The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1880-06-11

| thing he remembered was kissing his
hand to Julia, who sat at her bedroom
window. He said he thought she might
be the last woman he ever saw this side
Of heaven. just after that, it must
have been, his horse-that white Mes
senger colt old Williams bred-went
over like log, and poor George was
j pitched fifteen feet headforemosta against
a stake there was In that lot. Julia saw
the whole. She rushed out with all the
women, and had just brought him in
when [ got home. And that was the
reason that the great promised combina-
ton of December, 1864, never came off
at ALL
[ walked out in the lot, after McGre-
gor turned me out of the chamber, to
see what they had done with the horse.
There he lay, as dead as old Messenger
himself His neck was broken. And,
do you think, I looked to see what had
tripped him. I supposed it was one Of
the boys handy holes. It was no such
thing. The poor wretch had tangled
his hind legs in one of those Internal
hoop-wires that Chloe had thrown out in
the piece when I gave her new ones.
Though I did not know it then, those
fatal straps of ruby steel had broken
the neck that day of Robert Lees army.
That time [ made row about it. [
felt too badly to go into passion. But,
before the women went to bed-they
were all in the sitting-room together-I
talked to them like father. I did not
swear. had got over that for while,
in that six weeks on my back. But did
say the old wires were internal things,
and that the house and premises must
be got rid of them. The aunts laughed
though was so serious-and tipped
wink to the girls. The girls wanted to
laugh, but were afraid to. And then it
came out the aunts had sold their old
hoops, tied as tight as they could
tie them, in great mass Of rags. They
had made fortune by the sale-I am
sorry to say it was in other rags, but the
rags they got were new instead of old
it was real Aladdin bargain. The rag
man had been in hurry and not known
what made the things so heavy. [
frowned at the swindle, but they said all
was fair with peddler- and I own l was
glad the things we're well out Of Rich
mond. But when [ said I thought it
was mean trick, Lizzie and Sarah
looked demure, and asked what [ would
lave them do with the old things. Did
[ expect them to walk down to the bridge
themselves with great parcels to throw.
into the river, as | had done by Julia's?
Of course it ended, as such things always
do, by my taking the work on my own
shoulders. told them to tie up all they
had in as small parcel as they could
and bring them to me.
Accordingly, the next day I found
handsome brown-paper parcel-not so
large, considering, and strangely square,
considering which the minxes had put
together and laid on my office table
They had great frolic over it. They
had not spared red tape nor red wax
Very official it looked, indeed, and on
the left-hand corner, in Sarah's boldest
and most contorted hand, was written
"Secret service" We had a great laugh
over their success. And, indeed, I
should have taken it with me the next
time [ went down to Tredegar, but that
L happened to dine one evening with
young Norton, Of our gallant little navy,
and very curious thing he told us.
We were talking about the disappoint-
ment of the combined land attack. [
did not tell what upset poor Schaf's
horse; indeed, I do not think those navy
men knew the details of tho disappoint-
ment. O'Brien had told me, in conf
dence, what I have written probably for
the first time now. But we were speak
ing, in a general way, of the disappoint-
ment. Norton finished his cigar rather
thoughtfully and then said:
"Well, fellows, it is not worth while
to put it in the newspapers, but what do
you suppose upset our grand naval at
tack the day the Yankee gunboats skilled
down the river so handsomely"
"Why," said Allen, who is Norton's
best-beloved friend, "they say that you
ran away from them as fast as they did
from you. :"
EDO they?" said Norton, grimly.
eff you say that I'll break your head
for you. Seriously, men, continued he,
that was an extraordinary thing. You
know [ was on the ram. But why she
stopped when she stopped [ knew as lit
tie as this wineglass does and Calender
himself knew no more than [. We had
not been hit. We were all right as a
trivet for all we knew, when, skree she
began blowing off steam, and we stopped
dead and began to drift down under
those batteries. Calender had to tele-
graph to the little Mosquito, or what
ever Walter called his boat, and the
spunky little thing ran down and got us
out OF the scrape. Walter did right
we'll if he had had a monitor under him
he could not have done better. OF
course we all rushed to the engine
room. What in thunder were they at
there? All they knew was that they
could get no water into her boiler.
CHOW, fellows, this is the end of the
story. AS soon as the boilers cooled off,
they worked all night on those supply
pumps May be hanged if they had
not sucked in, somehow, long string of
yarn and cloth, and, if you will believe
me, wire of some woman's crinoline.
And that French folly Of sham En-