Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1894-05-11

much ez place to bury hisself on
lnnll o hisn, an he made a will cuttin'
Tom off without a nickel.
The kunnel owned monstr'us big
plantation down Lexington way, an
allns KEEP open house, but arter Tom
listed he shet hit up, manermitted his
slaves an moved up hyar where the
fo'kscs wuz powerful clever to the
yankee refugees, an fed an sheltered
'em by the hundred. Then John Nor
gan raided throo hyar on his way frum
Virginny, his men rid down Caney.
Twas dark mite when they passed
throO' an the old kunnel wuz ct one NV
the winders NV the stun house watchin'
'em go by.
''They he'd all passed, an he WIZ
griffin his teeth an cussin' 'em sorter
low like when he hearn suthin' movin'
erbout his stable. Quicker'n a flash
he grabbed his double barreled shot
gun an sneaked out to see who twas.
He's no coward, the ole kunnel amt,
an when he mos re'ched the stable, he
called out
.'Who's thar?'
ga confedrit SOL begun the
stranger, an them wuz the last words
he ever spoke.
"Thc kunnel tore loose with both
barrels, a the stranger drapped 'ithout
ever so much ez battin' his eyes. The
kunnc yelled fur the hands an lite,
an' when hit wus fotched, diskivered
tibet he'd killed boy nv erbout Toms
aigc, dressed in ragged confederate
uniform.
Bury him. ordered the kunnel,
an the mex day the man drug the
body down hyar an dug grave.
"Wall the kunnel never menshuned
IL circumstance nv the shootin', an
h\lanlsnever talked to nobody. One
q RIetter cum fur the kunnel, an
hit wuz writ thet Tom he'd been
hot ded in one NV the big battles that
glK fit way up in Virginny.
Heaven hev marcy on the boy,
I'd the kunnel, sorter husky-like,
vhen he read them words, an the mex
tay he mounted his hoss critter an
ia off. Fo'kses say thet he went all
tile way to Virginny an hunted high
an' low fur Toms body. Twas no use,
though. 1t he'd been chucked into q
trench erlong with hull passel more
1v unknowns. He KEN back hyar
Iookin' twenty vars older, an jess
'het hisse'f up in the stun house. He
stayed thar like a groun' hog in his
burrer till arter s'render. Then he
KEN out, rid off ag'in, an when he
KEN back fotched thet monument with
him. Sence then he's done nuthin'
but tend to hit an the bed of posies
inside the stun fence thar. Thet's the
story NV the kunnel's monument, ez
nigh ez kin arrove ct hit.
So interested had 1 become in
listening to Gabe's story, and so alb
'orbed was he in the telling, that
neither of us had noticed the approach
Of a third person. When he had
finished and 1 looked up there stood a
lew PAGES behind us a tall, broad
shouldered man, quietly dressed, with
face bronzed by years of exposure
to wind and sun, and the faintest trace
Of silver in his hair and moustache. /
was about to greet him when Gabe
whispered:
Thar kums the ole kunnel now.
We'd better mosey, fur he's monstr us
oncivil to stranger folk"
Turning from the bronzed- faced
stranger, / saw white-ha man,
who walked feebly and leaned on the
arm of a colored servant, slowly ap.
preaching from the other side of the
plateau. Feeling instinctively that il
would be sacrilege to intrude my
idle curiosity upon this old mans sa-
cred heart sorrows, l backed slowly
toward the horses.
The hite-haired man lifted hit
head, and his eyes wandered from the
monument to Gabe and me, finally
resting upon the stranger. Suddenly
he threw off the supporting arm of the
servant and started forward.
"Toml My sonr" he cried, ant
held out his trembling old arms.
'Fatherl'' was the one word tha
ieil from the newcomers lips, ant
rushing forward he was clasped to th,
eolonel's heart.
A few days afterwards, in the offie,
Of the Phoenix Hotel, at Lexington,
came face to face with the colonel nm,
his stalwart son, no longer dead ant
buried unknown soldier of the C. S
A. The recognition was mutual an,
the younger man held out his hand.
II am Tom 0utherwaite," he said,
with frank smile. ''This is m,
father, Colonel Jeems Outherwaite
We met You the other day in Wolf,
county, and 1 presume you know th,
story Of the monument. Well, tn,
Yankees didn't kill me, an,
since Appomatox I've been prett,