The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1888-07-21
An Adventure.

A young Pert who had lately completed
her education on being required to assist
in the kitchen called cooking. one of
the sad realities of life. and that in Hea-
ven there was no cooking" all that sort
OF thing went on in another place; and
that there it amounted to but simple
roast will say nothing Of her pouring
kerosine Oil by mistake for Vinegar
over my Cucumbers, She calls up an in
delible reminiscence. During the Civil
War. was quartered with Walls Legion
Texans. THE Devils own" On the va
zoo River, Miss" The plantation on
which we camped belonged to Mr.
Phillips, in his yard was favOrite Grove
of HickOries. Shortly after the event I
am about to narrate." met Mr.. P. who
told me his HickOries all died, not one
escaped to point the MORAL or adOrn
the Tale"
The day before the battle of Snyders
Bluff, soldier brought to my tent an
enormous turtle; bought it and prOmis-
ed to gratify the Boys with turtle soup,
before going into line to be shot at.
When these sad reflections Overcame
me. Here lies one with no speculatiOns
in those eyes. Turtle eyedare not gifted
in that way, whose destiny reveals that
he had been the victim Of the slings and
arrows Of outrageous fortune, whose ma
tural hue of resolution could not be sick
lied over with the pale caste Of thought
and with the means afforded by an ad-
yanced morality and science, had shut
fled off his mortal Coil; and was metem-
sy chosed into one invulnerable to the
ills that flesh is heir to, and in further
expiatiOn, condemned to pass through
digestive apparatus of SatOnic inven-
tiOn. preparatory to which it must be
initiated into CauldrOn Of boiling wa
ter, that Bourne from whence the ira
weller will ne'er return and from thence
through the "grasping rasping" mysteries
Of its final doom. The occasion excited
no little interest and much curiosity.
To see the soldiers around the CauldrOn
watching progress, reminded me of the
witch scene in Mac Beth, my Hospital
steward, and quOn dam cook chunck
with large prOtuberan. eyes, and lids
that vainly concealed the mischief that
therein lurked chunkey head and
face with gaping DOstrils, long yellow
hair from back of his head float
ing down his back like a horses
tail, gave him the name of pOney he with
the last tallOw candle fOurishing it sug-
gestively in his fingers, slyly, but then
thought modesty insinuated that it took
grease to make soup, trne enough / had
forgot all that, and there was no grease
but | saved the candle, jar of soft soap
was convenient and took few spoons
full of that, not many. and threw them in
to the intense qualification of my quOn-
dam Cook. and which was participated by
the rest of the lockers on. After while
a cracked screechy voice grOwls against
the perfume emitted from the Soul in the
CauldrOn strong OdOr of Lye rather un-
pleasant, but as luck would have it,
package Of Soda was handy. Tobacco
Rum and Soda are Texans outfit in
went the Soda, and fixed it up all right.
The Soup was finished and apparently
success, the news spread, then comes a
rush of plates, tin Cans, broken Canteens
and spoons with pieces Of handles, some
with whole handles; dishrags were scarce.
Shirt rags they rebelled against, and
moss used as Substitute. All were ser
we'd, and my attention was attracted by a
fellow, who divided with a favorite dog,
and left the tent, to join the boys in the
yarl, who We supposed were hilariOses
over the Soup then 10, and behold, the
dog vOmited the Soup. And the scene in
the yard, beggars description; Tableau
for a Raphael. Such Star puking. Against
each Hickory on the Grove rested the
FrOntispiece Of Texan his face lit ny
like fire, and the Volcanic GrOans that
accompanied the opening Of their Craters
as the Bile like Lava spurted ont, and
cascaded over the long brown and black