The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1878-07-05

guns! 1t was evident they had taken the
worst direction, but there was no help
for it now-it was too late to turn back.
In her agony, the mother cried aloud on
God 10 protect her family. Mary Rugged
closer the child in her arms, and
trembled 30 she could hardly keep up.
Another crashl The shot shrieked past
them, striking the trees in every direc-
ton. The assault was fierce, the roar
was incessant. The frightened family
rushed on as swiftly as possible toward
friends plantation, far back from the
shore; but it was soon seen that they
would not have strength to reach it, even
If they were not struck down by the
flying shot. The Americans were pour
ing their fire into these woods, thinking
the enemy would seek refuge there. The
wretched fugitives expected every
moment to be the last. On they pushed
through mud and rain and screaming
shot.
Soon they found they were getting
more out of the range of the guns. They
began to hope; yet now and then q ball
tore up the trees around them, or rolled
fearfully across their path. They
reached one of the houses where their
field-hands lived, with no one hurt !;
they were over mile from the man.
sion, and out Of range. The negroes
said no shot had come that way. I'm
able to flee further, the family deter
mined to stop here, and sank upon low
bed. Chilled to the bone, drenched,
trembling with terror and exhaustion,
the family gathered ayound her. She
opened her eyes and looked about. She
sprung up wildly.
"Oh, Mary" she cried, "where is
John?"
The little girl turned pale, and
moaned: ooh, mother mother he's
left! She broke into crying. The ne
groes, quickly sympathetic, began to
wiring their hands and wall.
"Silence - said Mr.. Gibbes, with
stern but trembling voice. The tears
were in his own eyes. The little child
now missing was very dear to them all,
and, moreover, was deemed sacred
charge, as he WAS one of the orphan
children of Mr.. Gibbes' sister, intrusted
to him on her death bed.
The wailing ceased; there was silence,
broken only by sobs, and the master
asked:
"Who is willing to go back for the
child ?"
No one spoke. Mr.. Gibbes turned to
his wife for counsel. AS the two talked
in low tones, Mrs. Gibbes called her
husbands attention to Mary, who was
kneeling with clasped hands, in prayer,
at the foot of the bed. In moment
the little maid rose and came to them,
saying calmly:
Mother, must go back after baby"
ooh, my child" cried the mother, in
agony, 81 cannot let you'll"
But, mother, I must" pleaded
Mary. "God will care for me-"
1t was fearful responsibility. The
guns yet roared constantly through the
darkness; the house might now be in
flames; it might be filled with carnage
and blood. Mrs. Gibbes turned to her
husband. His face was buried in his
hands. Plainly, she must decide it her
self. With streaming eyes, she looked
at Mary.
"Come here, my child" she called
through her sobs. Mary fell upon her
mothers neck. One long, passionate
embrace, in which all a mothers love
and devotion were poured out, and the
clinging arms were opened without
word. Mary sprung up, kissed her
fathers forehead, and sped forth on her
dangerous mission of love.
The rain had now ceased, but the
night was still dark and full of terrors.
for through the trees she saw the fire.
quent flashes of the great guns. The
woods we're filed with the booming
echoes, 80 that cannon seemed to be on
every hand. She flew on with all speed.
Soon she heard the crashing trees ahead,
and knew that in a moment she would be
once more face to face with death. She
did not falter. Now she was again in
the fierce whirlwind All around her
the shot howled and shrieked. On
every side branches fell crashing to the
earth. A .cannon-ball plunged into the
ground close beside her, cast over her
heap of mud, and threw her down. She
sprung up and pressed on with re-
doubled vigor. Not even that ball
could make her turn back slt Id
She reached the house. She ran to
the room where the little child usually
slept. The bed was empty Distracted,
she flew from chamber to chamber.
Suddenly she remembered that this
night he had been given to another
nurse. Up into the third story she hur-
ried, and, as she pushed open the door,
the little fellow, sitting up in bed, cooed
to her and put out his hands.
With the tears raining down her
cheeks, Mary wrapped the babe warmly
and started down the stair. Out into
the darkness once more; onward with
her precious burden, through cannon
roar, through shot and shell Three
times she passed through this iron storm.
The balls still swept the forest; the ter
rife booming filed the air.
With the child pressed tightly to her
brave young heart, she fled on. She
neither stumbled nor fell. The shot
threw the dirt in her face, and showered
the twigs upon her head. But she was
not struck. In safety she reached the
hut, and fell exhausted across the
threshold.
And the little boy, thus saved by a
girls brave devotion, afterward became
Gen. Fenwick, famous in the war of 1912.
Charles II. Woodr,an, in 81. Nicho-
las for July.