The prison mirror. [volume] (Stillwater, Minn.) 1887-1894, 1892-03-31
Lost in a Southern Swamp.

have been lost on prairie in blizzard
and reached the hospitable shelter of a
farm house when about to succumb to cold
and fatigue; have been raft wrecked on
the turbulent Mississippi river and was
saved only by rare presence of mind in
throwing Norway pine log overheard,
getting astride and padding ashore. l have
had other nishaps befall me of humili-
ating and dangerous nature while earning a
precarious livelihood as lightning. rod
peddler. have had passionate and un-
reasonable farmers viciously thrust at me
with pitchforks. with intent to do me great
bodily injury. because their barns. in which
had placed our higher grade ne plus ultra
rods. had been destroyed by lightning.
have been chased by an enraged bull-whose
esthetic taste had shocked by wearing a
red flannel shirt-and reached fence just
in time to be assisted over by the infuri.
ated beast. but these are trifles compared to
the story 1 will now tell.
The incident which l am about to narrate
occurred during the time was engaged in
putting down the rebellion. The mOdesty
of brave men has become proverbial. and as
will not be outdone in modesty by any
man, will qualify the above statement by
saying that in putting down the rebellion
was materially assisted by several hundred
thousand-I haven't the exact figures at
hand-Of the rank and file. We are apt. to
speak lightly of past dangers. but frankly
confess could l have. fOreseen the dangers
and hardships would have to go through
never would have entered into contract
with ''Uncle Sam" to put down the rebell-
ion at the low rate of thirteen dollars per
month. 1t was worth seventeen dollars per
month and pension. But to my story.
One day. on the memorable march from
Atlanta to the Sea, comrade came to me
with dOlOrOus complaints of a disagreeable,
''all gone" sensation in that portion of his
anatomy where nature most abhOrS vac
uum, and proposed that we should go for.
aging for the eSculent yam. and the fleet
footed. razor. back hog. l told my cOmrade
I would be subject to his orders for that
day. and leaving the main column we
marched in right Oblique course through
woods and fields till we came to road run
ming parallel with and several miles distant
from the road we had left. This road led
us through woods for about two miles when
W0 Cdul0 W Stldll Cl0dTluS. "A low GuutUlCU
down out buildings and small log house
indicated the inhabitants as belonging to
that class known in the South as ''pOor
whites" We walked up to the open door;
within were two women, one apparently
fifty years of age. and the other about
eighteen-mother and daughter as we soon
learned. The elder woman talked freely
and we soon learned the family history.
She said all the food they had were few
yams which were roasting in the ashes of
the fireplace. Her husband had been killed
at Atlanta. fighting for the Confederacy.
Her only son. delicate, sickly lad of six.
teen, had been drafted into the Confederate
army, and the poor old mother was we'll
nigh heart broken with the fear that she
would never see her boy again. We had
become accustomed to scenes of suffering,
but the condition of these poor women. de-
prived of their natural protector, without
even the bare necessaries of life. appealed
to our sympathies. We encouraged them
as best we could by assuring them that the
war would soon be over. and the absent son
and brother would be at liberty to return
home; then giving them our scanty hoard OF
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