Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-08-14
A REBEL EXPLOSIVE.
BY NJ. S. D.

miles inland, at a small farm house be-
longing to Confederate farmer. Here
1 fell in with young lieutenant from
Vermont regiment, Ephraim Baxter by
name, who had been badly wounded in
the head, and consequently incapacitated
like myself, from keeping up with the
army.
We both felt downhearted enough as
we saw the last straggler, and heard the
last bugle-call of our companions die
away in the distance, leaving US behind,
sick, wounded and unprotected in the
enemy's country.
However, we tried to make the best Of
matters, swearing eternal friendship over
our pipes, and forming firm compact
to stand by each other to the death. l
soon found out that my companions
wound made him extra nervous and even
Eighty at times when the pain in his head
was very bad, and this irregularity of
imagination took the form of extreme
suspiciousness of everybody and every
thing, a phase that was anything but
comforting, situated as we were.
sHurrah, hurrah! Well shout the jubilee,
Hurrah, hurrah! The flag that set you Free"
he sang at the top of his voice, tapping
his pipe on the sill of the farmhouse
window.
"Anything to keep ones spirits up; l
could knock out the little brains the bull
let left in my noddle, to think of it all.
It's just my confcunded luck all through.
No one to talk to here but the old man
and woman and that sulky niger am
as hungry as a catamount. I'll go in and
hurry up the tea and fixings." So saying
he began to pound at the bolted door, by
| no means in the sweetest of tempers, for
his wound was just then paining him
good deal.
eff had my pistol here, I'd darned
soon blow in this door and fetch 'em IN
hurry"
ssThe old mans coming, l hear him
! shutting" l said 'EDon't get impatient
Baxter; the old folks are deaf, and dare
say no more pleased to have us here than
we are obliged to stay; it's our interest to
keep them sweet"
"Oh, you're too civil to them by half,
cap'n. I've been prisoner once over
yonder in Libby, and l know 'em, darn
their rebel skins. | wouldn't trust 'em
an inch from my nose. Shuttle, shuttle
hear him. Come long and open this
door," he shouted, loud enough to waken
the seven sleepers.
"Why, | declare, | hear horses hoofs, y
l said, listening again:
"That's some reb trick get your
pistol ready, cap'n.''
"Nonsense!' replied, as the door OF
the farmhouse this moment flew open,
and a rough looking, sinister-faced man
in ragged dress, SLOUGH hat, and long
boots, came out leading a horse. His
saddlebags were stuffed full of something,
ank he carried a pistol and bowie knife
IN his belt, while a horn was slung back
over his shoulders. He scowled at us as
he leaped on his horse.
"What have you got in them bags?'
asked Baxter
"What's that to you, mud-sill!'' an
swered the man, looking down at his
pistol, "who was your niger last year,"
And saying this, he struck spurs in his
horse, blew his horn loudly, and dashed
down the road out of sight.
'Didn't tell you, cap'n. it was an all
fired reb?" cried the lieutenant excitedly.
''By golly! l wish I'd shot him with
my shooter"
Just then the farmer, -browed,
sour looking old man, with weeks
stubble on his chin, came past us, look
ing down the road as he shaded his eyes
with his hand.
"Who are you looking for, sir?'' l in
quired.
The old mans eyes twinkled malicious
" as he turned slowly around, saying:
81 am a-looking fur my friends tn
Gomez
sThere, durn him, didn't tell you so,
cap'n? He's looking for the rebs, and we
shall be cut up into apple sass, % cried
Baxter, feverishly. CHOW look here, old
SKUNK he went on, turning sharp on
the astonished old man, and laying a
heavy brown hand on his shoulder, tive
are officers of Uncle Sans army, ana we
insist in knowing who that fellow was
who has just galloped off so slick"
'sThat man with the saddle bags?'
eyes
eThat varmint with the blue coat and
the"
eyes, yes"
"What! the fellow that bowed that
horn?"
eyes, you pesky old COON"
ssHim that come out jest befo' me?'
eyes, 1 tell you. Come, no more slid
| ing about--answer."
sThat? Why that's the Slopercreek
postman, that is" said the old man cack-
ling and exploding with a vexatious
laugh. "Wal, l reckon you is the queer
est Yanks ever seed IN these parts"
"What! That the postman and carries
pistols?"
eyes; obliged to, the roads is so full Of
these snakin' thieves who tend to b'long
to the army, and do nothing but rob and
steal and murder honest folks--hang
'em."
"Look here, you venerable coon,'' said
Baxter, "you just keep a civil tongue in
your shaky jaws, or I'll soon settle your
hash for you. We don't intend taking
none of your sass. Jump around quick
now and get us some supper.
Someway my better judgment was
overruled, and began to regard the old
couple with the same suspicion which
nv comrade had toward them, his mis-
trust injecting me in spite of myself.
That night when we went to bed--we
slept in the same room--Baxter broke out
again. He was very feverish and rest
less. All at once he bounced out of the
bed. :,
"Look here, cap'n," said he, excitedly,
dancing about. 81 can't sleep here, no.
how. Depend upon it, there's some mis-
| &c h,o,r;n r.. tho + old skunk is too ulliet