Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1892-02-24
A WAR TIME ROMANCE.
BY AMY D. wETSIoRE.

quickly. Here Is horse paving OuI
front steps, with a wounded officer
clinging round his neck" cried Ellen
Carter, as she left the parlor window
where she had been sitting, and ran
hastily to the door, followed by her two
old colored servants.
'La Chile, what do it all mean? a
horse acting so human -like-a knockin
dat way, l t'ink it mus he one of our
own soldier boys, he is so shabby
fed"
They were none too soon, for the man
apparently mortallv wounded, fell into
dead faint on the ground, while the
blood was staining his well worn and
tsttered uniform.
"Oh, he is deadl" exclaimed Ellen.
"No, honey, I t'ink not, only faint
like. Uncle Pomp and me will tote him
IN de house, and you, missy. take his
hoss round to de stable. Good nuss-
ing will do something for de poo young
genelmen, 1 guess, said Nanny con-
solingly.
Then the old couple gently picked up
the stranger, and carried him into TIE
front room, while Ellen led away the
horse, who in spite of his evidently
long run, and bad care, showed spirit
and breeding. After his wound in the
arm was dressed, and tied up, the man
opened his eyes, and feebly inquired
"Where he was?" "With friends" he
was assured, and some home made wine
was given him, which seemed to revive
HIM little, and enabled him to ask
them to attend to his horse.
"Dat ism genelman sho, said uncle
Pomp, ito think OF his critter fust, and
dat is a mighty KNOWN hoss any ways,
to bring his poo massa to sich good
quarters. l dun wonder what his name
isl spec he one of the fuss families
from some WHARF"
But the mystery of his identity was
not to be solved for some time at least
The wounded man again sank into un-
consciousness, which so alarmed Ellen
that she begged uncle Pomp to take
the horse, who had ere this been fed
and rubbed down, and go for the doc
tor In the village close by.
More anxious hours, and then the
verdict was pronounced:
Careful nursing, milk, and nourish-
ing food might bring HIM round. The
bullet had evidently passed through
his arm, shattering and breaking it.
slight conclusion of the brain WIS no
doubt the cause of the fever, which with
the exposure and loss of blood had
rendered him very weak. He might
regain consciousness. he might never
speak"
The doctor would look in in the course
of the week, bat with the roads in the
condition they were in, and the general
uncertainty of things he thought they
could manage without him.
In fact, though he hardly admitted
1t to himself, he felt that a life more or
less ii. hose days hardly mattered.
Hence this fOrlorn household was
left with this fresh care.
1t was in November, 1864, and the
war was drawing rapidly to a close.
Poor Ellen Carter as it were, waif of
q lost cause-father, mother and
two brothers had gone from her in the
last three years. All the slaves had
disappeared at the first proclamation !
of liberty, except faithful old Crecy
and her husband Pompey, who were
too much attached to the family, de-
parted as their glory was, to leave |
them. Ellen's father had been killed |
at Bull Run in the very flush of victory;
her mother always delicate had simply |
wilted under the shock and when r q
inRld, the ol1SsG son wa borne home |
-.~i.-i-y wounded from the fields of |
Front Royal, she had literally died OF a |
broken heart, begging with her last
breath, that aunt Crecy would not de- |
sert Ellen and the youngest boy. Con- !
rad had not then enrolled in the army,
but carried away with the excitement |
of the times, and feeling that his coun-
try needed all her sons, he joined |
Lee,
Bloody Gettysburg was his first and |
last battle, and poor Ellen was bereft |
indeed.
The old historic family place had |
simply been the camping ground for |
both armies, so with few of their |
treasures saved from the wreck, Pcmpey |
and Crecy brought their young Mistress |
and charge to this small old house, |
which years before had descended to |
the Carriers from some departed rela- |
tive.
In this retired nook, near a dull vii |
lage these three remnants of a once |
lordly mansion, had spent the last |
twelve months. How they lived was a |
mystery to all-nothing indeed, but |
the ingenuity and thoughtfulness of |
these old slaves, had kept life in poor |
little Ellen. Piece by piece of family |
silver had been disposed of for paper |
money, which made DIP in quantity |
what 1t lacked in quality
Alasl even then it would not do to |
inquire too carefully into what the !
dishes were made of, which aunt Crecy |
insisted upon calling "diuner" and /
serving up In comparative style.
Christmas now was nearly here, and |
still the unknown had made no sign of |
returning sense. a heavy slumber |
seemed to possess him, and only when |
he was aroused to take little nourish- |
ment, did he show any sign of life.
His three devoted nurses were sitting !
in the parlor, appropriated for his bed |
room. Ellen was close to half dead |
fire, wringing her cold hands, and |
wrapped in shawl.
s'He is gittin' real good lookin," NUT
tered Pompey, who was near the bed; !
81 dun tlnk he favors Massa Reggie"
why do ais said Ellen, glancine
the fair, high bred face with the |
brown wsvy curls pushed off the fore
head. "His eyes are Just the color of |
poor Conrad's-bright blue, if he
would open them long enough to see
them"
"He gittin' fat too; it am the chicken
soup guess. "4ded aunt Crecy.
"Oh, auntie, wanted to ask Won
about that; 1Ohere did you get the
chicken?"
"Neber you min honey, uncle Pomp
hs tends to dat"