Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1862-11-21
From the Continental Monthly
HOPEFUL TACRET-HIS MARK.
BY R1cNoxD woLceTT, "I0TH ILLINOIS,

( tion, keeping time with bis hammer. as be
| hammered away at an immense ''stoga." And
as he sang, the prophetic words rose upon the
air, and were waited, together with an odor Of
new leather and paste pot, out of the window,
and fell upon the ear Of a ragged urchin with
an armful of hand bills
Would you loose a leg for it, Hope?" he
asked, bringing to bear upon Hopeful pair
of crossed eyes, fall complement of white
teeth, and a face spotted with its kindred
dust
For the Banger?" replied Hopeful; guess
1 would. Both on em-an head too"
"WelI, here's chance for you" And he
tossed him a handbilL
Hopeful laid aside his hammer and his work
and picked up the handbill; and while he was
reading it, let us briefly describe him.
Hopeful is not beauty. and he knows IT.;
and although some Of the rustic youths call
him beat he is well aware that they intend
it for irony. His countenance runs too much
TO nose-rude amorphous nose at that-to be
classic, and is, withal, rugged in general out
line, and pimply in spots. His hair is deeid
edly too dingy red to be called, even by the
uttermost stretch of courtesy. auburn; dry
coarse, and pcrfinaciously obstinate in its re-
sistauce TO the civilizing efforts Of comb and
brush. But there is great deal of big bone
ard muscle in him, aud he may yet work out
noble destiny. Let us see.
BY the time he had spelled out the handbill,
and found that Lieutenant-- was in
town, and wished to enlist recruits for compa-
ny -, 10th regiment it was nearly sunset;
and be took off his apron, washed his hands,
looked at himself in the piece of looking glass
that stuck in The window-a defiant look, that
said he was not afraid OF all that nose-took
his hat down from its peg behind the door, and
spite of the bristling resistance Of his hair,
crowded it down over his head, and started for
his supper. And as be walked he unused a.
loud, as was his custom, addressing himself in
the second person:
, Hopeful, what DO you think of it? They
want more soldiers, Oh Guess them fights at
Piltsburg bout used up some o them ridgi-
mants. By Jing! (Hopeful had been pious-
ly brought up, and his emphatic exclamatious
took mild form) Hopeful 'xpect you'll have
TO 90 an stan in some poor fellers Shoes
'Twon't do for them there blasted Seceshcrs to
be KILN off our boys, an no one there to pay
en- back. It's time this here thing was bust
cd! HopefIl you amt pretty, amt smart;
but yoa used TO be Dighiy nasty hand with
shot gun. Guess you'll have 70 Try your
hand Oh o'd Borey's (Beauregard's) chaps; and
If you ever get bead oa one, he'll enter his
land mighty shortly. What do You say to 60
ing2 You wanted TO go las; year, but mother
was sick, an you couldn't; now mothers gone
to glory, why, show your grit an 60 Think
about it anyhow"
And Hopeful did think about it-thogght
till late at night. Of the insulted Rag, Ct the
fierce fights aud glorious victories, Of the dead
and the dying, lying out in the pitiless storm,
of the bastard Y Uutrages of rebel fends-
thought of all this with his great, warm heart
ovcrHowing with love for that dear old Ban
gec,'' and resolved 10 GO The next nornng
he notified the "bossT of his iptention to quit
his service for that of Uncle Sam The old
man only opened his eyes very wide, grunted,
brought out the stocking, "a stripped relic Of
the departed Frau Kordwaner) and from it
counted out and paid Hopeful every cent that
was due him. But there was one thing that
sat heavily upon Hopeful's mind.
He was in predicament that all of US are
liable to fall into-he was in love, and with
Christina, Herr Kordwaner's daughter. Chris
tina was a plump maiden, with a round rosy
face, an extensive latitude of shoulders, aud a
general plentitude and solidity of figure. An
these she had; but what captivated Hopeful's
eyes was trim little ankle as it appeared to
him one morning, encased in a warm, white
stocking of her own knitting. From this small
beginning, his great heart had taken in the
whole of her, and now he was desperately in
love. Two or three times he essayed to tell
her of his proposed departure; but every time
that the words came to his lips, something
rushed up into his throat ahead Of them, and
he couldn't speak. At last, after walking home
from church with her on Sunday evening, he
held ont his hand and blurted out:
We'll, goodbye. We're off tomorrow"
"Ofl Where?"
1--WE enlisted.''
Christina didn't faint She didn't take out
her delicate and dainty perfumed mouchojr to
hide the tears that were not there. She lock-
ed at him a moment, while two great real
tears rolled down her checks. and then-pre-
cipitated all her charms right into his arms.--
Hopeful stood it rnanfully-rather liked it, iG
fact. But this is a tableau tkat we've 30
right to be looking al; so let us pass by how
they parted-with what fears and embraces,
and eXtraSaganI protestations of nndying af-
fiction, and wild promises of eternal reWem-
brauce; there is no need of telling, for we all
know how foolish people will be under such
circumstances, Ne old heads know all about
such matters and what they amount to- o, yes
certainly we do.
The next morning found Hopeful, with
dozen others in charge of the Lieutenant, and
on their way to join the regiment Hopeful's
first experience of camp life vas not singu-
lar one. He, like the rest of us, at first ex
hibiSed the most energetic awkwardness at
drilling. Like the rest Of US, had occasional
attacks Of home-sickness; and as he stood at
| his post on picket, in the silent night watches
while the camps lay sleeping in the moonlight,
| his thoughts would go back to his far away
home, and the plentiful charms Of the fair
| haired Christina. So he went on, dreaming
sweet dreams of home, but ever active and a
Iert. eager to learn and earnest to do his duty,
silencing all selfish suggestions Of his heart
with the simple logic of pure patriotism.
Hopeful he would say. 1.-THE Dangers took
care O. you all your life, an now you're here
to take care oft. See that you do it the best
you know how"
1t would be more thrilling and interesting,
and would read better, If we could take cur
hero to glory amid the roar of cannon and
musketry, through a storm of shot and shell,
over a seried line of glstening bayonets. But
strict truth-a matter of which newspaper cor
respondents and sentimental writers, generally
seem to have very misty conception-forbids
it. iit
1t was only a skirmish-a bushwbacking
euLt TO- 1ho ooeeacsiou of n swami A few