The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1886-05-29

| PREVIOUS 10 his death he is said to la,
preached sermons to imaginary audi
ences.
Although Father Rvan's tributes tc
the Southern Confederacy are classed
among the War Songs of the South they
are in no sense songs, any more than is
"Sheridan's Ride" OF the Revolution.
airy Rising" Patriotic Hymns would
be more nearly correct. They are
poems-clear-cut, simple, fautess-as
poems. Not word mars their simple
beauty.
His two most celebrated productions
are "The Conquered Banner" and
The Sword of Lee" Both are too
well known to bear repetition here
with the exception of stanza from
each. Sadness is felt when he says:
Furl that Banner for I IS weary;
Round its staff I is dropping dreary;
Fml it, fold it, it is best;
For there's not a man to wave IT.,
And there's not sword to save 1t,
And there's not one left to laye it
In the blood which heroes gave it,
And its foes now scorn and brave it.;
Furl it, hide it-lct It rest.
And listen to the following strain from
the harp of inspirations:
Out Of its scabbard Never hand
Waved sword from stain as free,
Nor purer sword led bravcr band,
Nor braver blcd for a brighter land,
Nor brighter land had Il cause as grand,
Nor cause, chief like Lee.
Now can it be wondered at in the least
that with brave officers in command, and
with poets likeFatherRyan in the ranks,
breathing inspiration and imparting
magnetism all about them, that mere
handful of men waged so long and des-
perate battle? Neither can it be Won
dered at that the surviving "boys in
grey love to meet their old leaders,
from their President to the surviving
generals; and when death freezes their
hearts, ii is right to remember the gal
liant dead, both North and South, blue
and grey,-all Americans-with the
gifts of beautiful and fragrant flowers.
n ~
Now let's see how it will affect us to
sing a Confederate song that was sung
in many Texan camp. 1t won't hurt
us any more than did Father Ryan's.
The song was entitled,
HERE'S YOUR MULE.
a farmer came to camp one day,
With milk and eggs to sell,
Upon mule who oft would stray
To where no one could tell.
The farmer, tired OF his tramp,
For hours was made fool
BY every one he met in camp,
With, Mr., here's your mulel"
CHORUS:
Come ON, come on, come on old man,
And don't be made Il fool,
I'll tell the truth as best | can,
John Morgan's got your mule.
His eggs and chickens all were gone
Before the break of day,
The mule was heard of all along,
That's what the soldiers say.
And still he hunted all day long
Alas! the wltlcss fool
While every man would sing the song
OF "Mr.. here's your mulc!"
The soldiers now in laughing mood
On mischief were intent,
They toted muly ON their backs
Around from tent to tent;
Thro' this hole and that they pushed
His head, and made rule
To shout with humorous voices all,
Mr., here's your mule"
Alas! one day the mule was missed.
All! who can tell his fate?
The farmer, like man bcreft,
Searched early and searched late;
And as he passed from camp TO camp,
With stricken face, the fool
Cried out at cy'ry one he met,
TO- Mr., where's my mulc?"
Last week we made trip over the
Raleigh & Augusta Air Line railroad
from Raleigh to Hamlet and were struck
with several things. First, we noticed
that four out of every five fields that last
year were used for cotton, now are in
grain. Sensible! Second, we noticed
that the blackberry crop will be enorm-
Gus. Many thousands of bushels of
berries annually go to waste. More
canneries and evaporating machines are
needed here. Another thing noticeable
is the adaptability of the soil to the
growth of red clover, large meadow of
which, in bloom, attracts the attention
at Sanford. You see, down here there
has been too much theorizing, and too
little practical experiment.
+. p. WOODWARD.