The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1896-12-16
SARGE PLUNKETT.
A Pleasing Picture of the Old Southern
Plantation Home.
atlanta Constitution.

atlanta Constitution.
Me and Brown have contented our
selves through two days and nights
sitting in our corners by the fire and
listening to the children as they read
"Uncle Remus' or recited pieces from
Stanton and Whitcomb Riley.
We have heard the last book of MIR.
Harris read through and through on
these winter nights and it stirred a
fountain of memories and created
somewhat of a desire with me and
Brown to tell to the world things we
knew in the long ago. am not fool
enough to be led into an attempt at
cine writing, but Brown has per-
suaded me to devote this letter to in
cidents in his life and to the old plan
tation homes and old-time women.
Perhaps 1 have not been hard to per-
suade, for my sweetest comfort lies IN
living over again the years that are
lost to me forever.
On the start, 1 want it understood
that Brown is a co-partner in this
effort. He is a jealous creature and
if I were to slight him there is no
telling what stories he would hatch up
against me. I Will say, though, that
he has led me into we'll nigh all the
trouble 1 have ever had. The worst
whipping l ever had came through
Brown persuadiDg me to act the
George Washington hatchet part when
I had done some mischief. [ went to
my old father as little George had
done, but I liked a heap of being re-
ceived as George was received. My
father walloped me very severely, and
all the time it was being put on
Brown was behind the house jumping
up and down for joy.
But despite some unpleasantries
which befell us, it is one of the sweet
est charms of all to 60 back in memory
to those happy days and dwell upon
the faces we knew, upon the pleasures
we enjoyed and upon all the scenes of
childhood's happy hours,
The old house, the old church and
the old schoo]house Fairgrounds is
stamped upon every mind and clings
to every heart, till I doubt if ever
man grew so wicked or moved so far
away but what a tender chord was
touched by a memory Of these and
something would swell up in the heart
to make them better and happier by
the thought Who is 80 old but he
can remember some sweet face, some
little form, some joyful heart, better
and dearer than all the rest. We all
had our little sweethearts, and I doubt
if there was ever happier love than
the love of childhood days.
Brown was great on having sweet
hearts and there is no harm in my
telling of one of his escapades. When
he was about eighteen he fell in love
with the prettiest girl in our settle
ment and she loved him, but the
father of the girl was dead against
Brown and would have none Of it.
The old father forbid Brown his house
and from speaking to his daug ter,
but they found a way to meet, and
there the story comes. One night
they met under an arbor in the gar
den. All went well until the girl, re-
turning to her room, disturbed the
chickens in the back yard. This
brought the old man out just in time
to see Brown as he climbed over the
pasture fence and, of course, the old
man thought it was thief after his
chickens. 1t was only the work of a
moment to blow the horn and get the
hounds on Browns track. Here they
went, the hounds fresh and the old
man mad. Brown was a powerful
runner, but he soon had to take tree,
and the old man came upon him. I
could never describe Browns feelings
as the old man made him climb down
from that tree, so | draw the veil.
l pass hastily over incidents and
come to speak of the old plantation
homes and Of the women who queened
it there. In my heart l believe there
were never happier homes than the
old homes Of the South before the war,
and never was there, this side of
heaven, a more noble creature than
the old-time Southern women.
God bless these women-they made
the South.
God bless them-they were the
mothers of the heroes of Dixie.
God bless them-they set an exam
pie of virtue, of womanhood and of
motherhood that deserves to bless the
world through all the ages.
Exalted to heaven, adored by man,
she stood the queen at her home, the
mother of children and the Joy of
mankind. No higher round upon the
ladder than hers, nor loftier aim. nor
safer ground for woman than were the
charming graces which marked the
old-time Southern woman Many yet
live who can remember these women,
and they can remember the old planta
tion homes. These homes were pecu-
liarly Southern. Rows of fodder stacks
around the lot, hogs a-squealing,
chickens Growing, dogs a-barking, and
a fullness of life and plenty never
seen but in this sunny land of ours.
Whitewashed cabins with little ne
groes playing around the doors was
part of these old plantations, and
there was nothing of the sadness there