The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1889-09-14
OLD FARMER ANDERSON.
After Twenty.eight Years He Celebrates
the Ending of the Civil War.

i
After Twsnty.eight Years He Celebrates
the Ending of the Civil War.
/ Under the willows at the old spring
house of old Davy Anderson farm,
three miles up the valley from here,
was celebrated recently strange event,
which is the talk of the country folks
hereabouts. The center of group of
friends and neighbors. was old Davy
Anderson himself, and at his right
hand was Percival, his long-absent son.
On the table was demijohn of whisky,
the like of which has probably never
been heard OF in this country, be-
cause it was at the bottom of Davy
Anderson's mill-dam for twenty-eight
years.
The story runs back to the days when
the Southern rebellion begun. Fort
Sumter had been fired upon. Davy
Anderson then was rank Democrat of
the State rights persuasion. During
the war he was known as "Old Copper
head of Cushion Valley" His son Per-
cival was then young man, just past
twenty-one years of age. When news
reached the farm that Southern soldiers
had opened fire on General Anderson
in Fort Sumter, Percival said it was a
shame. He stood up for General An
derson and the cause of the North, al
though there was no relation between
the two families. Old Davy, however,
maintained that if the Southern States
wanted to secede they had right to,
and that there was nothing in the Con-
stitution to prevent it. Percival said
the Union ought not to be divided, and
he was for General Anderson, for the
family name, anyhow. Words between
father and son soon ran high, the
father being in towering rage because
his son dared to oppose him in politi-
cal dispute.
This was in April, 1861 A few
months quickly passed, and father and
son continued their disputes. News of
the war was very slow in reaching the
Anderson farm. At length, when hay
making began, father and son had a
bitter quarrel in the hay field. In
those days, as now, farmers generally
had demijohn of whisky in the field
for the haymakers. Davy had drank
more than he should, and when Perci-
val called his father a rebel sympa-
thizer tho old man raised rake and
broke it over Percival's head. The
farm hands then rushed in and stopped
the fight. Percival went to the farm
house, put on his Sunday clothes, kiss
ed his mother and sisters goodbye,
walked all the way to Harrisburg and
enlisted for the war. He was the only
son. and when Davy Anderson sobered
up and got to the house, he found the
women folks in tears. They would not
be comforted, and Davy was roundly
censured. He wept with them, OF
course, and had nothing to say. The
next day Davy went into the hay field
and dragged from under the brush,
near the spring, that demijohn OF
whisky. It was nearly full, as the hay
makers had not touched it. having
named it Fighting whisky" Davy
took the demijohn to the house, corked
it tightly, encased the cork end So
curely in ball of tallow, and threw
the demijohn in the mill dam, saying:
''Stay there until Percival comes
home, and we'll take drink and make
up"
Percival went to the front, wrote a
few letters home, but finally he wrote
no more. He fought in number OF
battles, and his long silence led his
parents to believe he had either been
killed or taken prisoner. Percival was
captured and taken to Andersonville
prison, from which he escaped and went
on foot to the Everglades of Florida.
For twenty seven years nothing was
ever heard of the missing soldier. The
Anderson family heard from some of
his comrades, who wrote saying he
must have died in the prison pen at
Andersonville.
About a month ago Jacob Shu.er,
a well-to-do farmer at Brecknock, re-
ceived a short letter from Key West,
and, to his utter establishment, it was
signed Percival Anderson. It asked
whether the old folks were still alive,
and if they were, to visit them and
drop few hints that their long absent
'on might still be alive, and might
come home again, Shuler did so, but
the old folks shook their heads sadly.
10 make a long story short, Percival
Anderson arrived two days ago, a tall,
sun-bronzed, brown-whiskered man,
his German brogue all gone, and his
language of the true Southern twang.
He first called on Shuler, and together
they went to Anderson farm. In all
the long years of his absence things
had changed but little. The farm
house. the spring-house, the willows,
the barn and stables looked about as
they did when he left The old folks
were at supper on the back porch. Two
sisters that had never married we're
also there. The meeting of the long
absent son with the family, was touch
ing indeed, and there was not dry
eye among them. It was midnight be-
fore they went to bed; before each had
told his or her history, since they sepa-
ponosvo1 ..:l