The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-11-10
MY CORRESPONDENT.

There was n time when neither wrote
stories nor read them. That was when
was great stout fellow, with shoulders
like those they tell of in the old English
ballad of robin Hood" that "measurcd !,
cloth yard' from tip to tip. l rather fan
cied all that sort of thing was for women
and girls, and perhaps l might have
thought so still if had never been to the
army, and had never come back, to sit.
hour by hour, for weary days doing moth
ing. Then began to read works of fiction,
and to wonder, us | found the ones liked
most were the trnest. whether my left
hand writing might not be turned to some
account in jotting down my memories.
and mixing them up with my fancies, as
they say story writers by profession do.
and rs think probable.
was as patriotic as most young fellows,
l hope, but when | marched away | did
think of riding back General Bngnct-
We'll say BaSnet; it's as good a name as
any other. | could see mothers ewes
sparkle and Sister Jean clap her hands for
JOY, but didn't think rs much of that as
of what Miss Stockton would think of it
all. To tell the truth she had driven mo
away from home. l was desperately in
love with her. That might have kept me,
you say. But you see she was the belle of
the place, and her people were very fash.
1onablc and lived in Il great country seat.
with II host of servants to wait upon them.
and we were only farmers, and in busy
Seasons mother and Jean did their own
housework, and l knew l was rough and
unpublished and not fit for her, and under
stood that though she never "took airs"
she felt rs much above me us though we
were not call free and equal" So said
n e..
about it. AS am couldn't win her; iii
90 away with the boys and fight as II sol.
dicr should, and I'll make n name even She
might be proud of, and come back, God
willing, to try my fate" So Rachael Stock
ton did drive me from home, you See and
make soldier of me without knowing it.
L never shall forget how mother took it,
Shewas in the kitchen peeling onions when
went in to tell her. Said she:
Paul, what brings you home SO early?
You re not sick?"
NO, MOTHER" said I, Pm we'll enough
but thought I'd spend the last afternoon
with you. Pm off tomorrow"
CONF cried she. "Whcrc, PaulY"
"To the army" said l. "Ive enlisted"
She dropped the knife she held and sat
down, the great tears rolling down her
cheeks.
They say we mothers should be glad to
send our boys from u.s." she said, "but it's
hard to bear. shan'C ever see you again.
Paul. know that we'll"
why mother" said 1, "what n fancyp'
But fancy or not, she stuck to it, and
kept sobbing softly to herself as though |
were dead. She got everything ready for
me, but she never once stopped crying, and
wentaway leaving her in tears l never
saw her smile again, for month after
ward she died. y fever broke out in the
place, and she was the fourth who fell its
victim. When the news came l wished
almost that had put away all my dreams
of glory and fame and Rachel Stockton,
and staid at home, but it was no use wish
ing. none III the world, and was growing
fond of soldiers life-fond although |
began to understand it better, and to know
that every brave man did not become an
oflicer-although that fancy OF being some
day rich and renowned enough to make
even Miss Stockton proud of me began 10
seem no more substantial than the fancies
of II dream.
One day when | was rather low spirited,
for we were in camp and there was moth.
ing to do but think, my friend Jack Am.
mon came to me laughing.
do you want some fun!naskcd he.
Fun" said l. SIS there any,"
EYES," said he. Join the postoflice
club"
whats thats" asked
"a dozen of us have formed n club, =
said he. We're going to correspond with
any charitable young ladies who will take
pity OH our forlorn situation"
Nonsense" said 1.
Fact" said he
"Well," said l, Sin the first place Pm NO
writer. In the next place don't believe
any girl | should care to correspond with
would write To me-"
Nonsense for YOU" said he. "The girls
think good deal of the soldier BOYS, can
tell you'
They put an advertisement in the Hay
Hill journal, and each of them had u let
ter. Jack showed me one / read it, 1t
was school girlish thing, but pleasant
too. Certainly there was no harm in il.
So joined the club, and wrote letter tc
whoever chose to answer it. The girls
whose real names We're hidden, were told
Of it, and one day an answer came to IN,
signed Leah
1t took my fancy. wrote again. Pretty
soon l began to wish 1 knew who my cor
respondent was Some of the fellows had
their suspicious who wrote to them. One
discovered, | remembered, that it was his
own sister who had been hoaxing him.
had no clew to mine. 1 grew more and
more interested with every epistle, until
at last quite forgot Rachel Stockton in
my unknown friend While we were in
our winter quarters the postoffice club was
was well sustained, but by and by ono
dropped off and then another. Some were
TOO busy to write. a hard days fight takes
fun and romance out of a man.
Jack Ammon was shot. remember the
bullet that killed him passed through the
last letter he had ever had from the school
girl who wrote to him. Will Brush died
of fever. One by one all the correspond
ents ceased their letters except myself
and this mysterious Leah"
was desperately in love with the girl