Middletown transcript., 1895-03-02

1ILNok\V( with Vl0lets.
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MSMSM From q yard
NSM4R\M across the way
Vlkft N1kN their odor 1oated
M\\N/ /~ even to where
/M% old Caleb sat OD
~ ~A the courthouse
steps. Above the gray old Negr"
cleaned the white Doric columns of
the House of Justice.
Caleb was the most bedecked old Ne
gro to be seen out of Congoland. He
wore tall white hat, blue frock
coat-some twenty brass buttons a.
dorned that coat-a steel chain (pre
sumably for a watch he wore), a chair
that crossed his breast four times,
Sundry charms and bangles dangling
about him gave him an appearance i'm
posing as that of a Knight of the Gar
ter. This was his usual attire. He
felt that such elaboration Of toilet Wa
due lis position he was general sweep
er and cleaner of these Offices and thi
House of Justice. He rang the grea
bell when courts were in session. He
fed the flock of pigeons that lowered
about the courthouse belfry and the
Jail tower. Manifold as his duties were
he had comparative leisure now; even
Commissioners Court was adjourned.
He sat basking in the pleasant aftel-
noon sun, looking with unflagging i'll
terest down the vista of old shops and
new-set young water oaks.
In front of one shop sat his quondan
owner, sometime employer, and a.
ways his object Of devotion. Yer!
old and worn looked the Major in til.
bright light that fell over him. Hi.
neatly brushed clothes were ver,
shabby. his handsome old face ano
military air were very imposing. Hh
rattan stick and cork leg were resteo
out on a splint-b ,ttomed chair before
him. His gestures, as he talked t"
the group of gentlemen about him,
were excited. He was probably tell
ing a story of the war, possibly telling
the same story for the hundredth time.
Caleb was trying to match the excited
gestu ures with his own experience. and
so guess at the particulars of the story;
for he had followed young Travis
Calvert through fighting, wounding ana
Imprisonment. His efforts after the
the thread of the story were interrupted
however, by the rolling of a handsome
carriage between him and his master.
Down in a moment went the Majors
cork leg, up the Majors stiff body, off
the Majors soft hat; and just so often
as lady passed, or driving or walking,
Just SO often and elaborately was the
Majors story interrupted.
In the present instance the lady was
Miss Lorena Banks, fair, fat and much
over forty. Her carriage drew up al
the post office, too far for either Caleb
or the Major to hear her fdgety in
uuiries after the Woman's Work, thai
came always, on Wednesday; the
the Lofty Choir Weekly, that failed t"
come last evening; and the Portrayel
of Fashion, that must be in the offic.
now, and must be searched for.
Tho Caleb could not hear the sharp
tones, he could note very we'll the gloss
and elegance of the equipage. From
his smattering knowledge of deeds,
titles, rent notes, crop liens and the
like, he knew very well the goodly
amount of the lady's income. Some
thing, maybe the insistent odor OF
yiolets in the air, maybe tae red glow
of the camellia-japonicas on the coats
of the university boys as they saun-
tered by him, themselves glowing with
youth and brightness, every four out OF
five smiling over valentine; anyhow,
something set Caleb thinking Of the
long ago. It was of sixty-one, the
thirteenth of February, and bitterly
cold inthat intrenched camp, called by
grace Fort Donaldson, Grant threat
ened by land, Commodore Foot by
water. To help in the land attack,
unexpected and unprepared for, unit
the fall of Fort Henry, the soldiers
were throwing up earthworks at
hastily as might be. Under bitter
snow and sleet they shoveled cheerily
at the red earth.
Side bv side worked Travis Calvert
and bis body servant, Caleb. Down IL
concert swept the arm of master and
slave, up in unison heaved the shovels
of earth.
Caleb remembered to-day how Cal
vert had said to him thatday: "WheI
get snatch Of time, Caleb, l am 60.
ing to write letter 10 MissLorsna.
am going to give it to you. and if, il
the Engagements to come behind these
earthworks am killed, you send it tt
her. If come out safe l'll send il
myself"
Caleb had said: "You talk bout git
TIM killed, Marse Travis; what yo' m'
gwine to say to that?"
"Me being killed would break Zen
up a. home, wouldn't it? But" con
tinued the young soldier, II am goinf
to have no more shilly-shally abou
this letter. love that girl. ! alway
win, always have loved that girl, and