The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1886-10-07
CHERRYCOTE FARM.

nine miles OF muddy roads behind that
beast and in that rattIe-trap?" a gentle
man said, discontentedly surveying the
conveyance provided for him by an
obIging countryman residing near the
station of the Virginia railway, where a
way-train had recently deposited the
stranger.
swell, 'ta;n't as eff thar was much to
choose from, mister, was the answer.
IF you're mind to wait till evenin', the
stage mout happen along. But, bless
yore soul, sab, ole Buck II carry you
thar eff you only give him time enough.
An reckon the buggy won't break down
tween this and the blacksmith's at the
crossroads. Thar's string an rope an a
lot O. nails under the buffler-robe, an
little Poss here'n manage to mend the
damage eff so it be that thar's a rock to
pick up long the roadside"
"May / drive, boss?" was the hesitat-
ing prayer of little Poss Short for pos
sum-, as the dilapidated vehicle, drawn
by spawned plough-horse, got finally
under way. Looking down with amuse-
ment at his excited petitioner, Barksdale
saw droll little darkey, costumed in
meal bags, hatless, and with plated
twigs of WOOL who, when the rope reins
were reIinquished into his hands, as
sumed the post of charioteer with dig
nifty ineffable.
Barksdale forgot Poss and every thing
besides, as the overmastering power of
early association took possession of him.
Ten years before he had left the neighbor-
hood through which they were now pass
ing, at the outset of the war between the
states, and during all that time the his
tory Of its places and its people had been
almost a sealed book to the wanderer in
many lands. He had fancied himself
weaned from his sentimental love for old
Virginia; but here he was craning his
neck to look at the ancient landmarks,
recalling rides ending at this point and
picnics at another, his cheek flushing,
and lump coming into his throat, like
the veriest school-boy home for the holi-
days. The country was beautifully
green, and as old Buck plodded along he
had nothing to do but resign himself to
memory and anticipation, while the
spring wind, laden with fragrance from
the blossoming woods, blew over him re-
freshingly.
AT last Cherrycote farm was reached,
but before they could enter it little Poss
jumped down to struggle with an old
red gate of such persistent inhospitality
that Barksdale himself could only force
it open by half lifting the gate post from
the crumbling soil.
Barren acres" he said with sigh,
glancing over what were once prosper
GUS fields Of grain. Grass grew on the
roadway, and multitude of little blue
star flowers were crushed beneath their
wheels. Emerging from a bit of
pine woods, he caught sight of
the gables of the old house. They
at least were unchanged, half yelled from
sight by Virginia creeper and wistaria,
jasmine and roses. His old room was
that one with the window, over which
grew the branch of a mulberry tree, its
foliage so thick that neither blind nor
curtain was required. AS BRrksdale
gazed he saw, coming from the shrub
berry around turn in the road, cava-
ier bestriding a mule. This was a man
seemingly between so and 20 years old,
his once clear-cut features overgrown
with flesh, and wearing a long brown
beard of liberal proportions. His frame,
albeit, trifie unwieldly, was muscular
his eyes were of an honest blue; his seat
in the saddle, even though the steed was
of the present menviable class, admira-
BILE. His clothing consisted of a pair of
corduroy breeches tucked into spurred |
cavalry boots, and a nondescript shoot |
ing jacket faded by sun and rain, with a !
broad-brimmed hat of straw showing |
marks of home manufacture. At the |
first sight of Barksdale his brows knit |
inquiringly; in a moment he charged |
down upon the antique buggy with mill
tary dash.
aLanoe, old fellowln he cried. at isn't
possiblel"
Hall" exclaimed the other simultane-
ously, in tone that meant much. I'm
mediately two hands met in fervent !
friendship. Since these hands had |
grasped each other last river Of blood /
had flowed between them. Bitter words /
had been spoken, hot discussions had
ragged, party strife had swelled resentful |
hearts; but now, when the half brothers
met again, neither thought eff anything
but the early ties of blood and affection
ate companionship. Barksdale, thin,
active, and embaImed with the atmos-
phere of foreign travel, his clothes scrup-
ulously well cut, his speech refined to
nicely, appeared at least five years
younger than the bluff. sunburnt Virginia
squire, who was, in reality, considerably
his Junior. They were the SONS of a Vir-
ginia gentleman, who, left a widower
with one small boy when he was hardly
out of college, had consigned the little
Lancelot to the care of his mothers rel
atives in the north. Marrying a second
time in Virginia, Mr.. Barksdale had set
tied down to peaceful agricultural ex-
istence on the estate belonging to his
bride, zone of the Carriers Of Cherrycote
farm, as that lady was styled.
Hither Lancelot had come to spend
many happy hours of irresponsible holi-
day in the free and easy life of old-time
Virginia Here he had learned to feel
sincere affection for his kind step-mother
and her boy Hal. But at the outset of
the war his northern training and SYM
pathies in political faith set a terrible
stumbling block in the path of the fam
ilv @pIeasantness. Unwilling to contest
the fervid torrent of secession talk, he
at first kept silent. This led to suspicion,
and finally to open warfare ON the part
of the generous people who had once ex-
tended their arms to him. His father
had died, and the widow, an ardent
southerner, learned to look on him with
constraint Even Hal, merry, hand
some Hal, who had adored the ground
Lance trod upon, began to quarrel with
him. There was nothing for it bat re-
treat. Lancelot returned to his northern
home, and soon heard the news that Hal
had become a volunteer at Manassas.
After that there was long and painful
gap in their relations. 1t was while
aimlessly around Europe ten /
years later that Lancelot made up bis /
mind to return to America, and to visit |
the home of his fathers. The resolu- !
ton once taken was acted upon with |
almost feverish ZEAL Now that |
be had again shakcn Halls hand, had sat
isfied himself that the slim lad of 10 was |
still somewhere lurking behind the veil |
of adipose matter enshrouding the man
of 20, Barksdale breathed long sigh OF /
relief. As for the squire he was one OF
those o7IiIeIess natures content to taxa