, but before he had time to discharge it, I cut at him with my sword, and as the line swept on like a gathering wave, I saw him stagger under the blow, throw up his arms and go down with the press. Bitterly as I hated him, the ghastly face haunted me the long day through. You all remember how it was at Fredericksburg. How we crossed the river at the wrong point, and under the raking fire of the enemy were so disastrously repulsed. It was a bad mistake, and fatal to many a brave heart. When night fell I lay upon the field among dead and wounded.- I was compara- tively helpless. A ball had shivered the cap of my right knee, and my shoulder was laid open with a sabre-cut. The latter bled profusely, but by dint of knotting my handker- chief tightly around it, I managed to stanch it in a measure. For my . knee it could do nothing. Con- sciousness did not forsake me, and the pain was intense; but from the moans and wails of the men about -- me I judged that others had fared i worse than I.- Poor fellows! there was .many a mother's darling suf- fering there. Many of my comrades M. lads of eighteen or twenty, who H had never seen a night from home until they joined the army, spoiled 2 - THE BLOW FROX A FRIEND, pets- of fortune, manly enough at - heart, but children in years and constitution, who have been used. , to have every little ache and scratch compassioned with an almost " page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] ,"2.8 - TALES OF THE P'ICKET-GIUAR'D. , extravagant sympathy-there crushed and dying, huddled together --some twhere they had weakly crawled upon their hands and knees --and never a woman's voice to whisper gentle: consolation. It was pitchy dark,-and a cold, miserable rain was falling upon us, the very heavens weeping over our miseries. Then through the darkness and drizzling rain, through the groans and prayers of the fallen men about me, I heard a familiar voice close to my side: "Water! water! waterl I am dying with thirst--if it be but a swallow--water!l For God's sake, give me water!" I recoiled with dismay. It was the voice of my enemy-the voice of Richard Withers. They were once very dear to me, those mellow tones; once the pleasantest music I cared to hear. Do you think they so softened me now? You are mistaken; I am candid about it. My blood boiled in my veins when powerless to withdraw from his de- tested neighborhood. Theze was water in my canteen. I had filled it before the last ball eame. By stretching my hand I could give him a drink, but I did not raise a finger.. Vengeance was sweet. I smiled grimly to myself, and said down in my secret heart: "Not a drop shall cross his lips though he perish. I shall have my revenge." - Do you recoil with horror? Listen how merciful God was to me. There was a poor little drummer on the other side--a merry, manly boy of twelve or thirteen, the, pet and plaything of the regiment.' There was something of the German in him; he had been with us from the first, and was reckoned one of the best drummers in the army. But we could never march to the tap of Charlie's drum again. He had got a ball in his lungs, and the exposure and fatigue, together with the wound, had made him light-headed. Poor little child I he crept close to me in the darkness and laid his cheek on my breast. May be he thought it was his own pillow at home; may be he thought it, poor darling, his mother's bosom. God only knows what he thought; but with his hot armsabout my neck, and his curly head pressed close to my wicked heart, even then swelling with bitter hatred of my enemy, he began to murmur ,in his delirium, "Our FatherTwho art'in heaven." ' . I was a rough, bearded man. I had been an orphan for many a long year; but not too many or too long to forget the simple-hearted prayer of my childhood-the dim vision of that mother's face over which the grass had grown for twenty changing summers. Something tender stirred within my hardened heart.- ,It was too dark to see the little face, but the young lips went on brokenly: "And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass ?'!!gaistus." I TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. ' ; It went through me like a knife-sharper than the sabre-cut, keener than the ball. God was merciful to me, and this young child was the channel of his mercy. "Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." I had never understood the words before. ' If an angel had spoken it could scarcely have been more of a revelation. For the first time the thought that I might be mortally wounded, that death might be nearer than I 'dreamed, struck me with awe and horror. The text of a long-forgotten sermon was in my ears: "It is appointed for all men to die, and after death the judgment." Worse and worse. What measure of mercy could I expect, if the same was meted out that I had meted unto my enemy. The tears welled into my eyes, and trickled my cheeks-the first that I had shed v since my boyhood. I felt subdued and strangely moved. The rain was falling still, but the little head upon my breast was gone. He crept away silently in the darkness. His unconscious mission was fulfilled; he would not return at my call. Then I lifted myself with great effort. TVe old bitterness was crushed, but- not altogether dead. "Water! water!" moaned Richard Withers, in his agony. I dragged myself closer to him. "God be praised!"I said with a solemn heart. "Dick, old boy- enemy no longer-God be praised I I am willing and able to help you. Drink and be friends." a It had been growing lighter and lighter in the east, and now it was day. Day within and day without. In the first gray glimmer of dawn we looked into each other's ghastly faces for a moment, and then a:Br THE PRAYER ON THE' BATTLE-FIRLD the canteen was at Richard's mouth, and he drank as only the fevered can drink. I watched him with moist eyes, leaning upon my elbow and forgetting the bandaged shoulder. He grasped me with both a hands. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 80 TALES OF THE PICKET GUARD. Blood-stained and pallid as it was, his face was ingenuous and beautifult as a child's. '"Now let me speak," he said, panting. "You have misjudged me, Rufus. Itwas all a mistake. I found. it out after we parted. I meant to have spoken this morning when I grasped your rein, but-but-,-" His generosity spared me the rest. The wound my hand had inflicted was yet bleeding in his head; but for the blind passion of the blow it must -have been mortal. Was vengeance so sweet after all? I felt something warm trickling from my shoulder. The daylight Owas gone again--how dark it was! "Forgive me, Dick," I murmured, groping about for him with my hands. Then I was blind-then I was cold as ice-then I tumbled down an abyss, and every thing was blank. "The crisis is past; he will- recover," cried a strange voice. "Thank God I thank God!" cried a familiar one. I opened my eyes. Where am I?. How odd every thing was l Rows of beds stretching down a long, narrow hall, bright with sun- !shine; and women wearing white caps and peculiar dresses flitting to and fro with noiseless activity, which in my fearful weakness it tired me to watch. WIy hand lay outside the covers-it was as shadowy as a skeleton's. What had become of my flesh? Was I a child, or a man? A body, or a spirit? I was done with material things alto- gether, and had been subjected to some refining process, and but now awakdd to a new existence. But did they have beds. in the other world'? I was looking lazily at the opposite one, when some one took my hand. A face was bending over. I looked up with a beating heart. The golden sunshine was on it-on the fair, regular features, and the lips, and the kindly blue eyes. "Dick!" I gasped, ' where have you been all these years?" "Weeks, you mean," said Richard, with the old smile. "But never mind, now. You are better, dear Rufus-you will liver-we shall be happy together again." It was more a woman's voice than a man's, but bick had a tender heart. "Wbere am I?"I asked, still hazy. "What's the matter with me 7" "E[ospital, in the first place," said Richard. "a Typhis,.in the second. You were taken after that night at Fredericksburg."' It broke upon me at once. I remembered that awful night-I could never, never forget it again. Weak as a child, I covered my face and burst into tears. Richard was on-his knees by my side at once. ' "I was a brute to recall it," he whispered remorsefully; "Do not i: th of it, old boy-you must not excite yourself. It is all forgotten and forgiven." TALES 'OF TEE PICEKT- ARD. 8. t s f' Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," I prayed from my inmostrheart. "Those words have been in your mouth day anda night, ever since you were taken," said my. friend. I lay silent, cogitating. "Tell me one thing," I asked. "Are we in the North, or South?" 4 North. In Philadelphia."' Then'you are a prisoner," I said, mournfully, recalling his prin- ciples. '"Not a bit of it." "What do you mean?" Richard laughed. "I have seen the errors of my ways. I have taken the oath of allegiance. When you are strong enough again we shall fight side by side." "And the wound in your head?"I asked, with emotion, looking up at his bright, handsome face. "Don't mention it I It healed up long ago." "And the little drummer?" Richard bowed his head upon my hand. "He was found dead upon the'field Heaven bless himl They said he died praying, with his mother's name upon his lips." 'Revere him as an angel 1"I whispered, grasping him by the hand. "But for his dying prayer we had yet been enemies 1" "A good story," said Jim, knocking' the ashes out of his pipe, "but we must have a few jokes after that. So here's my attempt: "You all recollect old Judge Jonah Jones. Well, he delivered a charge once in court that was a charge. Elim Crunch, an old vagabond, was being tried for theft. At the conclusion of the counsel's argument, the old judge, brushing up his thinly scattered hair, and rubbing his very red nose, delivered the. following charge to the jury: -' "'Jury, you kin go out, and don't show your ugly mugs here till you find a verdict-if you can't find one of your own, git the one the last jury used.' "The jury returned, and after an elapse of fifteen minutes, returned with a verdict o' Suicide in the ninth degree and fourth verse.' "Then Judge Jonah 'Jones pronounced Elim irunch this sentence: "'Elim Crunch, stan' up and'face the music. You 'are found guilty of suicide for stealing. Now-this court sentence you to pay a fine of five shillings, to shave your head with a bagganet, in the barrickks:and if you try to cave in the heads of any of the jury, you'll catch th:ii, i that's all. Your fate will be warning to others; and the conolgsriom, page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 82 -TALES OF THE PICKtT-GUAT RD. mayrthe Lord have mercy on your soul. Sheriff, get me a pint of red/ 'eye. I am awful thirsty.'" "A big thing on the judge," interrupted Charlie, "I hope he didn't have as much trouble in getting elected as another judge I used to I know out West. Squeers was his name, though he never spelled it twice the same way. Old Squeers came upon a poor white man, who had a vote, although just at that time he was milking his cow, Squeers thought he would gain a little favor with the old man, so he asked him if he should hold the cow, which seemed to be uneasy, and the old man consenting very readily, he took her by the horns, and held fast until the operation was done. "'Have you had Robinson (his rivaD around here lately?' he asked. "'Oh, yes. He's behind the barn, holding the calf."' "Very good, boys, we are succeeding admirably; let my story con- clude our day's fun. TRYINO TO OET INTO FAVOR. "When I was coming from New York to Philadthia, a ypear ag in thb midnight train, the following incident occurred: "Among the passengers was a tall, dark, nervous looking man, who was npatient as the cars stopped at the way station, and moved slowly and carefully along. He cast angry glances at the conductor who waas : laying baok' for another stop. When the cars reached Passaic and ' the nervous man found that the speed was not increased, he called to ' the conductor, compelled that individual'to bend his head as though TALES OF THE PICKET-OUARD. 3D to receive a communication of some moment, and hoarsely whispered: "'How-much do you get for the job?' "Sir ' said the conductor, again looking at the man as though desirous of enlightenment. . "' How much for the job?' again asked the nervous man. 'Does it come cheaper than hacks?' "A stare was the only Answer. "'Whose body is it?" continued the nervous man, stuffing a fresh piece of tobacco into his mouth. "IBody, sir I what do you mean, sir?' "' Why, ain't this car following a hearse?' "'No,' answered the astonished conductor. "' Oh, I thought it was, judging by its speed.' "The conductor pulled the rope and' he car went ahead with a rush." CHAPTER II. FELLOWS," said Jim, "I have; a story for you today which I com- posed last night when about half asleep.' I shall -tellit to you as if I were reading it from a manuscript. Are your.-pipes full and puffing well? if so-I will proceed." We nodded assent, and Jim told the following with no interrupfio save when he stopped to relight his pipe. THE ORDEAL OF BATTLE. "And this is your final decision, Miss Clay?" She was a beauty born, that rose-mouthed little Rachel Clay, with her large. wistful eyes trembling with blue, radiant light, like a veiled cheek stained with popmegranate crimson-an empress of hearts from' her cradleup I And sitting in, the framework of roses" that ' trailed athwart the casement, with white ribbons fluttering from .her satin brown curls, and one red jewel flashing among' the folds of her muslin dress, you would alnt have fancied her some fair pietutil saint. Harry Cleveland was leaning against the window, a tall, handsome young fellow, with dark eyes and hair, and a brown cheek,.ftlshed deeply with suppressed anger and- mortification. ' , ' , * , )',; ," ^ page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] "Yes Mr. dellandr i;t,"is said; Bahei, calmly. lifting .her, lear eyes to hiPs sce.( "You have asked me for ;my reasons--and, although I qaestion your right to, make such a:deman .still,. I hve no objec- tions to render themf . '.: .i - ,. " Speak on,". said Harry,;bitinghis lip fuiPuasly, :,.let me know why I am condemned." . "Theyare soon spoke," said Roehel, qmietly. .JI have liked you very: much, Mr. Cleveln-tstill like you-but in the man whom I marry I look for greater firmness aiMf dee'ion of opurpose than you have ever displayed. Earnestniess, resove, .these are the only qualities that I can respect. Do y ouimibder st ad do yo suppose ,that I blame you for the lack o, qfcfual oations whiehwhi ch--" Rachel paused instibtively,;while-,the; pomegranate tinge on her Aheelk blazdd int vvii, rSe/alet, in sympathy with the deep: blush that dyed her lover's whole face. He bowed simply, and walked out s of the room with a firm, haughty step, Late that evening .he sat at his window, with clenched teeth and lowering brow, watching the ifiery embers of sunset fade 'into the purple gloom, and noting the silver of innumerable constellations as they followled one another over the blue concave of heaven. But the gleam of sun aniL stars might have been Egyptian darkness for all he knew or cared about their gentle influences. "4Lifel" he murmured darkly to himself, " what is it worth to me now,? 1 Iiat eafe I who wins the, glittering prizes in fate's lottery, Odr who is.. ejeeta ;nd. for;,a 'mere whim too!. If I could -onl gether as 'quickly as. she will forget me I the .fickle, beautiful en- cha'nress" . . r J . , ' : Hf.'r io,l Olvelan dl 'rm^0ing' to6 61l on pretty ,Rachel Glay. Will yoquei0mr go5ga' too.?" '- r. /Catin Moo r rt hl paused uider'the window, with his brown, "traetr 4r f,.ii;t' . gas-lamp :flickering over his ,' g',^-s^hoPU lErCtt, p/ -[, - * ' s. ' ,;^ t, Aiil^^^ t 'hi?' Ofcigar gleaming, 1 g t r ob ,"e lth -his d-hwti ifor schas-ha TA UaS oy -THHE PICicKET GUAD 3U5D The Squire gazed T'fi to ^ nts hment. after the. vanishing, figure- of Harry leveland oii hOroeback-as it disappeared among the trees. "I wonder what Rabi W ill: sa," was his uspoken comment. But Rachhel sa'd: noii n.g., While, day bo d^y),.th4ld aound rauledand grew sorerin ]Harr Cleveland's heart.- "Will he live, Doctor?" Every pulse in' Rachgel .C layt. ing seemed to stand still, as her blue, dilated eyes searbhed th'e doctor's kind, sun-brOwned face. "Live? Whgy ashtmIdun'i h0; a11 he n'eeds i a little tare, and -I see he-is likely to glet that; Nw-aon't blush up, my dear, he's not: th-e first soldier in my .ward th , has a pretty girlcome to nurse him, Od I like them all the better for il ' Give himi,the draught when, he: whkes, and keep the bandage on his forehead. He'll probably carry an' ugly scar to his grave [. but that 4.will bo the worst of it."' -The good old man. troted bri'skly awy to the next "case," while Rathel, kneeling down beside the low-iroe bedstead, cried tears of. intense thankfulness that Harry Cleveland would not die., 'Bachel I am not dreaming surely-yet it was but a moment ago we made that cavalry charge on fiaged bayonets!" 4 is large, unnaturally brilliant, eyeswandered vaguely around. the r rf--and then returned. to the tender face bending ovjr him. "t' was three dayssimce, ,deatrest; you are. lyinginthe baracks now, weitnded, and I have comea from loenville- to, nurse you I' "You, Rachel?" . ' "Yes, Harry, I!"I " . "Why did you come?" he asked quite gloomily. ' t " Because I' love'ybu, Harry," she nmarmred he right orimson suffSing her whole face. . , strange light of raptnre flajsh. ihta a-ri:eeS-h pulse leaped within the fevered veins; . . . "Love me, Bahel-Ye /it is .not ax aH -, ^ Dearest, because, I ; .- oH! -:e5I]s ih. (.]' y smoke of the battleo ielou hI. obW . ... ,: t tenderest love-you ha . though sanguine rolls t i:- - . yont once, you will not ,'il tA W ' , tReject you, my hea=rt tt this is not a brighg' r tid U7; i'i't*; *.' She benthei soft:." ... . fwless vision, but,4'ii a The: yo::d;iu ..... O!01"' . page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 86 TALES OF 'THE. PI;0cKV-it A-BRD m t' I never cared for any one but you, Harry i" And when September hung her crown of purple mist over the hills, 'Harry Cleveland came home to be married, still handsome, although his forehead bore a fresh scar across its broad expanse. When the villagers asked curiously if it was a life-long mark, Harry answered gayly- "I would not lose it for a fortune; that scar won me a wife!" HEROISM OF GENERAL BUTLER'S WIFE. "Women are a great institution,'" said Charlie, as he brushed away as honest a tear as ever a soldier shed* "I tell you their devotion to us poor devils is a wonder. Yes, they are not only devoted, but sometimes I think they are a mighty sight more courageous than us men. The other day I was reading a description of the coolness of General Butler's wife in a storm off Hatteras, in which the Mississippi, having on board General Butler and his wife, together with his staff and a regiment of soldiers on their way to New Orleans, came near being lost. "This account of the storm was written by Mrs. Butler herself:" Again the men formed in line, from hold to deck, and baled water all night, the seas, roaring, phosphorescent, gleaming as a serpent's back, struck the quivering ship like heavy artillery. The dread was, when she plunged into the trough of the sea, and the waves swept OV0r! her, that she would founder and go down. We turned our course njorth to run with the wind, which blew from the southwest; we kept indit that night and through the next day until twelve o'clock, when . tli:ESt0rm was so broken that we turned short about, ran up three sails, a-dilew down the coast like. abird past Cape Hatteras, Point Lookout, down to Cape Fear. We, *ere at breakfast congratulating each other on our escape from :: ,sthormi the delightful weather, and the rapid speed we were making; : ^ilt::he table :a moment, and was in my room preparing to go on ,;a ,e*rwhen th^woaae i a surging, grating sound from the bottom of (:: Ltp,::ip A:puxs? the en gines stopped-(a hush of dread Ithroug. '-uthitesM'p),itworked:agaitn.-another heavy lurching and quivering , dtti::. he engine stopped. We were aground on Frying ::. ':: i:J miles from: shore ; the coast held by the enemy; si;*,-Isi^"b4 and sixteen hundred people on board.* * * ?B'i,? W rl ;,ily b dev'iing, and executing ways to get I:.:::::,:::::::.. d: i{::w:id-' : forsails :at 'every 'point, for, there, in truth, - : hi. p :. Atlait one appeared -in sight. Signals :':"^:!: ' t'po"d( to 6hoist i with the union down. 7'::.'"WU:phist T-,hi . et Xg PISE T G-UARD. ,37 "Not so," said. Geneai Butler, "let the union go up." uns weroe girewtZ tsh Vour distress, though apprehensive she mig t prove a r.:...e:, Ber, a.,e, be' foreed to fight in our crippled state , or ieldrit was now late in the iIt was O i t r thetafted,:,nn We ran on at full tide, and must wait a ....rat ' e ,'So# tq evening, before w could hope to pull her off. A hawser was t ethd to the other vessel, and the soldiers Two or three hundred men were already sent to the Mount Vernont The wind began to rise, and. the waves to swell into the havy seas 1thatlooked so dark and wrathfut, .Q enera Butler came to se and "You must make ready to go- ia a few minutes." Captain Glisson was about to run to his own vessel, and would take me with him., The gen-era!'s dqty ,ud be to remain until every rap was safe, or while the ship held t ogther. Thiswa clearenough, EBd I only saidt . . .. "I would rather remain here; if' ,you are willi-ng." T know not why, but I felt, more safety where 1 was than in that itlhe boat-tossiin themad waves, or in he strange vessel in eh0 ristaance. t , "Why do you think of suoh a thing?," 'he said; "are you mad, that you would risk to the children tyhe!os. of both?" "I will go," I answered, "when the captain is ready,'" General Butler went away to the pilot house, TTe ship was boat. ing heavily in the surf, and men's hearts beat heavier still as the ight swept toward us. The deck was ro-ded it a me r, Major :Bellgav r, me his arm. There was a move-a , make .way for s, Bti.'; I was helped over the railing. (One man spoke o ," Wellif a an kan keep cool, it wil be strange ifwe Oan't.") .Captain , Giason pre. ceded me down the side of theo ship, and aided aweeas oh asin thae, The boat was tossing like a nutshell far below, asdown he utdy ladder we slipped. When nearly. at the'botomathe- ...':.: "Jump, mad am, we'll caoh ou nd wn .-'. 'Pull, men-be livel y, the captain 0alledmout evser few inutes. A' w da av e leaped up and drenhed the man a' ' t: i"le:' ". .. ."::" but the captain urged the greater 'speed,s i u , ... .. te were aboard the Mount Vernon, . '?: : ' iThe MississiBppi was finthot A : " ' ouit, and did anmch to qbet hhe":ap ", " ,.j!":':of'hS:r:-'*2 '":: uswued tomd t he dangers of the"s:,':ti,: :. "-":.N.- ' , o g e." -. , . k.: cool i t W. el, .-i. ..a.... e: e' e:' dw. t :e" . = ='= :"' o t'- 's p a' o :pr page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 .ALS OF TER PIK .- ABD. . . A 'P' FAST , S peak ing o f women," I said, " reminds e of I musthiioate a lithe ware. I was away to the sTs as hi I ' ,- oeturo oad bumblre hnservia ; sO gaint and, gay, in me brass kote and blu e buttonhs, ow'd her pump-handles aronA Ine nec- imed I uF as they was fair, rouPd ue--'elimed' it Doo beholdd Ithiuk yo 'are holdin' me too fastiy," sez 1, a trying "rOshbs, have you um a backhave you ca m as h g rate ightl enrr to yneck. Certainly I've cum back, orelse I woul think I know YU tnuclly' a Belletta-shewho has ,ot know me-your own Claretta Rosetta seleonta-sdh placwh nhit sot eyes unto yu for mo up int yeYes," she cotinke, plain' hd iet hands ontoi my s shoaes, and bluebuttnsand telookin'p her-yb-andyes ono my e own Alfrecd's eyes, his nos eil arh- hsfely y5s, I, s e,exe e lmeEf m not mistaken, these, eyeses , ain ie, ys "iooa'y ur Alfreel never owne iat eev sc oaurcly. C are in. Cum into the house ayu I urn han ^7g .ti^hter } . McClellan Beazer.? -rr adam,' se9 I, 1L: XCUe mB) but alldw me to correct YU TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 89 It was evident that the femail -was mistaken; that it was not me, but another man she wanted. "How old is he2" sez I. "Which?" sez she. "The little son, Lincoln Burnside MeClellan and so 4th." "He's just 6 months old, the little darlia'." '"Well, madam," sez I, " ef Little Lincoln Burnside McClellan and so 4th is only 6 nyanths old, and yu havn't. sot eyes on your Alfred for mor'n tew y ars, I think thair's a mistake somewhair, an' that I'm not Alfred, but another man altogether." The woman shot into the house like 60, and this was the last I saw of my Claretta Rosetta Belletta, but I pity Alfred. CONTRIBUTIONS TO A SANITARY PAIR: "How the women have worked for us during this war!" said Jim. "Here is a letter from my sister describing how some of the articles were marked at'a fair recently held for the benefit of the Sanitary Commission :" Thus, on a homespun blanket, worn, but washed as clean as snow, was pinned a bit of paper which said: "This blanket was carried by Milly Aldrich (who is ninety-three years old) down hill and up hill, one and a half miles, to be given to some soldier." On .a bed-quilt was pinned a card, saying: "t My son is in the army. Whoever is made warm by this quilt, which I have worked on for six days and most all of six nights, let him remember his own mother's love." On another. blanket was this: "This blanket was used by a soldier in the-war of 1812--may it keep some soldier warm in this War against traitors." On a pillow was written: "This pillow belonged to my little boy, who died resting on it; it is a precious treasure to me, but I give it for the soldiers.". On a pair of woollen socks was written: "These stockings were knit by a little girl five years old, and she is going to knit some more, for mother says it will help some poor soldier." On a box of beautiful lint was this mark: ",Made in a sick room, where the sunlight has not entered for nine years, but where God has entered, and where two sons have bid their mother good-bye as they have gone out to'the war." On a bundle containing bandages was written: 1"This is a poor gift, but it is all I had; 'I have given my husband and my boy, and only wish I had more to give, but I hav'n't." page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 . TALES OF THE. PICKET-GUARD. On some eye-shades were marked: "Made tly one who, is blind. (Oh, how I long to see the dear old fag that you are all fighting under.' A FAISTrONAR F!. WiuDING. "I think," continued Charlie, "that we may as well conclude our freside talk with an odd description of a wedding which I wrote long before I thought of shouldering a musket. Perhaps one of you can set it to music: "'Four and twenty bridegrooms all in a row; Four and twenty dandies dressed from top to toe; Four and twenty grimaces, four and twenty smiles; And the carriages extending four and twenty miles. Four and twenty bridesmaids dressed in hoop and feather, Eight and forty Nimshies standing all together. The bride ringed and jewelled, The groom gloved and glum, And both of them look foolish, And both of them are dumb; A thousand spectators To see the pretty match; A thousand tongues to whisper, He made quite a catch; Eight and forty ninnies Marching out of church, Like so many school-boys Running from the birch: Oh, what a sight to look upon as ever I did see i The world makes a great fuss for nothing, seems to me.' "One word," said Jim, "before we "part. I wish to give you' one of my ideas when a school-boy. It is this: the man who' plants a birch-tree' near a school-house, little knows what he is conferring on posterity." CHAPTER III. - . "Nubbs," said my companions, as the rain pattered upon our rubber blankets, " this is a dreadful dreary day, and we must have a ghost story something exciting, with a woman or two mixed up in it, and any thing else horrible." - "Well," I replied, "I cin just suit you, and have a story in my vind which bill make you puff those pipes more vigorously than you ever did before' It is titled. ABIDE tWTH DRpTID "j DaRID WI ?DEATtt, Olt TIIE SK:CILETOI OF'T CIEE During the winter of 1859 I wa jn O ' RE COLLENew England colleges, and a' 'Was a juniorr in somewt scndaing the hill of S iI one of the New by irtations and adventures. Whether I was a good or bad scholar has little to do with my present purpose, but in orer to assure mysef. of the confidence of the public Iwil say tha .bo assureferring to thef aichives of said institution you will find my nae nege to tha acters as a recipient of a hep y name i legible char ipurpose to follow this imperfect but sufficient introduction with an incident in my college-life, which has never failed to exor acertain influenceover me, and am daily reminded of it by a grinning skull which hangs up in my bedroom. One winter evening, after going over to the college buildings and satisfying myself that there was no special "'scrape" on hand for that night, I returned to my room and concluded that I would con- duct myself in a studious and quiet manner. It had been snowing all day, but now the sky Was clear-and the stars shining brightly seemed to envy the moon as she thre- her gentlerays through the snow-ladened elmt h po n the st eeSh below. Lo o my window I saw he merry sleighs dashing by, some led with quiet love-makers, others over-burdened with boisterou studenr evidently out for a frolic, while on the opposite side of the street lay the city cemetery with its sad monum en ibg as it were the enjoyments of the hets of e dead, mck. I fond it fully concurred in the petition Openinag moy poket-book "Lead 'us no t into. tempation seig, Ind dnowing that love was inadequate to procure a horse and sleigh, Idonned my wrapper and slippers and prepared for intellectual Accordingly I took from my' brary of ancient and modern worthies "tamilton's 1otaphyWs ics,k but considerng that a smoke was first ii , order, my pipe was quickljyf lled with Turkish, a good old rooking. -M2'iiS 'S -"-M ].iM.,i,] 6hair drawn up before the glowing9 grate,'and my study rablo placed t mty left, with a kerosene lamp hrowig out a mild and pleasant ight. Lighting my pipe, and seatin m lienee or imagination could In-:g- Myself as9 eoMi tably as 'te die8- Now I ould -uggest, lmindulged inlazythOgt: mc0'es. Now I would make aring (an ancompli-,m n"r thexthto340 molcers only), a i'en of dexterous "okors only), and as it sailed slowly toward the ceil in r e * imaginary axis, gradually expandinl . a .lg oln o any little ctO fill the rOOm i th, g; ha . alybekni o fi t I t h u r o o m w'-,. page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 TAL'S OF THE h;-ICETW GUARD. castles, I imagined each of them made more beautiful byher whose black eyes, peering through the smoke-wreaths, threw gentle glances and' then vanished. coege. Whether I gain, Iwould speculate upP my course1 college intio er would graduate with onor, passing successfully m exminations, and clothe myself with the dignity of an alumnus . Whether the r wotd reeive m .kindly) or was it cold and selfish as I had heard. wottld receive atneiyi or wa, gray-haired men say it was, who, watchworn and weary, had experi ened its hardships and, lying down to die, had longed to live no more, for life to them was bitterness an in oe. While musing thus I was startled by, a rap at my door, and in came the old janitor of the medioal college, "Captain Cook." Why he w surnatne "Captait "I am unable to say. erhaps because like the mythical ferryman of the lower regions he was interested in the dis- posal of dead bodies. oWell, Captain," said I, looking at him through a dense cloud of moke, what is the latest news from your abode of dead men's bones and empty skulls? An new subject arrived for the unskilful knife ofsome heartless?'medil' Come old mortality, take a pipe and tell fme some horribtala eabout wal king skeletons enveloped wit sul phulous smoke that haunt your chamber every night, theirror anig dess s'Okets peering over your bed and filling your soul With terror and 16ngiigs .or the light of dayghost ,ca'd tlihe Captain -ling his short ebony pipe, "no ghost o r thisold coon Oh, no I they all know me. to ever gl.^ tig^e- es for : - I 2't; boiled down bodies and strung their bones upon wires for - - n .I..te y oa o ftoie 8 a man has died, been hacked to pieces by ndthi'.. e y , warm b ath in my old, , oaf n' , 9ie ganttdent ,r , take ;'bai]it: and:finally been strung onwires--if 'e a in't dead after /: !ok ktlei.^ i. ni' be rettd y afiult for him to stand the night air. i-[: t fl est tU w!.,p i .. . ad. .at e in a low, chuckling laugh, ;i:- :.,: ' 'andat thi he had fully established a physiologicat fact ':":";':":':":^ fove Por^ ^ead'" a conclus o gW^ ^ ^ ^ia arrivo withless argument than the Oaptain's., ^.C^^ ^ w^Bh . oa manner: ,Pato,thou reasonest -. ;a:i: :: rotIanya h ,w e its from:.as i the spirit-land. ,'i i,!a^st;night I was awaskened by the sweetest :^:"::-dne,s a &8. yf ance, but coming nearer ana ige4,b': m,e right over my bed. &uiety. turnin '.;:.. : [my'!/e '"arer",isa^j^(.^"[ bauti ision. Angels were bearing home X'v i J,3 wa, of the earth a. As they ' :wings, fiffing the air with the most a ,4 -: om a had been perfedtly motionless, TALES OOF t T. H T PGICKET- AB D. 43 turned toward me and, smiling, whispered: ' Farewell. All is peace: I am confident it looked exactly. like my mother. And so excited was I by the resemblance that I could not sleep, but walked my room all night, now praying that my mother's life might be spared for many years, and again laughing at my fears and consoling myself that it was only a vision and perhaps a dream." : "Oh, gas I:' interposed the Captain. " Some baby dream. . Do you suppose that you are of so much consequence that angels would take the trouble to tell'you what they are going to do?--- If so, I shall have to engage your board over at the asylum. Now, Bob, if you really want to have a good time, come with me to-night. I am. going over to the B-- Poor-house, about half-past eleven o'clock, to get a couple of dead bodies. I have a horse and sleigh and plenty of good Santa Cruz, and if we don't have a jolly ride it will be because our companions ain't sociable. Come, my boy, no excuses.' You must go. Such a chance don't come around every night. Wellt, do say, how pale you lookl You ain't afraid, are you?" "No, Captain, I. was merely thinking of that dream. But I will go You may expect to see me over at your;den in good season. In tkh meatimre I will just run over my lesson'for to-morrow. 'IDity before pleasure,' as Abraham: said to Isaac whea n he was carrying the wood : for the sacrifice. Mind you do not taketoo much Santa Cruz, for in that case you might become an unsociable companion." "That will be all right," replied the Captain; :' but doyou take Oare that you don't keep me waiting by trying to figitre, out that visi6o before you go.' Refilling his pipe ho wient away,( Heahvinog bhind hia a train of smoke which seemed to me to be filld :riflia X th 4st little dancing skeletons. - I 'l " :- / After he had gone, I said to myself: i' This trulywiie an ture-a sleigh-ride with death"-and as 66 th ugt ofi t0t&p; ami was tempted to pay--".and the devil." T'aving" :iouei l'":' I the possibility of the existence of ghost: I: it t :"/. : ' be a good opportunity. to test the truth of 'i $:ow :.Mu t. -^ never could accomplish such a ride witutn met supernatural. Deciding that I wouldti " i. down my Metaphysics and prepared::ii" :4. . ;ilo' morning. Soon I became absorbedo ia 84,a X p8E . eslos How does a man know that. he knifa) I 'k; ," many latent ideas would be developfuyq i' equally attractive bundles of hay: 'l: iip;^'l:-?: a building a free-will agent, o7r ha :':: .A': . While I am thus engaged doaS." ?:, '-, Refuted, Reid's Doctrine Disap ip ^ ?i:I " :: page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. Adam Smith, etc., I would call the reader's attention to the following sketch of my friend the Captain. The Captain was a very original character, both in his appearance and conduct. Long, red hair fell in tangled locks upon his shoulders. Hiq face red with the evaporation of Santa Cruz rum was rendered more. unseemly by ao short, grizzly beard, while two restless eyes, shaded by an old slouched hat and set far back in his head, looked out upon you with such a sly, wicked glance that your soul was filled with fear and you imagined there stood before you some old pirate whose hands were stained with the blood of a thousand innocents. He had been janitor of this medical college for forty years, and could tell you many a sickening tale of bodies stolen from their quiet resting- place and stowed away at night in the cellar of that old building to be prepared for the dissector's knife. How he loved to visit country graveyards when nature blushing in all the beauties of spring called upon relatives and friends to cover with flowers the quiet resting- places of those they mourned, and when with tears they leaned upon "the tomb-stone and sighed for the same repose, he had laughed to think the grave had been emptied long ago by his own hands, and the forms so much loved by them ruthlessly seized from their calm repose while the tones of the funeral bell still lingered on" the midnight air. He seemed to have lost all sympathy for the good and beautiful. So many years he had walked among the dead that the "King of Terrors" by him was never feared. No thought had he of immor- tality, or life beyond the grave sacred to the service of God. 'He had but one companion of his solitude. It was a small black. bottle filled with his-favorite Santa Cruz. Barnaby Rudge was not more attached to Grip, the omnipresent raven, than was the Captain to this bottle. . He wore a pea-jacket with a capacious pocket for its express accommodation, and watched it as if it was the palladium of his. liberty. , . .. hy I: had taken utch a fancy to this man I cannot tell. Although - (tffard:ahim still .I could nbot resist the temptation to associate with ^i$ and^ taony. houts have I enjoyed in hearing his wild and curious */ *I'd, * i- -, ' 'e, e . . ,U dJ t X ,; . ' i, :,' " Y "'I Z' "l^", K e":"- " '" " ' -" % " I' 1 ,'. '* ,. TALEs OPF rv D/ O THE PIoKET-GA RD.4 'Ls OP TB1 PICP T TyARD D 45 CHAPTER IV. HAVING fortified myself with cigars, a Colt's-rdvolver, and "alittle for the stomaoh's sake," I set out for the Captain, who, by the way, lived in the basement of the medical college building which imm edi- 1Yel adljoins the cemetery, a eal atey wadoin s cicemetery, a circumstance no less curious than appro- priate. I was cnfident tha, if we-were stopped on the road I Could ^^^^^ol aih my identity as a student, peaceably if possible, forcibly if necessary, as warlike men say. "1illoa, Bob! I was just goingoverafteryou Jurain, No time to lose. Dead people, yrou know .. . . . y Hot^^ ,. p^ Pny boy. wa^ th us saluted ., are mighty punctual.", I was thus salute vby the C aptain, seated in a double sleigh, reins ibnd hand axious to be off. We were soon on our way; and driving rapidly through the streets, meeting here and. there parties returning froni'some pleasure-excursio e T^ ^ ^ arono e u- e ion, we emerged from the city, and flying along the turnpike we soon found Ourslves ravelling alone and in soitary places. We had some twelve milesto g and soon thejgling bells became, ver monotonou al d s ejing ry monotonous, so [ determined upon havi ng a talk with my old companion. Lighting a Cigar--could no persuade the Captain to take one, since he refterred his pipe-I said him: "tCapti ... ' MMer Captain, who are these people hat we a sre going after? Tell me whether their friends know about you r errand go-igh.,t "Friends!releth alr your err-and to-haib. "Friends!" replied the Captain, looking a mewithasneer ,ho ever heard of poor-,ouse people having friendseBut 1 uppse'r h ad friends, how much better off would they beow serrve them a bit better. The .g7 e t p, grave, you ' - thief, and Christian, all alikethe Wormsuw" r a'iti',:.: , .: " it "and the Capta, aking a lon da t:. .::'. the black bottle, broke . .out into a I gt f,. 'Vry hills. ,ug rOA m: to,";: ^me, aptain,^ less moralizing - And' , ^i: : A -,:;' . ompanions--do you buy them?" , :o. ^,;,ti ,:-l la^ ^ lttIab4yeZ;- "Yes,' said the CasptaiD Rii dla ce IBi aakes me feel bad . I think : , y' subjects, used to ....:::tmu ... ".. u under atch forft fan .. " :' :'. " .. ,,':... ut under the sod for ten miles :.r"' ' -,',, You see that moono. Ius.. - ' ,'.-: %ndy With so much light, Ahd ma y 4'ng brightlY' on new-made" 'r Oki ' 8 .J 02 Il e . . ..." " :. . , :.-.. . ;,.f .1- :,, , ..:,t,-. page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " T ALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. * Every tiling is built up around here, and instead of burying people in the country they are laid away in the cemeteries under lock and , key. This new way of doing things has made the Captain's spade rusty and his resurrection wagon of no account. There's one of the evil effects of civilization for you!" and the Captain lashed the horses as if they haid been the instigators of theie improvements in the science of burial. "Captain," I asked, " are these bodies male or female?" "One is a-man, the other a woman," replied the Captain. "I feel kind of bad for the man, but I am glad the woman is gone. I wish every woman was dead. I hate women. Yes, I hate 'em--don't I, Santa?" said the Captain, addressing himself to his bottle. As .he replaced it I judged from his manner that he had received a satis- factory reply. "Is there any thing or anybody that you love? You seem bereft of every kind feeling and sympathy. How can you bear to lie down and die, knowing that you have never loved or kindly-treated your fellow-man, and that no one will ever mourn your loss or drop a flower upon your grave?" ' Bob," said the Captain, " take the reins and I will tell you a secret which' has never left my breast for twenty years, and your friendship is the pledge of secrecy hereafter: "Full thirty years ago'* * * * * * * * she turned toward me with a countenance full of sio'row and love and said: 'I forgive you all, b ut will never return. Farewell.' Soon her form. was lost in the distance as'she rapidly hurried away from one who should have been her best friend and protector.. I went back to our room. It was a bitter ct&ld night; and as I lay down upon my bed I could but wonder where she'would,go for shelter. I slept; and waking on the morrow I found I was indeed alone. She who had sacrificed so much for me, : and with all: my faults loved me as no mortal ever loved, was gone. ; Aye, 'driven away by my, own hand, and never again to return. As I ponaered over it I grewi more hardened, and hated her worse than ever. through .her' hated all women, and wish them evil. Since then X have lived alone, no friend but Santa until .you came to college. ': ;So cri hforiy secret." "Well, Captain,?' I replied, no wonder that you hate women. We dislike those whom we have injured. Their very presence, o it'lls UP our own misdeeds, becomes unbearable. Therefore it :"i:ri, tuiail:tha t you, after such cruel treatment of your best friend, I;':. 'ild ite,:not only her, but those who remind you of her. Ah, X ; fortune-teller could easily predict your fate." '/,:;^:*:;...'llek rapidly approaching the town. Staid-looking farm-houses : 2, -ALEJ S OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 47 with their air of homeliness and virtue were gradually giving plaoe to the more modern and neat-appearing houses of a New England village. We passed through the sleeping village, and as we neared the outskirts a light was visible in the distance. The Captain, rousing himself from the stupidity into which my moral dissertation on his character had evidently thrown him, pointing to the light, said. '" That's the poor-house, Bob. / There's where paupers live high at the expense of other people, and die in the midst of comfort. If you are ever in want of a home here is a safe retreat and plenty of victims to keep you company." " Captain," I replied, "I think, from all accounts of the benevolence of such institutions, their unstinted charity and kindness, I' should much prefer the application of cold-steel to my jugular and a com. fortable suicide."' "I hope they'll tote them bodies out mighty sudden," said the Captain as we drove up to the door ofa large, dingy-looking house, which seemed to have "pauper" written on its very door-stones." "Well, you're a nice man,ain't you, ke'eping pious folks up till midnight," said a sharp voice, as a woman appeared at the door hold. ing a candle in one hand and with the other protecting it from the wind which threatened every mo-. ment to extinguish it. From her appearance I immediately. con.' cluded that she was the female guardian of the establishment. Such a sharp, angular, vinegar. faced, dead-to-all-humanity coun-- tenante is seldom exhibited to l mortals, and piercing eyes, Which * must have struck terror and dis ei may into the very vitals of the ~E most energetic pauper, added an . ~ additional incubus to her charms. TUB PRETT "Woman, I'm no pauper !" said the 'Captain. "Either bio those bodies, or else tak he yor ow n in very ru., , lazy man! Why don't you fetch 'um a own Ino,,a 'Having given this command -in a voice which startled 1 page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. ness even our horse, the matron disappeared for a moment and?.turned followed by a forlorn-looking man who carried in his arms a huge bundle wrapped in a sheet. "That's the woman," said Joseph, in a scarcely audible voice, as he deposited the body in the back-seat of the sleigh. $"Yes," replied Mrs. Grip, "and she was the laziest woman that's been in this house for fifteen years. Pretended she had the heart. disease and- could not work. I .used to give her a piece of my mind 'bout folks living on other people's means, when if it wasn't for being so 'tarnal lazy they might make a fortin. Now I've supported myself and that husband of mine for the past twenty years by keeping this house, and laid up money beside by scrimping the table. Ain't it so, Joseph?" "Yes," answered Joseph, in a tone which indicated that his future happiness depended in a great measure upon the reply he should make, "Sally-Ann is the sharpest woman in this town, sharp as a razor with a dozen fine edges." "Poor Joseph!"I soliloquized, "you are only one of a thousand such obedient husbands, the celerity of whose movements is only equalled by the rapidity of their wives' tongues. Unfortunate man I what historian shall ever do justice to thy matrimonial docility or the humility of thy meek and quiet spirit." While musing thus upon the character of this hymenial martyr who had now" brought out to the sleigh our second passenger, I was interrupted by the energetic language of Mrs. Grip: "That's a man. I'm glad to see him go. Of all the laziest men that man was the laziest. I believe he died because he was too lazy to breathe. He was everlastingly complaining of the rheumatism, but he was always the first at the table, and eat--I never saw the beat! The extra amount that man has cost the parish would keep the heathen in tracts for a year." "What did you say was the matter with this woman, Mrs. Grip?" said I, interrupting her in the midst of her raillery at my much- ignured and oppressed sex. "I don't know what you would call it. The doctor said it was consumption; but they kinder run every thing into consumption in our days, specially when they can't tell what does ail us." , "You say she has been in this house for fifteen years. Do you know her history, Mrs. Grip?" "Don't know any thing 'bout her," replied Mrs. Grip. I tried mighty hard to worm out of her who she was, where she came from, for what she came here, whether she had any friends, and why she didn't go to them. But she wouldn't tell me. so I quit asking. TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 49 "Come," said the Captain, "we can't wait any longer. Here's ten dollars for these bodies. I tell you, Mrs. Grip, I feel sad to think that I am buying bodies right in sight of the graveyard where I used to steal them," and as the Captain counted out the money into the broad palm of Mrs. Grip's hand, which looked like an expanded contribution- box, he seemed to be very doubtful as to the propriety of the act. I could but notice the utter disregard manifested by Joseph as he saw this new influx of specie into the matrimonial treasury. While Mrs. Grip's eyes dilated to their utmost capacity, Joseph's countenance illus- trated the practical working of the rule: "To the victor belongs the spoils." He well knew that the money represented no future personal happiness of his own. CHAPTER V. THE Captain having assigned to me the back-seat in order that our female friend might not want for any attention in her midnight ride, deposited the male body on the front seat by himself, so that the dead were indeed the companions of the living. Bidding Mrs. Grip and her obedient spouse good-evening, and being assured that she expected "two more to go off" before the winter closed, we turned our horses homewards and rapidly retraced the road through the village, which, quiet as ever, seemed unconscious of the errand we had accomplished, and that two of its inhabitants rode through its streets for the last time. Directly in front of me was the Captain, regardless of his new corn. panion, who sat beside him grim and silent, Cautioning him against too much drink, I soon became occupied in speculations as to my fellow-passengers. Within a foot of myself, and leaning back against the seat, was the body of a female, silent and motionless, enveloped in a sheet. What a commentary, thought I, is this on human life I What matters it whether this body, once so full of life, but now soulless and decaying, is buried beneath the green sod of the valley over which the winds would ever moan their sad requiem and merry birds mock with their thousand songs the silence of the grave, or the dissector's knife, rapidly destroying all human shape and beauty, consigns it to the loathsome depths of some dark vault filled with mouldy bones and eyeless skulls. page: 50-51 (Illustration) [View Page 50-51 (Illustration) ] 60 TXLES 'OF THE' PICKET-GUARD. She must have a history. No doubt a sad one. Perhaps upon this very moon, which now shines so gently upon her winding-sheet, she has often gazed sorrowful and alone, and, watching with tearful eyes its silent march through the heavens, wished herself as near the realms of endless bliss. Or, when a little girl, before time had burdened her heart with its many sorrows, no doubt she watched those very stars as they twinkled and glistened in their distant home, and wished that been sealed. No more tears and buri A RIDE WITH THEl DEAD. bodings of tshe mightr be a star a nd .shine all kindred, and freezn i ght and not be sleepy . 'nomore crushiNow her life of sorroil upon is ended, and sigh fr the tardy coming ofand the volume of her sufsenger toings has ;. been sealed. No more tears and burn- ing sorrows;. no mrore Iong and wretched nights filled with sad fore- bodings of the future; no more desertion and cruelty from friends and kindred,.and freezing charities doled out by the greedy hand of wealth'; ' nowmore crushing poverty, making her soul recoil upon its very self and sigh for the tardy coming of death. a welcome messenger to those 4= Thut /,1 "=Z.. --.-=- t -No fear of death attended my mother s departure-all was peace and joy- while angel forms and voices, beckoning the wanderer home, broke on: the fiid. nimJt hour.--Page 59. page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] * TALES OF THE PICKET GUARD. 53 bereft of hope; no inore bitter strivings with want and disappointments following fast upon her plans and purposes; no more sighing for the rest of those who, drawinga from their very wretchedness the hope of heaven, leave beyond the grave in peace and happiness. Oh I fortunate woman, to be thus free from; pains and ills l As I was thus soliloquizing, a sudden gust of wind blew aside the sheet and exposed to view the face of her whose history had so engaged my mind. What lustrous eyes I Although set in death, yet as the moon's rays fell upon them they seemed to look at me with all the earnestness and power of life--thought. An open mouth disclosed a beautiful set of glistening teeth which, grinning in her shrunken jaws, gave to her face a hideous look. Her long, black hair floated upon the breeze in wild disorder, while her winding-sheet catching in its loose folds the passing wind caused her frail body to sway with a life- like motion. By a sudden lurch of the sleigh her body turned, and that frightful face fastened its cold, steady gaze on me. My blood rahp cold, and a creeping horror thrilled my veins, and trembling with terror I rode along unconscious of every thing but my companion, who now watched my every motion. While thus spell-bound by the supernatural, I was aroused by the fierce voice of the Captain: "Aha!" said the Captain, with a fiendish shout, "I have you at lastI Pray for me I did you? Drink I did I? You were never going to return!" and the Captain sank into his seat exhausted by this sudden fit of anger. , The truth flashed upon me. She was the Captain's wife of former years. Recovering from the shock which this information gave me, I ,determined upon preventing any further outhurst of passipn Ibn the part of the Captain, To be riding in the dead of night iwith two corpses and a drunken man was bad enough, without witnessing any fiendish exultations by the man who had once been he husband of her whose lifeless remains now claimed my protection from his desecrating hand. It was the work of a moment. The Captain greatly overcome with liquor was speedily reduced to submission, and sullenly seated himself with no gentle assistance from myself by the side of his injured but forgiving wife of former days, while Itgathering up the reins, drove rapidly homewards, keeping a watch upon the Captain-s movements. "Here," thought I, "is a situation calculated to satisfy the most fastidious adventure-seeker. All alone with death, drunkenness, and villany." After a little muttering of vengeance the Captain fell into a drunken stupor from which he did not awaken until we arrived at 3 page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] " TALES OF THE PICKET-GUABRD. ' our destination as the clock struck four. Having seen the Captai n and his two companions safely deposited in the coltege-building, I took the horses to their stable, and then hastened to my room to catch a few hours' sleep before the prayer-bell should announce the corn mencement of the day's duties. The recitation in metaphysics which succeeded such an intercourse with the natural world is a matter of i college history, and" represented by a cipher. ! On the following Saturday night I repaired to the Captain's domicile to witness the process of boiling the bodies of our midnight companions X who had already undergone the ordeal of dissection. As I neared the college-building I saw a dim light shining 'from one of the base*- ment-windows, and on looking in there sat the Captain watching a huge cauldron which hung in an old-fashioned fire-place, and around which thick and roaring flames wound their sheets of lurid fire. Near a him on the table was Santa, evidently well supplied for the night's entertainment, and beside it were several rusty knives and an old scraping-instrument, all of which no doubt had many a sickening tale written upon their time-worn blades. A peculiar knock gave me safe entrance to this sanctum which the Captain guarded with the strictest privacy. "Well, Captain," said I, " here you are engaged in your evil deeds. X I worder th;t you are ant afraid of your shadow which dances so wildly upon the wall. Your heart must be as dead as these old bones strung about the ceiling." "Ah! Bob," replied the Captain, " time does every thing.. Walit till you have seen body after body boiled down in that old kettle, and if you don't work without being scared, then you are not like the rest of men. Who do you suppose I have in that kettle now? Yes,. nobody else. You see, Bob, I hate her worse than ever, and can make no difference in her favor. Every body that has come into this house for the last twenty-five years has had to go into that kettle. I can't break over my rule. Serve all justly: that's the true doctrine for all who are in authority." Don't that fire look gay licking with its huge, red tongue the kettle and making it hiss and' boil like a youtig Voltanol Theseold fire-' places are gloriouii, giving out such a flow of light and warmth. No stove for me I I like to see the wood burn and crackle, throwing out its thousand spafis, which go up the chimney like so many stars seek- ing the heavens. The Captain, rubbing hi 'hands with the greatest enjoyment, drew closer to the fire as if it were his native element. This was indeed a picture of human depravity. An old man-his form bending as it were over the grave-with no hope for the future his soul seared by the dins of many years and-dead to-all repentaint TALES, OF THE, PICKET-GUARD. g ,Pith no redeeming trait of character, no love for man or fear of God I The body of his wife, desecrated by his own hands, hanging before him in a cauldron, while the rapid flames fast divested it of all that had once made it fair and beautiful I No thought of love or suffering for him in days gone by, when, with all a woman's tenderness and care, she sought to lead him back to truth and virtue, could melt his stubborn heart. ' There .he sat, his long hair hanging over his face, while his eyes filled with a fiendish delight fixed their revengeful gaze upon the hissing cauldron, which now threw out large volumes of steam, and running over sent up clouds of ashes and smoke from the fire below. "Captain," said I, "it will be a great calamity if you have your senses' on your dying bed. Every one of your misdeeds will rise before you to torment with their hideous shapes your last moments., The ghosts of all the bodies you have so wantonly abused will come around your bed and make death a thousand times more fearful." "Don't talk such stuff to me I" replied the Captain, with a con. temptuous air. "I will risk it. The old Captain will die as he has lived, afraid of nothing aid frightened by nobody. 'Here's to your health, my little preacher, and may you meet your end as bravely as the Captain." Saying this he drank a copious' health to our final Feeling a sort of dread and expectation of walking.skeletons and ghosts, I was continually glancing around the room, listening to every sound, and as the doors creaked or windows rattled, I could Almost detect the approach of human footsteps. Thus annoyed by my fears I leaned my chair against the wall and watched the Captain as he emptied the cauldron of its contents into a large tub and drawing up his chair began to scrape the flesh off a skull which he had picked out from this mass of human ruins. As bone after bone was divested of its flesh and thrown upon the floor, I turned away in disgust and looked now at the skulls and bones which hung danghlng from the ceiling and seemed to watch me like so many argus eyes, and now going around the room I inspected the curious medical diagrams which hung against the: wall exhibiting the wonderful structure of the human system, and opened up a wide field for speculation and research. "No charnel-house,' thought I, "can equal this. For here instead e ogltering coffins with their exuding dampness are bones and skIlls devoid of flesh, making death more terrible by their open barrenness and swift decay." "There," said the Captain, as he tossed the last bone upon the floor, "that job is done and I can sleep in peace, I will let the bones dry before I wire them. the skeleton of my wife I shall keep, and dying bequeath it to you as a rich legacy." page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] b6 TALES OF THE PIOKET-GUAERD. CHAPTER VI. A FEW days after I saw the skeleton hanging up in the Captain's rooms, giving to the apartment a dreariness which none but the most callous heart could have endured. Notwithstanding such an insight into the Captain's character I could not relinquish our acquaintance, but continued it during my college course until the next and last winter of my sojourn in N-- H---, when the following incident occurred terminating our intercourse forever. One night during the winter of my Senior year I was aroused from my sleep by a loud rap upon my chamber door. Hastily opening it ica cme a messenger from the Oaptain. 0' ba& expessed 1desir to see me, and as he'could live but a short time the doctor had granted the request. - The Captain, had been battling with a fever for several weeks, and although every thing had been done for his comfort and recovery, this midnight summons was not wholly unexpected to me. A few moments and I was at the bedroom door of my sick friend, and, entering, saw him pale and emaciated lying upon his bed while an attendant bathed his throbbing brows. I looked at the doctor, an old friend of the Captain's, and was satis. fied of the truth of my conjecture. On approaching the bedside he immediately recognized me, and motioning his attendant to retire he extended his emaciated hand, and I sat beside him. "Bob," said he, in a low and painful whisper, "I am going. Don't forget the old Captain, but remember that he died game. Yes," said he, looking wildly, and throwing his arms with force upon the bed, I'ams game, ain'tI, Santa? HaI did you see that skeleton wait. ing beside the doorf He promised to come again. Take it away[ I didn't murder her ." : Exhausted with this delirium he sank upon his pillow. "His mind wanders," said the. doctor. "What a life he must have led to be thus tormented! It seems as if the powers of hell had con. spired against him." The Captain now lay breathing long and hard, and as I looked at his Wasted frame, his:sunken cheeks and glassy ,eyes, and tthought of his sad and ill-spent life, I could but bow my head and weep. TALES OF THE PICKET-GUABRD. 57 While .thus engaged I was aroused by the Captain, who, turning toward me, asked me to hear his last request. "Bury me," said he, " in some quiet spot, where no one can disturb my rest; in some country graveyard where the birds sing all day and the moon keeps quiet watch by night. Take Santa, and her skeleton, and keep them for my sake. Look l" said he, quickly rising in his bed and staring wildly at me, "did you not see that glittering knife? Take away those skulls, their eyes of fire and chattering teeth!" A struggle, a groan, the death-rattle, and the clock strikes twelve. The sound of the distant bell had hardly died away when the door opened and in came a skeleton, which walked slowly toward the couch, looked for a moment at the dead and noiselessly retreated from our sight. "Did you see that-?" said the doctor, while his voice trembled and was scarcely audible. "He must have been in league with the dead." "Stranger things than that have happened in this house," I replied. "Let us stay no longer, for my blood runs cold, and we know not what scenes may yet transpire before the morning light." A oreaking of the rusty look and silence alone kept company with the dead. I saw the Captain buried in a spot which I know he would have himself selected. It was in the graveyard of the village from which we had one year previous brought the two dead bodies referred to in the narrative. ' In a quiet corner of this churchyard, safe from the intrusion of strangers, we laid the Captain down to rest. In the spring, flowers were planted upon. his grave, and. having erected a suitable stone to mark his resting-place I left him to the calm repose of the grave, over whose sleeping inmate God himself would keep watch, decking it in summer with beautiful flowers, and in winter wrapping it up in garments of matchless purity. As I often visited his lonely resting-place, and watched the weeping willows as they swayed to and fro over his tombstone, sorrowing as it were for the end of life, which to all alike must come, the Captain's character as I had known him came back to memory, and filled me with sad forebodings. Thus, thought I, is the fate of those who die in sin. Their friends, while fearing, still hope that He who loved man ' beyond all thought of pain and suffering may yet be merciful to those who serve Him not while life was full and promising. The Captain had been buried but a few months, when I was sum. moned home to witness the death of one whose loss to man is not reparable, and fills existence with an aching void-my mother. For many weeks consumption, with slow and steady steps, had been leading her to the brink of death's dark waters. As I hastened home, page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 8 +B-Ef4 oF THE PI'CKET-GUARD. kh Wstat misgitviutiws Was my journey filled! Now I hoped, assall in sorrow will, olat there yet remained a chanet of health returninl tO her I loved; but when I thought of her last letters to me, so fll of teder love and prayers that I might prosper, and the calm resignation which had perv ded every moment of her sickness-her faith shining /ith all .the btightness of Christian purity and love--the earnest long- ings for heaten's rest which filled her soul and seemed to draw her from the fadiig things of time to those which are immortal, I felt that my fate was Sealed, hrand that ere long the world as it pushed along, bearing upon its whirling tide men full of selfishness and lust, would look upon. memotherless. Without a niother I Let those who have experienced such a loss, tell of their vain endeavor to comprehend its greatness. How like some mighty phantom it haunts their dreams; and follows in, their weary footsteps as they go on life's weary pilgrimage, now made dreary and joyless by the absence of her smiles and guidance. Yyou seek in your loneliness the ioom where her spirit winged its flight for the world of better joys, and as you look upon her vacant 'hair, where, in childhood kneeling, you learned from her the evening Fprayer, or gaze with sorrow upon the many things which are now blessed because they were hers, what memories of those happy days iome back, filling the very room with their ,thousand forms of love, *an beautyI Once more she lives the same sweet countenance and tinning smile, the same forbearance, checking by its gentleness the birserk of youthful passion; the samecounsels, breathing forth all the dtepthi anHd aar of her never faltering love; the same earnest desire for your happiness, for Which she can make no sarrifice too great; the 'oame iready sympathy for all your sorrows, the least of which pases not unnoticed by her quick discerning love; the same intensit of affection which noii-yWardnessilor' lapse of time, or separating distance can in the' ieatder'ehase, but' grotwing firmer day by day is not weakened or suspetd by 'death itselfl Heaven has no greater {tirtue than amothei,'s&. o . I l, , , Over tlde river the boatminwapale -.Curred ma otihr--the litseholt pet- ' Her' dark hair:Wfived in the gentle gale-' . Darling-mother I I: see' her yet! "Crossed at her bosom her wasted hands, And fearlessly entered the phantom bark; We watched it glide from the silver sands, And all our sunshine grew strangely dark. TAL KS Of THE PIO'BKg-OiUARB. 689 "We know ,he is safe on the further side, Where all the ransomed and' agel beo. Over the river, the mystic river, My childhood's idol is waiting for me."- I, could not but contrast this scene with that which I had witnessed when the Captain died. / No fear was here'making death hideous with a thousand fiendish shapes, but peace and joy drawn from a life well-spent and the promises of God to those who love him, while angel forms and voices beckoning the wanderer home alone' broke upon the midnight hour. As her spirit was borne upward to the realms of bliss, I heard her whisper : "All is peace." Why did I start? It was the same form and voice, the same words that I had seen and -heard in the vision of my college days. She too was buried where she wished to be-in a tomb shadowed by the very church in which while living she was always present, within the sound of that bell -.which had gladly summoned her to the worship of Him whom she loved to honor. Do you think me a believer in ghosts and visions? I am certain that "Some return from those quiet shores Who cross with the boatman cold and pale. We hear the dip of the golden oars, And catch a glimpse of the snowy sail," We hear their angel voices whispering words of tenderness and love when, in our hours of melancholy, life seems a burden and death the TENDBB OARB. (See p. 85.) only relief from ills which crush our weary souls. ; Visons of O,b(i11 - r)?i t !' , foam the spirit-land break upon the darkle of t b he ' r page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] VQ .^ Tils3 b T? lE PI ET - GUARD. fillingg our hearts:. jo-zand making life more earnest as we look upon theshiniigf orm tShosewho, gone before, come back to tell -us of harps and crowns aid many treasures for those who living well lie down'to die. . Love sleeps not in the grave, but filled with heavenly power comes tae;t0o^rt' an/d'watches over those who felt its. magic influence in days goety. i: too, the forms of those we have injured will evet , iti iit-our :ams anid' pausethe h eart of him to tremble who glories hii' inis 'eeds cruielty and shame. Awake or sleeping we feel the hiflling shadow of every misdeed. It follows us the whole day long, and keeps its easeless watch through long and weary nights. Many have presentiments of death. Some read their fortunes in a dream:;: bot ',a n;te falling o a leaf, or the dreary moanings of the winda some, inocy their duathsummons in curious sounds, heard in some vacan cdhamb0r, or the violent ringing of bells by an unseen hand; others behoi in visions the loss of friends and kindred. -The skeleton is haunting the Captain's chamber and keeping at his death an appointment 'made many years before-the vision of my college days, which too soon became a sad reality-have made' me a firm believer in supernatural visits. As I look at old "Santa" which now hangs before me on the wall, and beside it the skeleton of the Captain's wife, which I guard as the queerest legacy ever left to man-I am not certain but that the Captain will makeas flying visit to this mundane'sphere to inspect his former goods and chattels. If so0,ou shall be duly informed whether he comes in a " questionable, shape" or not. CHAPTER VII. TSIE 'sunshone brightly on the seventh afternoon of our tale-telling. Jim, Charlie, and myself, concluded that the heat was too great to admit of log -stories, so we concluded to confine ourselves entirely to nndotes and wit. Chf having smiled several times as if he had a good one on b hand, Be in as follows:r ': 'C ':/Th0oxas one day told in my hearing to our major this ' * w, t'ii--fly o y7 regiment was on duty at ColumbMs, Kenttwuky TALES iO TtHK pIC-'lewt-JID 61 I received orders from my Colonel to p":'s'$i ; t';is with two companies of the regiment, in charge of -sawfre:-- .iprisoners, 'We'\ embarked about ten A M., on board the "O. HillMiai'n,'" and immediately sailed down the river. Our boat had a large number of passengers aboard, among whom was Judge L---,with. whom, I was wete:ac quainted, and who, by the way, was a strong' nkio:mauar e ad if I had any objection to his conversing with: t'e. ;X:i. I t4.i him., "Not in the least," when he went forward, an. seleti: rough,* uncouth, lank-haired private from Arkansas, the followi ngGolloquy ensued, which fully illustrates the intelligence of ourdeluded "South- ern brethren:" ' -. . ' Judge.--"What regiment do you bel-ong to?" : Rebel.--"The Thirty-ninth Arkansas, by, .'. .-d l Judge.--"You have been in some battles?" , : . . a -Reb.--"Well; I reckon." ; . Judge.-"My friend, what are you fighting for?"^ * Reb.-"We're are fighting for our rights." ,.. ' e Judge r-"Well, what are your rights, or of what rights have youg been deprived?" Reb.-"I tell you, we're fighting for our rights." Judge.-"That's all very well, but define them." * Eeb.--"Oh, I ain't no politician, and I hain't got .no eddication to 'speak on, but I know we're fightin' for our rights, sartin." . Judge.-"Well, my friend, Ican tell you what you are fighting for: you are fighting to destroy the best Government and noblest nation the world ever saw. Look at that glorious banner" (pointing to the stars and stripes, floating from the gaff) 1, "are you not ashamed, sir, to fire on that beautiful flag?" Reb.-"Flag I I never saw that flag till I went and jined the army." Judge.-"What I you never saw the stars-and-stripes?" Reb.--"No, I never did." Judge.-"How old are you?" Reb.-" 'Bout thirty-five, Ireckon." , T:: Judge, in a tone of stupendous astonishment.-"And you never , saw the stars-and-stripes before?" . . Reb.--- No; I told you once already." ; It was a poser for the Judge. He was completely floored. "W ith 1 * mingled feelings of indignation, pity,'and dismay, he paced tho Alxt ' for some time in 'silence. At last, stepping directly in fro: i f: incorrigible acquaintance, in a subdued, serio:tpofne,'fv oice,f": "Did you know, my friend, that Christ was dead?" '. ' ;"' Reb., evidently srrprised .-I You don't sayl 1 tf, ,. regiment did he belong to, and whar was he klled I ; ;"* ,K "^^^ ^'% page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62, TALeS OF THE PIXK-ET-GUARD. 1While we were laughing Jim suddenly checked himself and let off with: "EGAL IlTTIaaGIENCE. ACcountryman walked into the office of Lawyer Burns one day and began hitI^ppcation: '"?I-t^iLtr^ e come to get your advice in a case that is givig me someKIubh' ' "hivte? ' Cell, what is it?" "Suppose, now,". said the client, " that a man had one spring of water on his land, and his neighbor below would build a dam across a creek through both of the, farms, and it was to back the water up into the other manes spring, what ought to be done?" "Sue him, sue. him, by all means," said the lawyer, who always became excited in. proportion to the aggravation of his clients. "You can recover heavy damages, sir, and the law will make him pay well for it. 'Just give me the case, and Pll bring the money from him, and. if he hasn't a great deal of property, it will break him up, sir:' ' But stop, Burns," cried the terrified applicant for legal advice, "it's I that built the dam, and it's neighbor Jones that owns the spring, and he threatens to sue me." The keen lawyer hesitated a moment before he tacked his ship and , kept on. "Ah well, sir, you say -you built a dam across that creek. What Sort of a dam was it, sir?" It' was a mill-dam, sir... : '" : mill-dam for grinding grain, was it?" "Yes, it was just that." 4' hAnd it is a good neighborhood mill, is it?" "So it--is, and you may well say so." "And all your neighbors bring their grain to be ground, do they?" '"Yes, sir, all but Jones" "Then it is a public convenience, is it not?" t FTo' be sure it. is., I would not have built it but for that. It is so far superior to any other mill, sir." "And now," said the lawyer, " you tell me that man Jones is oom- plaining just because the water from your dam 'happens to put back into his 4ittle spring, and he is threatening to sue you. Well, all I haveto say is to let him sue vou, and ho will rue the day as sure as mygfiame is Burn's." I followed suit with: I TAF ES OF THE PIGKET-OUARD JOSHE BILLINGS ON THE MULE. The mule is haf hoss and haf jackass, and then comes to a full stop, natur diskeverin her mistake. Tha weigh more akordin to their heft than enny other kreetur except a crowhar. Tha kant hear enny quickr nor further than the hoss, yet their ears are big enough for snpw-shoes. You kan trust them with enny one whose life ain't wuth more than the mule's. The only way tu keep them into a paster, is to turn them in a medder jinein, and let them jump out. Tha are reddy for use as soon as tha will du tu abuse. Tha ain't got enny more friends than a Chatam street Jew, and will live on huckleberry brush, with an okasional chase at kanada thistles. Tha are a modern invenshan; the Bible don't delude to them at all. Tha sell for more money than enny other domestic animals. You kant tell their age by looking into their mouth, enny more than. you kould a Mexican kannon's. Tha never had no disease that a good club won't heal If tha ever die, tha must come right to life agin, for I never heard nobody say "' ded mule." Tha are like some men very korrupt at hart; ive known them to be good six months just to get a chance to kick somnebody. I never oned one, nor never mean to, unless there is a United States law passed requirin' it. The only reason why they are pashunt is becaus tha are ashamed ov themselfs.. I have seen eddicated mules in a sirkus-tha kould kio and bite tremenjous. I would not sa what I was forsed to sa agin the mule, if his birth want an outrage, and he ain't to blame for-it. Epuy man who is willin tu drive a mule ought to be exempt by law from runnin for the legislatur. Tha are the strongest kreeturs on arth, and heviest accordin' tu their size. I heard tell of one that fel oph the to-path on the kanawl, and sunk as soon as he touched bottom, but he kept rite on toin' the bote tu the next stashun, breathin throu his ears which was out ov water 3 feet 6 inches. I didn't se this, but an actioneer told me ov it, and I never new an auctioneer 'to' li unless he would make sumthii' out ov it. Charlie not to be outdone, retorted with a scene in a Connecticut family: BUTTER AT THE OLD PRICE. Somewhere in Connecticut there is a family by the name of Barstow., who were never noted for cleanliness. On the contrary the name was proverbial for filthiness. They were farmers, and Mrs Barstow was engaged in the dairy business. Each week she posted to a villag / near by and disposed of her butter to Squire Walker, who dealt in coumnry produce and groceries. Er long she learned that she did ab / page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " TALES - OF. THE PICKET-GUARD. get half as much for, her butter as her neighbors were receiving, and this aroused her usual quiet temper, and she determined to demand an explanation 6f Squire Walker the next time she went to market. So the following week, with her regular amount of butter, she pre- sented herself at the grocer's counter and said: "Squire Walker, what are you paying for butter to-day?" He opened her boxes, and after a careful survey of the contents, replied: "Twelve and a half cents."' "Twelve and a half cents!" she repeated. "How is it that you pay Mis. Perkins twenty cents a pound, and only allow me ninepence- and this you have done all along?" "Well," said the Squire, coloring up and hesitating on each word, ' the fact is, Mrs Barstow, your butter is not so clean as hers, and I find it hard work to get rid of it at that price even, when people know who made it." "If that is all that is required," she replied, with a confidant air, "I will show them that I can make as good butter and as clean butter as anybody." Mrs. Barstow all excited hurried home, notwithstanding the oppress- ive heat of the afternoon, and seiz- ing the milkstrainer, and wiping the perspiration from" her face, ex. claimed to her daughter' Betsy Ann, Squire Walker had the impudence to tell. me that my butter ir Was not as clean as Nance Perkins's, and now I mean to show him that I can make as clean butter as she." "Du tell I I think I should try, ' mother," replied Betsy. Ann, em- phatically. sWj sAsONa TEB BUTTER. Mrs. Barstow commenced skim- ming her milk and pouring the cream into her old-fashioned churn. It was all]in but the last pan, and mounted upon a stool, was reach- ing after that; but unfortunately slh slipped, and one of her dirty feet went down into the churn until it brought up at the bottom, scattering it in every direction. Extricating herself as soon as possible, she wommenced scraping the cream from her limb and throwing it back into the churn, and remarked in a slow, deliberate tone to her daughter, TALES OF' THE PICKET-GUARMD. 65 who was laughing in a very unbecming manner at her parent's mishap: "Well, Betsy Ann, I guess my butter will have to go at the old price once more." "Here is an ode, boys, which cost me a great deal of meditation last night.' It is titled: 'PADDY MILES TO GENERAL BUTLER. 'Pon me sowl, Mister Gineral Butler, But yer doing the quarest owld thricks, Rigulating secishers and nagurs, That ye'll hev mighty soon in a fix. Sure in New Orleans didn't ye do it? And don't they, dear general, give thanks? For thin they were poor hungry divils, And now they hev plenty in Banks. 2 But the thrick that astonished the British Was the way ye showed crinoline up Whit insultin' our dacint definders, Neutraly assisted by ivery Bull pup. But ye tached thim sum moral acquiremints That I think they'll remimber sum time; If they don't, sure gineral, yer handy, You can give thim more army quinine. Faith, if ye had bin wid old Adam, Shure we id awl' bin alive till this day, For the divil a bit iv the apple' Muther Eve wud iv got any way. The sarpint wud hev bin prasecuted And put in Jerusalem jail; And, be jabers, vhen the case wud be over, Divil an inch wud he hev iy a tail. Niver mind, Gineral Butler, me honey, Though Jeff says yer head he'll buy in, He is going to bankruptcy shartly, And suspend Nvid a rope 'neath his chin; For his frind, Johnny Bull, doesn't see it, "Ow 'e houghter 'ad better hassist," o Whin he knows by ixparience the people That once emptied his Bullship's tay-chist. Long life to ye, Benny, achusha I May ye always lead forth yer brave band Against awl "wayward sisters" or ribils, And see,thim most beautifully' tanned. . ;"^ ' 'H . ] * In * X - - '; page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] 6(H" TALES OF THeS PIOKET-GUARD. Thin unfold to ithe breeze our brave banner I ,Let it wave o'er one Union. for all I One Ruler; one Armyg, one Navy- One Nation that niver shall fall I ' Good poetry," replied Jim; '* but the subject is a good one, and you ought to be ashamed to treat it in any other manner. I will follcw your rhymes with: PUT THAT IMPUDENT RASCAL OUT. While a congregation was collected at church on a certain occasion, an old, dark, hard-featured, skin-and-bone individual was seen wending his way up the side aisle and taking his seat near the -pulpit. The minister began his prayer by saying: "Father of all, in every age, by saint and savage adored-" "Pope l" said a-slow but clear voice near old hard-features. The minister after casting an indignant look in the direction of the voice, continued: "Whose throne sitteth on the adamantine hills of Paradise-" "Milton 1" again interrupted the hard voice. The minister's lip quivered for an instant, but recovering himself, he continued: "We thank thee, most gracious Father, that we are permitted once more to assemble in thy name, while others equally meritorious, but less favored, have been carried beyond that bourne from whence no traveller returns-' "Shakespeare!" interrupted the voice. This was too much: "Put that impudent rascal out 1" shouted the minister. "Original!" ejaculated the voice, in the, same calm and provoking manner. "That reminds me," said Charlie the tears trickling down his cheeks from excessive laughter, "of . THE DEACON AND THE WASPS. A worthy deacon in the State of Maine was remarkable for the facility with which he quoted Scripture on all occasions. The Divine Word was ever on his tongue's end, and all the trivial, as well as the important occurrences of life furnished occasion for quoting the lan- guage of the Bible, What was better, however, the exemplary deacon always made his quotations the standard of action. One hot day, he TALES, OF THEE PICKET-GUARD. i 67 was engaged in mowing, with his hired man, who was leading off, the deacon following in his swath, conning his apt quotations, when the man suddenly sprang from his place, leaving the swath just in time to escape a wasp's nest. !"What is the matter?" hurriedly inquired the deacon. "Wasps!" was the laconic reply. "Pooh!" said the deacon, "the wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are bold as a lion 1" and taking the workman's swath he moved but a step when a swarm of brisk insects settled about his ears and he was forced to retreat, with many a painful sting, and in great discomfiture. "Ah l" shouted the other with a chuckle, "the prudent man forseeth the evil and hideth himself, but the simple pass on and are punished." The good deacon had found his equal in making applications of the sacred writings, and thereafter was not known to quote Scripture in a mowing-field. After waiting a few- moments to see it any other joke would come from my companions, I thrust my hands in my pockets, and standing up saj: "Boys, I will now open the latest magazine of jokes and oddities. Here they are: The editor of an English paper was recSntly presented with a stone, upon which was carved the following letters. The editor was informed that: the stone was taken from an old building, and he was requested to solve the inscription. It read: FORO ATT - "ETOR UbTHE IRTA IlsAg A In St--- Eminent men were called to consult upon the matter, and after an immense amount of time consumed, they were informed that the stone was; " for cattle to rub their tails against." A Milwauke paper gives the following statistics illustrating the ;onvesational powers of the people of that village. The record was iaken down one morning last week: Persons. A."fine morning" . 650 A "lovely morning" . . 12 A "gay morning" . . 2 A " gay and festive morning" . 10 A beauntifil morning" . 101 A 'bully morning . . 16 A "pleasant morning' . 1 1 ,- page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] V-68 . TALES OF THE PICKT-GUBARD. An Irish gentleman, visiting some friends, was received with so muoh hospitality, and drank so very hard, that he departedwin a shorter time tlan was expected, and when asked the reason, very gravely said that he " liked them so very much, and he ate and drank so incessantly, that he was sure, if he had lived there a month longer, he would die in a fortnight." A friend of ours, visiting a neighbor, found him disabled from having a horse step upon his foot. Hobbling out of the stable, the sufferer explained how it happened. "I was standing here," said he, " and the horse brought his foot right down on mine." Our friend looked at the injured member, which was of the number- Ifourteen pattern, and said very quietly: "Well the horse must step somewhere." An affecting incident occurred at the New Haven barracks the other day. A woman desired to see her husband, embraced him, began to sob and cry violently. Husband gave her his handkerchief to wipe THE DISCOVERY. her eyes, after which she cuiiously'manilulated it under her-shawl and returned it to him. 'Husband took it as if it were a brickbat. Officer of guard -investigated, and found a bottle of old rye whiskey in the handkerchief. i TALES OP THE PICKET-GUARD. 69 ,, A Hoosier having taken a looking glass home in his trunk, one of his hopeful offspring was, curious to see the contents of the mysterious box. The mirror was on the top, when the youngster opened it, gave bne brief look, dropped the lid and, with terror depicted on every feature, exclaimed: "Oh, mother, mother, father has brought home a young cub . I seed him-a young bear.!" A man noted for his calmness and a scolding wife was one night stopped in the woods by a pretended ghost: "I can't stop, my friend," said he. "If you are a man, I must request you to get out of the way, and let me pass. If you are the devil, come along and take supper, for I married your sister." "Isaac, can you describe a bat ?'' "Yes, sir. IIe's a flying insect, about the size of a stopple, has India-rubber wings, and a shoe-string tale, he sees with his eyes shut, aqd bites like the devil." i A Dutchman being advised to rub his limbs well with brandy for the rheumatism, said he had heard of the remedy, but added: "I dush better as' dat-I drinks de prandy, and den I rubs mine leg mit de pottle," An Irishman, while fishing in a stream, was suddenly caught in a ,shower of rain, which obliged him to take refuge under a bridge near by. On being asked if he expected to catch any fish there, he replied: "An' shure, won't they be afther comin' in here for the shelter ?" Mrs. Partington, when Ike was about to proceed to the Black Sea,' among other parting admonitions, gave him strict injunctions not to bathe in it, for she did not want to see -him come back a nigger. A nobleman once asked a clergyman, who was dining at the bottom of the table; " Why the goose was always placed next to the parson ?" "Really," said he, " Ican give no reason for it; but your question is so odd that I shall never see a' goose again without thinking of your lordship." A Western paper thus happily closes a poetical description of a cold day, when Old Sol struggled fruitlessly to thaw the ground: "But the sun's rays were as futile as the dull reflex of a yellow bull-dog." A young lady down East advertised for the young man who "em- braced an opportunity," pnd says that if he will come over to their town he can do better. page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 .TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. There is an old maid at Waterville, WTis., so determined to have some kind of a husband that she offers to marry even a draft-skedaddler frdm Canada. , THE SAVED. They were alone in the world-these two-a brother and sister. She, two years the elder, had watched over him with all the tenderness of a mother, since that beloved parent had confided him to her care on her dying bed, six years before. She had told her of the dangers that would await the lad as he entered upon life, and tem ptations of every kind would surround him. No father's counsel or example, no mother's loving word to guard or strengthen him. Faithfully had the sister kept watch and ward over him, entering into all his pursuits, striving to make life as pleasant as their somewhat isolated position would permit. She had a small income from a few thousand dollars placed at interest, and this she eked out by teaching. They. lived in a model house, those comforts to the small-incomed, but yet yefined class of people. It was in one of the pleasant suburban towns, with good air and water, and a blessed peep at the glorious, sky. They had been so happy. But now a cloud no bigger than a man's hand was rising up on the horizon of -their serene trust; she felt its blighting, chilling influence. Charles had been placed with an en- graver, and he had been much absorbed by the beautiful art but of lte he had seemed much changed; he was restless and moody. Often absent from home on an evening, and resenting the kindly-expressed inquiries of his sister, she felt that there was some influence at work upon him which was acting against her, and undermining the very foundation of his character. She went in to see his master, and found from him tlBit Charles was mulch less steady and industrious than he lad been, and that he had formed an intimacy with a clerk in a neighboring store who did not bear a very good character, and Mr. Berri was fearful it was having a ruinous effect upon him. Ellen returned home with an aching heart, which found no solace but in the one ejaculation: "Oh, God, Father, help him, strengthen him, guide me in the right way to -influence him!'" and with this prayer ever welling uprin her full heart, she found solace. Charles came home that' night restless and sullen. He made no response to Ellen's efforts for a cheerful tea-table. She had'gathered upon it a few of the little luxuries he was most fond of, hoping to allure him in this most innocent way to sonme return of former feelings; but he took no notice of them, and while tier untasted tea was before her he arose from the table, put on his hat, and went out. It was the first night he had done so without at least the show of an excuse, TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 7.1 -,such as: "I promised to meet Patterson this evening," or "I have pledged a game of chess at the club;" but this seemed so defiant, so thoughtless of her feelings, she felt as if he must have taken a long stride downward before he could have done this. All that sad evening she brooded upon what she could do; what eourse she should pursue to awaken in the erring boy a sense of his danger; how call the good angels again around to guard and aid him. He looked unhappy; she was sure he did not enjoy his wrong-doing -and there was comfort in that thought; but she feared that he was becoming so entangled with bad associates it would be impossible for him to escape. The evening passed slowly on; each hour of the heavy clock seemed to strike a knell for one hope after another; the twelve strokes sounded, and she was sick at heart; he had never been so late. Was he indeed really gone from. her? Then her quickened ear, intensified by long watching, caught the sound of his foot (it could be no other), as it turned into the court, with a bound almost of joy, so great was the relief to have him once more at home. She sprang up, that she might open the door and speak a word of welcome to him -not a reproach, she thought, lest I drive him from me. But he entered hastily, opening'the door with his night-key; he pushed past her, and rushed up stairs to his own room. She could only see that he looked unnaturally wild- and haggard. She did not follow him; but when' e had been some time in his roomn, she stole gently to the door, that she might judge of his state. She could hear him toss restlessly upon his bed, and groans and exclamations burst from him. She prayed there,-so near him,rand yet all unseen by him--that he might be guided safely through this terrible conflict. When Charles came into 'the breakfast-room he did not raise his eyes to his Sister, but said, huskily: . "Will you give me fifteen dollars? I will repay you before long.'" "I cannot, Charles. All the money I have just now is the twenty dollars laid aside for the rent. If I take that, and you do not pay me before it is due, we shall lose our home. You wouldn't like that, I know, Charlie dear. We feel our mother blesses this place, and the ^ thought of her associated with it consecrates it for us." An expression of fierce agony crossed his features. He said not a word more, but darted out. An impulse-she knew not what, but is it wrong to believe it an influence from that mother's spirit-impelled her to put on her cloak and follow him. "I may save from one rash act," said she, and catching the waterproof which -hung in the entry, she covered herself with, its long folds and drew the hood closely around her face. It was but a second's work, but when she stepped out of the door Charles stood upon the horse-car, which happened to page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 TALE'S .OF THE PICKET-GUAKRD; be passing the head of the court as he went out. She rapidly fol. lowed, took the next car, and was fortunate enough to se6ure the upper seat where she could ke8p watch of all who got out of the vehicle ahead. She saw him get out at Boylston street. She followed him to a jeweller's establishment. She knew there was a lad there who had been a dear friend of Charles before he got drawn in with his present bad associates. She hoped he was going to consult with him on the present troubles he was in, and perhaps get aid in some way. To her surprise, asihe passed and repassed the window, she saw he was chatting quite gayly with his young friend, while he was examining gold-chains. Soon other customers entered the store. The young man was'called away, and after a moment's hesitation, Charles left the store. "What will he do next?" was Ellen's thought, He passed her with rapid strides. He did not recognize her muffled form. .She followed on and on to a strange part of the town. He entered a low, dirty-looking shop. What could it be for? Her heart sank within her. She peered into the window, and the sight she saw froze her heart. Charles- stood with a sparkling gold-chain in his hand, which he'was evidently endeavoring to pawn! Finally, she saw the man give him money and take the chain. Her brother-yes, her, till then, almost innocent brother-came out from that polluted shop, shorn of half his manhood, his eyes glancing furtively around. As soon as he was gone out of sight, she went into the shop, and with a quiet dignity of manner, which repulsed the forwardness of the Jew pawnbroker, she said: "You received a chain from a young man just now. I require you to give it to me, and I will repay you the money advanced upon it." "A pretty thing, that, for me to do. The chain is worth twice what I paid, and what am I to do when the young man claims it, miss?" "He will not come again for it, I will guarantee that. Please give it to me." And she took out her pocket-book, which she always carried about her for safety, and in which was the rent-money. "I shall do no such thing, young woman, unless you bring me a certificate from the young man," said the man insolently, for he felt that he had her in his power. . Ellen was resolute and fitted for all emergencies. "Then, sir," she said, "Hshall make a complaint of you as a receiver 'of stolen goods. That chain was stolen. I can prove it. You know best if this establishment can bear the test of examination." ): ' : ' The man turned pale, said not a word, but opening a drawer, gruffly ri -l - * . - TALES OF TEHE PICKET-GUARD. 78 "Fifteen dollars." She gave it to him. "If I find you have made me pay more than you gave him, I shall make it known to the proper authorities." She breathed more freely as she left the stifled shop. She sought a car, and soon found herself, wearied 'with excitement, at home. Perhaps this very thing, this being led to the very brink, might save her beloved brother, she thought as she sat with the chin before her trying to solve the mystery. What had led him to it? What did he want with the money? What could he have done? She longed for, yet dreaded his return. He cambenot all day, nor till eight o'clock in, the evening. Then he went directly to his room. Another painful night followed. At breakfast he came down with bloodshot, sleepless eyes. Her cheek was ashen pale, but the smile was on her lip, and her voice cheerful as her wont. She tried not to let him see her agitation, hoping for an opening to let her-into his heart. While each was trying to hide from the other their secret, the door- bell rang. The penny-post brought a letter for Charles. He seized it, opened it, read it. "Oh, my God, what can I do!" burst from his agonized soul. Ellen took the letter and hastily read it. She found it was from their young friiend at the jeweller's. It ran thus: "DEAR CHAbLES :-One 6f the handsomest of our watch-chains is missing. It has not been seen since you were looking at them yester? day. Could one have dropped accidentally into your pocket, or did you take one horne to show your sister (I think you said it was for her you were looking), trusting to make it all right with me to-day? I hope, this is so; and if the chain does not appear my employer will send a search-warrant to your house. In haste, A ROBERT G." Ellen drew the chain from her pocket, and laid it on the table. The rattling sound attracted Charles, who raised his head, caught the glitter of gold, seized it convulsively, and then dropping on his khees, he buried his head in her arms and sobbed like a child, murmuring ; words like these: . "Thank the Heavenly Father, thou hast savedame Oh, give me strength to overcome temptation in the future 1" Ellen let this strong feeling have its way for a time; then she drew close to him, placed her hand on his head, and then laid that head upon her true, sisterly breast; and there she held it till be, worn out by his r!' page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] }tt . - T -TALLiS O:r T a E PICKET-G U R D. emotion, dropped to sleep. She sat thus an hour, till feeling the irma portance of time, she gently roused him: "Go up-stairs now, Charles, and rest. I will take this chain to Robert, see Mr. Berri, get you excused from to-day's duties, and this shall be- a day of-feasting iand joy to us, for oh, the prodigal has returned: to his Father, has he not, dear Charles!" Such a look of glad relief, of perfect thankfulness and trust, crossed " his face, and ien he obeyed her and went up-stairs. She carried the chain to Robert, and gave it to him without a wr d. She could not frame a lie-she left the explanation to his generous kindness. That night Charles told her the whole--how he had been led away \ -ate, drank, and gambled with his evil companions; how it .was continued warfare with him, but he was led on step by step; at last he lost twenty-five dollars at play.: He was dunned for it, and threat- ened with exposure to his master if he did not pay it. He had only ten dollars to pay it. As a last resource he had asked 'Ellen for the money; and when she had refused, and for so good a reason, he was desperate. As he rode into Boston he thought of Robert, and then the idea came into his mind, if he could get some piece of jewelry and- pawn it, he would soon get the money to redeem it, and would then replace it, and probably the owners would not miss it. But the agony of the first day of " thief-life," when the gleam of the gold was ever in his eye, and its feel in his hand, and " thou art the man" was sound- ing in the recesses of his heart, and it was a foretaste of hell which he could not bear; and he had risen from his sleepless bed with the-firm resolve to take the first step toward 'right; and how much he was aided in -it by that watchful sister's love and ingenuity, none but those who have been through the same temptation and a similar rescue can say. Sisters, yours is a glorious work. - Be noble yourselves, that you may teach your young brothers to be noble. Be unselfish, that they"may learn the sweetness of the unselfish life. Be ever watchful over them. Teach them to respect, through you, every woman. J - 'l:rAr'PlGJCG A MURDERER. In the year 1833, we went to the Red River country with a view of speculation in horses, lands, or any thing that might give promise e of a profitable return for a cash 'investment. Of course I carried: a good deal of money with me, but. kdowing I was going among a wild, lawless class, of every grade and color-among half-civilized Indians, negroes, gamblers, thieves robbers, murderers, and assassins-with perhaps a few settlers with some claims to honor and honestv, if they TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 75 could be sifted out from the mass--I thought it .the safest plan not-to seem well off in this world's goods. Accordingly I secured my money in a belt about my body; put on a very coarse, rough dress, which, by intentional carelessness, soon had a ve ry mean, slovenly appearance; and allowed my hair and beard to manage matters their own way, without any troublesome interference of razor or comb.' Thus pre- pared, and armed with two revolvers and a bowie-knife, I passed over some dangerous country in comparative safety, and flattered myself that no one guessed my riches through my apparent poverty, In fact, on two occasions, I began to think it might have been to my advantage to have looked a little more respectable. The first of these was when, in travelling through Choctaw nation, I found a drove of horses that pleased me very much, and was told by the owner in reply to my question as to what he would take a head for the entire lot, that he was not in the habit of naming his price to every wandering beggar that chose to satisfy an idle curiosity. I was disposed at first to put t on some dignity and get indignant, but concluded, after a careful survey of my person, that the man had good cause for speaking as he did, and so merely assured him that I knew an individual that wished to buy horses, if he could get them at a fai4 price. The horse-owner, however, was not disposed to believe my statement, and so I passed him by, with the resolve that, if nothing better turned up, I would give him another call under a more advantageous appearance. As the second instance alluded to was'similar to the first, it may be passed over without further notice. But out of thiis same cause grew a very remarkable adventure, which it is my present purpose to relate. While passing between two settlements, over a very lonely gloomy horse-path leading through a dark, hemlock wood, and while in the most solitary part, there suddenly came before 'me, leaping froa thicket on the right, a human figure,of the most startling appearance. It was a man of medium height, but of a stout, powerful frame, all covered with dirty tatters, that he appeared to have worn and wallowed in for years. He had no covering for his head or feet, and his skin was so coated with grime that it was difficult, at a/first look, to tell- whether he belonged to the white race or not.. His face, high upon his cheeks, was covered with a dirty, brown beard, and his matted hair hung in wild confusion all around his head, except a little space before his swollen, bloodshot eyes, and altogether 'hai looked like a madman or human devil. His hands held and swaung a formidable club, and his attitude, as he sprung into the road before me, was one of fierce menace and defiance. I stopped in alarm, and, while fixing my eyes sharply upon hbis . / - page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 7TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. quietly slipped my hand into a convenient pocket and grasped the butt of one of my revolvers, firmly determined to keep himn at the short distance that divided us, or kill him if he, advanced. For perhaps half a minute we stood silently regarding and surveying each other, and then, resting one end of his club on the ground, and partly leaning forward on the other, he said, in a coarse, gruff tone, with a .kind of chuckling laugh: "Well, -- me 1 I's in hope I'd got a prize; but you're better off nor me, you don't show it, by -- I Stranger. Who ar' you, and ' whar you from?" "Well," I returned, feeling highly complimented, of course, that I resembled such a villanous object as himnself, " some people call me beggar, and I know I don't pass for a genteel gentleman." ' I'll swear to that---haw I haw I haw!" was his chuckling response. ' The world hain't made much of you, mor'n it has of me. I see steal in your face as plain as daylight. Say, what jail lost you last?" "Never mind that," said I. "Probably neither of us have got our deserts." "Well, if you had been decent dressed, and looked like you had five dollars about you, I'd have knocked your brains out!" continued the villain, with a broad grin. "As it is, you can pass; for I can swear you hain't got a red." "Much obliged for your candor," rejoined I. He still stood before me, looking straight into my eye, and now seemed to be pondering some new idea. At length he muttered, as if to himself:? "I think he. might do." Then a moment' after he said to me: "I say, old fellow, how would you like to make a raise?" "How would I like to eat when' hungry?"I answered, thinking it not unlikely that the scoundrel had some dark project in view which, by seeming to chime in with him, I might discover. "Well, I've got a plan," he said, throwing down. his club, as if to assure me of his pacific intentions towards myself, and quietly ad- vanced to my side. "I've got a plan that will give us both a heap of money, and it'll take just two to carry it out. I've been wanting a pal, and if you'll join in,'I'll go you halves." "If's there's any chance to turn a penny, I'm your man," said I. "Good!" returned he. "You look like a trump, and I'll bet high on you. I don't know," he added, eying me sharply, "but I may be deceived, but I think I'll risk it. If you go for to play any game on me, you'd better look out for yourself, that's all." "' Do I look like such a scamp as that?" returned I, in an indignant tone. , TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. r7-7 " Well, let's take a seat and talk it over." We found an old log and sat down; and after some preliminary conversation, my new and interesting acquaintance unfolded to me a most damnable scheme, the substance of which was as follows: He knew the country well fo miles around, and the exact position and condition of every settler. One man, living in a rather lonely quarter about five miles distant, was a speculator in horses and cattle, which he sometimes bought up and drove to a distant market. He had a god deal of money, which it was supposed he kept secreted in his dwelling; and to get possession of this money was, of course, the object in view. The trouble was that the man himself was a brave, determined fellow, who always went well armed, and had, besides his - wife, two grown-up sons and a daughter, which was a force too great for any one individual to encounter. About a mile from him lived a poor widow, who had nothing worth stealing except her clothes, which would be valuable for carrying out our plan. This plan was to rob the widow first of her clothing, dress me up in them, and have me seek lodgings at the speculator's house. Then in the night, when all the family should be asleep, I should unbolt the door, /let in my con- federate, and, we were to attempt the murder of the inmates-the robbery and burning of the house to follow and be the closing scene. I secretly shuddered at the atrocity of the contemplated crime, but appeared to receive the disclosure with the business air of the most hardened wretch, inquiring as to the amount of money we should thus probably obtain, and objecting to nothing but the great risk we should have to run, both before and after the accomplishment of our purpose. I permitted my eager companion to gradually quiet my fears, and at last consented to act. When every thing .had thus become settled, we struck off into the fields, to avoid being seen, and just before night came in sight of the widow's house. 'As my companion was acquainted with the premises, I. insisted that he should procure the female. garments-but solemnly warned him that if he harmed the poor old woman in the least, I would have nothing more to do with the affair. As good luck would have it, the widow was not at home, and my murderous friend managed to break in and get the necessary clothing without doing any further damage. The widow being a large woman, I had no trouble in arranging the dress so as to pass in a dim light as a tolerably respectable female; aiid then, having agreed upon the story : I was to tell, how I would manage the matters, and the signal that. would assure my accomplice of all being right, we went forward together, till we came in sight of the house to be robbed, wien I made my nearest way to the road, and continued on alone, reaching, the / , *;tN * page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 TALES- OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 'dwelling about an hour after dark, and just about as the family were concluding their evening meal. Had my design been really what I had led my villanous companion to believe, I certainly could' never have gone forward with such con- fident boldness; but feeling my conscience all right, and knowing I was acting from a good motive, I kept up a wonderful assurance, feeling curious to see how well I could play my part, and to what extent I could carry the deception. I asked for lodging for the night and something to eat, and was kindly and hospitably received. The first thing that sent the blush of shame and confusion to my cheek was the Coaimtg f&Vwzt d as young lady about eighteen, beautiful as an houri, and in sweet, gentle tones, asking me if I had walked far, if I was much fatigued, offering to take my hood, and telling me that I should be refreshed with a warm cup of tea. This was too much for my equanimity. Hcould have got along with all the .rest, without being specially disturbed; but 1 was a young, unmarried man, and though not particularly sus- ceptible to female attractions in general, I thought I had never looked on so lovely and interesting a creature before. I stammered out some unintelligible replies, kept, my hood well drawn over my face, and asked to be ernnitted a few moments' private conversation with the master of the house. Of. dourse'the request caused considerable surprise, but it was granted, and as soon as we were alone together, I told him in a few words who and what I was, the strange adventure I had met with, and disclosed in full the plot of my road acquaintance to murder and rob him. He turned pale at the recital, and seemed much astonished, but begged me not to mention the design to his wife and daughter. He then called his two sons--strong, determined fellows-recounted the plot to them, and arranged to have every thing go forward as if the scheme were being carried out as its vile author designed. It took some shrewd management to keep me to my part without letting the females into the secret; but it was effected, and before mid- night I cautiously opened the door and looked out. There was my man ready and waiting, "Is all right?" he whispered. "Yes, come in." As he crossed the threshold,-the father and sons sprang upon him. But the fellow ws strong and desperate, and perhaps had some sus- picions of the truth. With a wild yell he cleared their united grasps at a bound, leaving a large portion of his rags in their hands. The next moment the whole four of us were in chase of the villain, as he TALES OF THE PICKET-GUABD. 79 ran across the road to gain the cover of a woods about twenty rods distant. "Fire!" shouted the father, "shoot down the rascal!" We were all armed and prepared, and at the word, four revolvers began to crack behind him. But he seemed to lead a charmed life, and ran on, keeping a short distance, ahead of us. Once I fancied I 'saw him stagger; but he gained the woods and disappeared, and we reluctantly and with deep Qhagrin were compelled to give up the,chase. When we returned to the house, the wife and daughter were both terribly alarmed. Of course an explanation followed--the host being diEappo^W ^ ^d mak-? sg the wsptie as he ieteLed withoaut e9iGtiCg their fears. There was no more sleep in the house that night. The next morning we went out to the wood, and discovered a trail of blood. We followed it for half a mile, and found the ruffian lying dead, face downward, his hands firmly clinched in some bushes. One of the sons recognized him as, a suspected murderer, who had years before left that part of the country. We buried him with little cere- mony. I was warmly thanked for the part I had played to serve the family; but from no one did the words sound so sweet to me, as from the lips of the beautiful maiden. The family pressed me to stay a while, and I stayed-long enough to lose my heart and win another. Strange as it appears in looking back to it, the event of that villain leaping into the road before me changed the whole course of my fortune; and sometimes when I gaze upon my wife, I am tempted to bless the dark and wicked design thatf providentially led us to so much happiness. WOUNDED. Let me lie down Just here in the shade of this cannon-torn tree. Here, low in the trampled grass, where I may see The surge of the combat, and where I may hear The glad cry of victory, cheer upon cheer, Let me lie down. Oh, it was grand I Like the tempest we charged, in the triumph to share; The tempest-its fury and thunder were there. On, on, o'er intrenchments, o'er living and dead, With the foe under foot and the flag overhead- Oh, it was grand I Weary and faint, Prone on the soldier's couch, ah I how can I rest With this shot-shattered head and sabre-pierced breast? ". * , page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 . TALES OF THE PICKETsGUARD, Comrades, at roll-call, when I shall be sought, Say I fought where I fell, and fell where I fought, Wounded and faint. Oh, that last charge I Right through the dread host tore shrapnell and shell. Through, without faltering-clear through, with a yell- Right in their midst, in the turmoil and gloom, Like heroes we dashed, at the mandate of doom I Oh, that last charge It was duty-! Some things are worthless and-some others so good That nations who buy them pay only in blood; -For Freedom and Union each man owns his part; And here I pay my share, all warm from my heart. It is duty! Dying at last I My mother, dpar mother, with meek, tearful eye, Farewell I and God bless you forever and aye! Oh, that I now lay on your pillowing breast, To breathe my last sigh on the bosom first prest! Dying at last I I am no saint; But, boys, say a prayer. There's one that begins: "Our Father," and then says, "forgive us our sins." Don't forget that part; say it strongly; then I'll try to repeat it, and you'll say: "Amen!" Ah, I'm no saint I Hark! there's a shout I Raise me up, comrades I ' We have conquered- I know I Up, on my feet, with my face to the foe I Ah, there flies the flag with its star-spangles bright-- The promise of glory, the symbol of right I Well may they shout 1 I'm mustered out I Oh, God of our fathers I our freedom prolong, And tread down rebellion, opposition, and wrong I Oh, land of earth's hopes I on thy blood-reddened sod, I die for the Nation, the Union, and God! I'm mustered out I e CAPITAL ju lr , :9STiW NT. I In the Democratic Review of November, there was an account of the trial of Harry Blake for murder, who was convicted on circum- stantial evidence and hung. About three months after his death, the judge who presided at the trial received a note from a prisoner under sentence of death, requesting to see him without delay, as his sen- tence was to be carried into effect the day following. On his way thither he overtook an old man walking slowly, who accosted him, and the judge recogn'zed him to be Caleb Grayson, who had been a witness at Blake's trial, and had a similar note to his own, equally at a loss to know the meaning of the summons. They entered the cell together. The prisoner did not move, but raised his head, when Grayson recognized him, having seen him at a tavern the night before Blake's execution, and at the gallows. "Well, Judge, I sent for you to see if you can't get me out of this scrape. Must I hang to-morrow?" The Judge shook his head: l"It's idle to hope, nothing can prevent your execution." "An application might be made to the highest authorities," answered the prisoner. "Pardons have come sometimes on the scaffold." "None will come in your case," said the Judge. "It is needless for me to dwell on your offence now, for it was one that had no palliation, and you may rest assured that whatever may have occurred in other cases, no pardon will come in yours. In fact, I understand that-an application has been made for one by your counsel, and has been refused." The features of the prisoner underwent no change, nor did the expression of his face alter in the least. After a moment's pause, he said: "Is this true, Judge, upon your honor?" "It is," replied the Judge. "Then I know the wqrst," replied the criminal, coldly, "and will now tell what I have to communicate, which I would not have done while there was a hope of escape. You," he said, turning to the Judg; " presided at the trial of young Harry Blake, who was accused of murder, and sentenced him to death." "I did." "And you," turning to Grayson, " were one of the witnesses against him. You swore you saw him stab Wickliffe. On your testimony principally he was hung." "I was," said Grayson. "I saw him with my own eyes," The prisoner uttered a low, sneering laugh, as he said, turning to the Judge: ,. page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. "You,.sir, sentenced an innocent man. And you," turning to the otler, "swore to a falsehood. .Harry Blake did not kill Wickliffe. He was as innocent of the sin of murder as you were-more innocent than you are now." X The old man staggered as if he had been struck, and leaned against the table to support himself, while the condemned felon stood opposite, looking at him with an indifferent air. "Yes, old man,' said he, sternly, "you have blood and perjury on your soul, for I, I," said he, stepping forward so that the light of the lamp fell strongly upon his savage features, "I murdered William Wickliffe I I did it I Thank. God I did it, for I had a long score to settle with him I But Blake had no hand in it. I met Wickliffe on that afternoon alone--with no one to interfere between us. - I told him of the injuries he had done me, and I told him that the time was come for redress. He endeavored to escape, but I followed him up; I grappled with him, and stabbed him. As I did so I heard the clatter of horse's hoofs, and I leaped into a clump of bushes that grew by the roadside. At that moment Blake came up, and found Wickliffe dead in the road. You know the rest. The tale he told was as true as the gospel. He was only attempting to draw the knife from the man's breast, when you came up and charged him with the murder." "Good God! Can this be possible?" ejaculated the old man. "It cannot. Villain, you are a liar!" "Pshaw " muttered the man. "What is there I could gain by a lie? To-morrow I die." "I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" exclaimed Grayson, pacing the cell and wringing his hands. "God in mercy grant that it may be false i that this dreadful sin may not be upon me 1" The prisoner sat down and looked at the Judge and the witness with a calmness that had something in it almost fiendish, when contrasted with the extreme agitation of the one and the mental agony of the other. At last the old man stopped in front of him, and with a calmness so suddenly assumed in the midst of his paroxysm of remorse, that -it even overawed the criminal, said: "You are one whose life has been a tissue of falsehood and crime. You must prove what you have said, or I'll not believe it." "Be it so," answered the prisoner. "I saw the whole transaction, and heard all your testimony at the trial, for I was there too. I'll now tell you what occurred at the spot bf the murder, which you did not mention; but which I saw. When you rode up, the man with you jumped off his horse and seized Blake by the collar; and your hat i; TALES OF THE PICKET-GUARD. 83 fell off on the pommel of your saddle, but you caught it before it reached the ground. You then sprang off your horse, and while Walton held Blake you examined the body. You attempted to pull the knife from his breast, but it was covered with blood, and slipped from your fingers. You rubbed your hands on the ground, and going to a bush on the roadside, broke off some leaves and wiped your hands upon them and afterwards the handle of the knife. You then drew it out, and washed it in a little puddle at the foot of the sumach bush. As you did so you 'ooked at Blake, who was standing with his hands folded, and who said: "Don't be uneasy about me, Caleb. I didn't kill Wickliffe, and don't intend to escape." At that time you were within six feet of where I was. It's lucky you didn't find me, for I was ready at that moment to send you to keep company with Wickliffe; but Psaw all even when you stumbled and dropped your glove as you mounted your horse." "God have mercy on me!" ejaculated Grayson. "This is all true. But one word more, I heard Wickliffe, as we rode up, shriek out: 'Merfyl mercy Harryl"'" "He was begging his life then; my first name is Harry." The old man clasped his hands across his face, and fell senseless to the floor. It is needless to go into the details of the prisoner's confession,' which was so full and'clear that it left no doubt on the mind of the Judge that he was guilty of Wickliffe's murder, and that Harry Blake was another of those who have gone to swell the list of victims to circumstantial evidence. THE END OP MERRY DICK COON. "I think I never told you about an old chum of mine," said Charlie, 'that I used to have many a good time with, Dick Coon of the -th )hio Volunteers. Poor. Dick I I'll drink to his memory next time I ret a chance"--and then a deep sigh followed. "Hope it's not a ghost-story, Jim," said Charlie. "It seems to make rou kinder melancholy like. I don't like ghost-stories on duty." "No, lad," said Jim, "it's not a ghost-story-at least not as such hings are called; but I seem to see poor Dick before 'my eyes this ninute just as he used to be when we camped out together long ago, mnd as he was when he went down at last. "Just the boy for the camp then!" said Charlie. "Now do fell us ;bout him!" J "Well, lads, I'll tell you of his end, and then it'll be jv/to turn n. It was way down in Virginia, in the Shenano Valley, where here were a lot of little battles going on, not f any great account, * X , * .3 page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] er i 84' TALFS OF THE PICKET-GUARD. only they thinned down our muster-roll as much or more than one big stand-up fight I Ah, lads, it makes one sigh to think on all the brave boys he'd seen the last of!" "Come, lad, don't preach!" said Charlie. "How about Dick. Coon's end?" "Why, it was one o' them fights, too big for a skirmish and too * little for a battle, and the rebel gunners had been blazing away with their shells, and their sharp-shooters picking off our lads like so many prairie-chickens, and Dick had escaped scot-free; and cheered like an #arly rooster every time he saw a rebel drop. "But at last there came a cannon-ball right against poor Dick, and cut off his thigh as clean as if old Hackett had sawn it off with his toggery. "I was standing along side of Dick, and saw his limb fly off ever so many rods, and when it fell it gave one of our chaps in the rear quite a stunner-caught him right on his face and set his nose a bleeding. "Dick had turned round and seen it, for I caught hold on him and he hadn't dropt. So says Dick, 'Did ye see my seven-leagued boot? That shows you the pace I'm going to make my last march at. Guess it, beats the double-quick hollow.' "So says I ' Blest if you ain't a trump, Dick, to be game after that blow, but I guess that's the last time you'll draw blood, dear old - fellow.' "' Devil a bit I' says Dick. ' Just load my musket for me, and you'll / see the last blood that my poor carcase spills shall be rebel blood and not Joyal.', "So, of course, boys, I loaded Dick's tool, though the blood from his big artery Was spouting like a hose tap in a fierce fire. "' Be quick ' says Dick. ' The whistle's sounded, and the train'Ull be off in half a minute.' So I up and gave him his musket, and another boy helped me to prop him steady in the rank. 'Now watch,' says Dick. 'There's yon tall rebel by that cotton tree. I'm going to take him prisoner, and let him keep me company on the long march I'm just getting ready for;' and then he levelled and took aim, and aure enough 'the rebel dropped dead as a door-nail. Dick gave one faint cheer, and his one leg shook as though he was trying to give a leap : 'Now, then, boys,' says Dick, ' you see I'm not going all alone; I've got a companion, or a prisoner, God knows which; but I bear him no malice, so, boys, bury us in the same grave. Maybe we sha'n't fight in the land we're marching to.' "These were poor Dick's last words.. I need not tell you his com- mands were obeyed, and Dick and the rebel sleep in the same grave! Peace be to their memoryl"
