Baton Rouge tri-weekly gazette & comet. [volume] (Baton Rouge, La.) 1865-18??, 1865-09-07
For the Gazette and Comet.
Scrap from hsSbay's" Journal.

:
august 29tA.-What a lovely day! We
have come out to the Clubhouse, Bella,
Louis and myself, for the sold Gin" is
going to get his breakfast-and we put our
three heads together this morning and
agreed to 90 and see him eat it 1t will
| be his first mouthful this season, and his
old Jaws have been well oiled, it was so
long since they had chance to exercise
| themselves After SO long fast, the
children think he must be amazingly hun
CRY We are barely in time. John and
Gustin are busily employed, bearing bas-
ketfnl after basketful of the snowy repast,
and depositing it near his capacious mouth.
We do approach very close, however. The
children stand in wholesome terror OF "dat
| old Gin" They have not forgotten that
last year he made desperate attempt to
catch ssShay'' in his terrible embrace when
she unguardedly ventured too near him
how he had to content himself with the
entire skirt Of her foulard silk, and how
he expelled it, chewed up into tiny shreds,
| by his horrible teeth, and only recogniza-
BILE by it's color from the cotton with which
| it was blended. There is stir below. The
mules are hitched in, ready to start on
their monstrous round. Obi takes his
| place before the stand, the operation OF
EHfeeding' commences the word is given;
roand goes the wheel; sound is heard
like the rising of the wind in g forest OF
pines-it is the first word the cold Gin"
has spoken this year-ah could we but
| understand it
We hasten to the press room, and 10,
they issue forEh-the snowy flakes hutter
about. and the wind is rising. Is there
storm without? No, without is Gods
bright sunshine, and the green trees are
waving in the midsummer air--wlthln we
are in binding snow storm and wild
wind roaring about our cars. What
change is there. A minute ago, the 1oor
of the press room presented the uninvitlng
| aspect of plain, rough boards-noW we
tread on snowy white carpet that thick
ems as we look upon il. The children clap
their hands with delight, and we watch
the little fairies that dwell in the cotton
| boil, fluttering about on their snowy PIN
ions, for they have spurned away the gray
| dross that has held them down SO long.
All, thoughtless little fairies in the gray
4
heap that lies discarded by the Gin stand,
slumbers the bright future of other fairies
as beautiful as yourself. When you will
be pining in your sack cloth prison, and
may be shut within the dingy walls of
some Liverpool warehouse-those other
fairies will be winging their fight into
glorious freedom
80, Shay Shay come look !'
Bella and Louis have been playing about
on the cotton piled in the Gin room, and
something, which Shay must come and see
has attracted their attention.
1t is caterpillar queer, black, striped
little creature with such Wistful look in
its large bright eye. 1t rests on boil OF
cotton in Louis hand. 1t seems to await
It's fate, as if it is conscious it is an enemy.
| Can it be the dreaded cotton worm Ben
is called to inspect it. He thinks not. The
body is not quite long enough. Obi, stand
ing in sable majesty before the Gin stand'
is consulted. He shakes his head. Poor,
harmless little creature, the alarm its pres
ence created has subsidized, and tits tenderly
placed on the cotton pile to wander wher-
ever it pleaseth.
Bella whispers that she is s'going to sing
for dat old Gin"-
well, sing, Bella"
80, no, Shay-not here, afraid he bite
me ln-and her black eyes shine strangely
"No, sing now. It will please him''-
81 will, Shay, when dat old Gin stop
hollering"
This was said little while ago, and
now as there is a etoppage-one of the
mules got out of the traces, believe,
Bella remembering her promise, treats the
cold Gin' to her own arrangement of the
"Captain with the Whiskersn and Louis
Joins in.
Since singing is on the taps, why does
not some one write the Song of the Gin.
We have the Song of the Shirt, the Song
of Steam, the Song of Bells and why not
the Song of the Gin? At this time, too
what pathos could be poured into it. The
mournful plant that issues forth is waiting
some poetical soul to interpret it. Who
will give expression to the language of the
Gin! "SHAy."
$3.50 q s+-s.--~---A----
THE PEACH CRor.-The largest peach
grower in Maryland and Delaware is Major
Anthony Reyhold, whose crop last year
yielded him the handsome net profit OF