Passaic City record., 1891-09-19

So that it was as she told him 1t would
be- She could not rest under his flag.
They were, indeed, sundered; battle lines
and picket posts were between them.
great weariness came upon Smedley.
His strength was slowly returning, but
his mind diseased" left him no peace and
but little rest. AS soon as he was able to
mount horse he rode back to the hills,
traced the long lines of Notifications,
and surveyed the spot where he had dashed
at the works at the head of his noun
taineers.
Perhaps 1t would have been better if
that had ended it for me, he mused.
Five miles back was his great cotton
plantation, inherited from his father,
where his own childhood and youth had
been passed. He rode over to visit it.
More than two years had gone since he
had viewed that familiar and beloved
it had lived in his airv
dreams, from Shiloh down to Vicksbur3.
He had ictured day when, the war be-
ing over and gone, he should come back
to this beautiful home with Isabel. Life
would be something worth living then;
he would be one of the largest planters
on the river; his people," as he called
his hundred slaves, would never leave
him, bond or free; he would raise great
crops of the staple, and accumulate
wealth for Isabel to enjoy; perhaps part
of the time they would live in her house
at Vicksburg, and an occasional long visit
to New Orleans and Cincinnati would
give them variety and help to make life
60 on smoothly and prosperously.
Alas for the dreams that We're! Already
they had been rudely shattered by that
fatal interview with Isabel, and even the
poor fragments were now to be swept
away. The horseman drew rein bv the
wide entrance to the grounds and looked
sadly up the broad avenue of oaks. Only
blackened ruins marked the spot where
the noble mansion once stood; outbuild-
ings, cabins, all had been consumed.
A bent and decrepit old negro hobbled
up, and, grasping the riders bootleg,
uttered cries of joy.
why, bress my pore ole soul, Mas
Charles, wha' yo' been SO long? Dey
said yo' was dead"
I've been fighting for the Union, Jere-
miah."
"Yo' has? Goodl Use powerful glad
yo's come back. Now dey's quit tightin'
roun' heah, won't yo' build up de ole
place? De boys an girls will come home
some oh 'em-when dey know yo's heah
Dey're scattered all roun now."
The war is not done yet, Jerry; can't
tell When IL Will Uo, VI uOW eAeiA leci
about the old home then. How was the
place burned?"
Las Janiver de fire catched. dunno
how, only dat night de sojers was all
over de house, buildin big fires in de
chimbly- places, and raisin' de debbil, as
usual. Oh, tell yo', Mars Charles, eber
since yo' bin away desc soffs most broke
my pore heart wiv deyre drefful doins'!
Sometimes de Lincum bows come. some
times de reps, an L deciar to goooness
tink one lot bout as bad as fodder. Dey
orders de niggers roun', an breaks up de
chairs for kindlin', an pulls up de car
pets fo' blankets, an rips up de sofa bot
tom to see if dere's money hid in it, an
steals some OBJ de dishes an smashes de
rest, and dey makes great charcoal pic
lures on de walls OBJ de debbil, sometimes
holdin' Ole Abe in his claws, sometimes
Ole jeff. Oh, it was awfu. But eber
since de fire dey's been nothing to come
peace ober in de ole pig-pen."
Smedley gave the old fellow some
money, comforted him with the assur-
ance that he would return some time, and
rode away.
More than ever, now, he felt alone, cut
off from human ties and sympathies. He
was always welcome at post headquarters
and at the mess-tables of the officers of
the garrison, but he felt that his days o.
usefulness were over, and that he had
nothing to live for but the past. He
thought it would be relief if he could
go back to the army, and again share it's
strange, wild life. There would be OBJ
livion in that, at least; there would be
activity, excitement-perhapsr rest When,
near the end of that September, he read
in the newspapers from the Northwest the
long and stirring story of Chickamauga,
with its alternate tides of defeat and
victory, his spirit was reused again as at
the blast of bugle. With the paper in
his hand, he sought the Post Surgeon,
who had lately had charge of his case.
ITO BE Continued