New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1872-06-09

Is 1t agreeable
Bladburn gave little laugh, all to him
self, seemingly, and was about to say Quite
| So" when he caught at the words, blushed
| like a girl, and nodded a sunny assent TO
Strong. From that day until the end the
sobriquet chung to him.
The disaster at Bull Run was followed,
! as the reader knows, by long period of
mastery inactivity, so for as the army of
| the Potomac was concerned. Mcdowell, a
| good soldier, but unlucky, retired to Airing
| ton Heights, and Mcclellan, who had dis
| tinguished himself in Western Virginia,
| took command of the forces in front of
Washington, and bent his energies to reOr-
! ganizing the demOrahzed troops. 1t was
| dreaTy time to the people of the North,
who looked fatuously from week to week
for 'tbe fall of Richmond :" it was a sad,
dreary time to the denizens of that vast
city Of tents and forts which stretched in
a semi-clrcle before the beleagured CAPT.
| tal--sO tedious and soul-wearing a time that
the hardships of forced marches and the
horrors Of battle became desirable things
to them.
Roll-call morning and evening, guard
| duty, dress-parades, an occasional recon
noissance, dominOs, wrestling matches, and
such rude games as could be carried on IN
camp, made up the sum of our lives. The
! arrival of the mail with letters and papers
/
noticed that Bladburn neither wrote nor re-
ceived any letters. When the rest of the
| boys were scribbling away for dear life,
with drum-heads and knapsacks and
cracker boxes for writing-desks, he would
sit serenely smoking his pipe, but looking
out on US through rings of smoke with
face expressive of the tenderest interest.
aIook here, Quite So" Strong would say,
''the mailbag closes in half an hour. Amt
WV, o.oiuu IN VvTItn1V
II believe not to-day" Bladburn would
reply, as if he had written yesterday, or
would write tomorrow; but he never
wrote.
He had become great favOrite with US,
aud with all the officers of the regiment.
He talked less than any man l ever knew,
but there was nothing gloomy or sullen in
his reticenee. 1t was sunshine-warmth
and brightness, but no voice. Unassuming
and modest to the verge of shYness, he i'm
pressed every one as man OF singular
pluck and nerve.
.Do you know" said Curtis to me one
day, that that fellow Quite So is clear
grit, and when we come to close quarters
with our Palmetto brethren over yOnder,
he'll do something devilish y
'What makes you think so !"
well nothing quite explainable; the eX-
asperating GOODNESS of the man as much as
ANYTHING. This morning the boys were
teasing Muffin Fan Ia small mulatto girl
who used to bring mullins into camp three
times week at the peril of her ife. and
JENNY Blunt, of company K-you know
him-was rather rough on the girl, when
Quite So, who had been reading under a
tree, shut one finger in his book, walked
over to where the boys were skylarking,
and with the smile of a juvenile angel on
his face, lifted Jenny out of that and set |
him gently down in front of his own tent. |
There Blunt sat speechless, staring at Quite !
So, who was back again under the tree, |
pegging away at his little Latin grammar |
That Latin grammar! He always had it |
about him, reading it or turning over its |
dogs-eared pages at odd intervals, and in |
Ouf-Of-the-WaY places. Half a dozen times |
a day he would draw it from the bosom of |
his blouse, which had taken the shape of |
the book Just over the left breast, look at |
il as if TO assure himself it was all right, |
and then put the thing back. At night the |
volume Law beneath his pillow. The first |
thing in the morning. before he was well |
awake his hand would go cropping instinct |
lively under his knapsack in search of it.
A devastating curiosity seized upon us |
boys concerning the Latin grammar, tor we /
had discovered the nature of the book. |
Strong wanted to steal it one night, but |
concluded not TO- in the first place" re-
f1ected Strong. II haven't the heart to do it, /
and in the next place, l haven't the moral |
Quite So would placidly break
every bone in my body" And / believe |
Strong Was not far out of way.
Sometimes was vexed with myself for |
allowing this tall, simple-hearted country 4
fellow to puzzle me so much. And vet, /
was he simple-hearted country fellow3 City \
bred he certainly was not; but his manner,
in spite of his awkwardness, had an indie
scribable air of refinement. Now anG then,
too, he dropped a word or phrase that
showed his familiarity with unexpected |
lines of reading. "The other day." said
Curtis, with the slightest elevation of eye
brow, che had the cheek to correct my
Latin for me-" In short, Quite So was a
daily problem to the members of mess six.
Whenever he was absent. and Blakely.
Curtis and Strong and l got together
In the tent, we discussed him, evOlv-
ing various theories to explain why he
never wrote to anybody and why nobody
ever wrote to him. Had the man committed
some terrible crime, and fed to the army
to hide bis guilt Blakely suggested that
be must have murdered ''the old folks"
What did be mean by eternally coming
his tattered Latin grammarl And was
MS name Radburn, anyhow Even his
amiability became suspicious.
And then his frightful reticence If he was
5he victim of any deep grief or crushing
calamity, why didn't he seem unhappy
What business had he to be cheerful
''It's my opinion said Strong, "that he's
rival Wandering Jew; the original Jacobs,
you know, was dark fellow"
Blakely inferred from something Blad-
IuTn had said, or something be hadn't
was more likely-that he had
,een a schoOlmaster at some period of his
ife.
"Schoolmaster be hanged Y was Strong's
"Can you fancy a sehOOmaster
l. L.
! drafted little spelling book! No, Quite
10 has evidently been "a a-blest if / can
imagine 1Chat he's been p
Whatever John Bladburn had been, be
vas a lonely man. Whenever l want a
ype of perfect human isolation, / shall
hink of him, as'he was in those days, NOV
0g remote selfcOntained and alone in the
lidst of two hundred thousand men.
The Indian summer, with its infinite
eauty and Tenderness, came like re-
roach that year to Virginia. The foliage, |
ouched here and there with prismatic
.nts, dropped mOtionless in the golden
axe. Tie delicate Virginia creeper was
lmOst minded to put forth its scarlet buds
gain No wonder the lovely phantom
bis dusky Southern sister of the pale
'orthern June fingered not long with us,
ut, filling the once peaceful glens and val
sys with their pathOs, stole away rebuke-'
lily before the savage enginery of man.
The preparations that had been going on
Dr months in arsenals and foundries at the l
forth were nearly completed. For weeks
asst the air had been filed with rumors Of '
n advance; but the rumOr of to-day re- I
lted the rumOr of yesterday, and the
rand army did not move. Heintzelman's i
orps was constantly folding it's tents like 1
ne Arabs, and as silently stealing away; t
ut somehow it was always in the same q