, 1878-08-08
StOnewall Jackson and the Sharp
shooter.

Just before the battle of Chancellors-
vile, where Hooker was defeated by the
terrible surprise in his rear, three fora
gers belonging to a Western regiment,
one OF them sharpshooter, caught sight
of 'Stonewall" Jackson standing in the
edge OF forest, reconnoitering the posi-
ton OF the Union army. The sharpshoot-
er, who was rough, profane man, known
as "Old Pete" took deadly aim with his
Minnie rifle at the General, from the win
dow of an empty house. What followed
is thus related by one of the three in the
Detroit Free Press.
1t seemed like cold. .bloOded assassiia-
tion. l could almost count the buttons
on Jackson's coat, and there seemed no
escape for him. l was watching him
when the rifle cracked. He had a field
glass to his eye, and the only movement
we could see was quick motion of the
bead, as if the bullet had cut close to his
ear. The glass was not even lowered.
"Old Pete" swore as he realized his fail
ure, but in minute was ready again.
II hope never to draw another breath
if don't kill himw he muttered, as he
knelt down. Jackson did not face US as
before, yet was y good mark even for
musket. We watched him as before, and
this time the bullet must have swept past
his face, as he lodged his face backward.
The field glass went down then, but he
raised it in an instant and went on with
his survey.
"Have l got to be fool, or have 1
grown blind" howled Pete, as he looked
down upon his unharmed victim. "I'll
kill him this time or shoot myself in this
chamber"
1t was dangerous to remain there long
er, as the cavalry had crept nearer, and
Jackson's aids seemed to have got the
idea that a sharpshooter was posted near
| by. Yet "Old Pete" would have had a
third shot if the Confederates had been
in the house.
| He took more careful aim, and yet,
when he fired, he saw splinters fly from a
railroad over beyond the General. The
cavalry we're then close upon us, and our
two muskets were lost in the hurried
| flight from the house. Half an hour af-
To-, that, Jackson was driving our brigades
and divisions rs he willed.
"I'l measure off the same distance,
shoot off-hand, and bet my life | can hit
soldiers cap nine times out of ten"
growled "Old Pete" as he hurried for
ward, and suddenly overcome by indig
nation and chagrin he battered his cher
ished gun against tree and destroyed it.
AS if seeking personal revenge, jack
sons legions passed right by US. The
Nf
picked up and dashed to pieces. Run
ming along with the amazed and fright
ened men, but bearing of toward our
own division, we picked up other muskets
to replace our lost ones.
Reaching a knoll from which we had
\ another view of the turnpike, we halted
for last look; over the heads of the
frightened, fleeing soldiers-over the
ground strewn with arms and accoutre-
/ ments-over the blue smoke just begin
ming to rise, we saw Jackson again. He
was far away, but it was Jackson.
20 the rebel but he has got guardian
1 angel" howled "Old Pete" as he shook
\ his fist toward the turnpike.
No other man ever had a rifle drawn on
him at such fair range and escaped three
( cool, carefully aimed bullets. His escape
sent thrill of superstition through each
! mind, and from that hour to the moment
when the news of Jackson'S death reached
| us, "Old Pete" never spoke word. Soon
soldier, hurrying along, shouted:
"We're all right. Stonewall Jackson
has been killed up the road there"
sold Peten leaped up, whrled around
to face the bearer Of the news, and saw
agely shouted back:
"You lie you lie you lie Stonewall
Jackson can't be hurt by she'll or killed
by bulletw But it was so.
THE MAINE GGKL.-A New York news
paper correspondent who reached down
| East summer resort early in the season,
writes:
Let US speak good word for the
Maine girl. She is asplendid housewife;
| she has beautiful arms, and the time to
see them is when she is making bread.
| WHY hasn't Longfellow written OF "The
Baking of the Bread" along with the
building of shipl Or, has he2 The Maine
girl is heshy, as general thing, but the
Maine man is lank.
She has rosy, round face; she has
hazel eyes, swept by long, silky lashesi
she has high cheek bones, and high fore.
head she has brains assure and true, if
not surer and truer than Boston brains.
Her lips are ripe and full. She sings
from sunrise till she seeks her downy
pillow at night. She is as merry and
chirp as a sparrow; when she laughs she
throws back her head. She looks beau
tiful. 1t is grand sight to see Maine
girl laugh; it is thrilling, natural, unaf-
fected. 1t is Splendid it is nature--poor,
fallen nature risen. Where is the artist
to paint the Maine girl laughing to save
that face on canvas; to duplicate that
mouth in oil coorsl If your phonograph
has naught but an Eastern girls laugh
to throw back upon you, you are rich in
melody
There is a sweet simplicity about the
girl. We are happy atintroducing her to
any strangers and hope we may be
bV paka ar in vi