The Pascagoula democrat-star. (Pascagoula, Miss.) 1878-1920, 1896-05-01
CHURNING STILL.
BY EMMA II. NIGHT.


During the early part of the Val
Icy campaign l was encamped with
my regiment, the -th Ohio, upon
Cedar Creek. 1t was early in May,
and It would have been difiicult to
find Il more picturesque spot. We had
pitched our tents upon the banks Of
the rushing. tumbling creek, girt by
wild looking hills, covered with moss
encrustcd locks and tall, beautifully
tinted grasses. Above the hills rose
the blue Of the mountains, melting
into the softer, tcndercr blue OF Il
morning sky, or vividly outlined
against a rich gold and crimson sun
set. On a hill above us stood a pict-
uresQue old mill, from thcgrcat wheel
Of which the water fell in glittcring
cascades !: higher still was the mllcr's
pretty home. In the yard the bushes
were weighted with roses of purple
and white lilac, while the orchard at
the back Of the house was Il mass OF
white and pink bloom. Nature seem.
ed to rcbukc the grim monster, war,
trailing horror and suffering and de-
vaStatiOn over all her fair beauty,
until for very shame, in that sweet
springtidc, he seemed to hide his head
for Il time, and the songs Of mating
birds replaced the roar Of cannon and
musketry. The miller and his family
up in the pretty farm house might
have forgotten that there was bloody
strife in the fair land. but for our
white tents and blue coated men down
on the banks OF Cedar Creek.
Was there ever a lovelicr springtime
TO me? 1t was time OF peace and
rest, and to me. Of sweet, subtle hap
pincss. or all the week Monday was
the red letter day, for, as the sun rose
up from behind the mountains, ]
with several companions would make
my way up the winding road to lit
tie shed standing under the shadow
of Il giant oak. There we would wait
Watching the gate Of the farm hOus'
high above us. After a little while
that gate would open. and the slende
form of girl, carrying a churn in on
, hand, and a pail OF rich yellow cream
in the other, would come tripping
, down the winding path toward us
g on would 20 all our caps, and stimuli
tancOusly we would cxclaim:
Good morning, MISS Sallic, wc'v
e come u, help you churn."
All, Miss Sallie, Miss Sallie. Lon
years have passed. since then. ar
n gray-headed now, father AYE,
grandfather-but l can see you a
plainly as l saw you then, with tn
: smile on your red lips, the early SUI
: light on your golden hair, and I'll
bloom on your checks as pink rs th
" apple blossoms up in the old orchart
~ And sometimes ask myself q lit
guiltily II any days in after life wei
y ever as happy us these spring NOR
he ings, fragrant with the odor OF rose
when the boys In blue helped the fai
en- faced Southern girl to churn under u
st blossoming oak. How sweet, no
X gracious you were to see US, staunt
little SOutherncr you were! HO
70. merrily you laughed ut our awkwar
W ness in pouring In the cream NJ
" handling the dasher! And all no
pleased were your sweet blue eyes
- . you watched us drink, with such u
nd dsguished relish, the cool, dclicio
buttermilk
M Then une day came tho order
II break camp, and with a dull. hca
nv pain at my heart ! marched up 3
winding road. 1t was M0nday, ju
~s about sunrise, tan, and as VIC went
r.. the farm house we saw Miss Sal
in. standing at the gate with her clu
aud cream pail.
=. "Thrcc cheers for Miss Sallle, cri
n I, one Of the boys, and tllfec loud chez
Inc went up.
She smiled and blushcd, and perlla
:. It xas only my fancy that the bI
'Mne M eyes were sad aud wIstful. The bl'
Js ~. SONS from the oak had formed ~
I'M snowy carpet around the little sh'
A lump rose In my throat as