The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1896-02-26
pigeon wing and take other exercises
that his habits Of the day time made

brought great trouble upon him at last
and accounts for his notorious dislike
Of all doctors and his contempt for
hospitals-even the Grady hospital.
One dark night he was taking a little
more than his usual share of exercises
and was never more confident that he
was entirely secret. AS he returned
to his house through a newground he
saw a big hickory log that struck him
as being the very thing that he wanted
for a fire the next day. Up he picked
the log and started for the house with
it on his shoulder, when, 10! just as
he turned around the corner of his
corncrib a voice right at him said:
"Good evening, Mr.. Brown
You ought to have seen that log
drop as Brown slapped both hands to
his sides and moaned:
ooh, my back, my poor, poor
back!"
81 am an officer, MI. Brown, and /
will take you along said the fol-
low.
Nothing that my old friend could
say had any effect on the cruel con
script officer. Brown was marched
away and a board of doctors prescribed
the most severe treatment that ever q
poor fellow was subjected to, but
Brown stood it. His back was coup
ped" and blistered and scarifed till he
could hardly stand or lay, but he grin
ned and moaned, "My poor, poor
back!" To make the story short, the
doctors tried 80 severely to u Brown
to the front by cruel treatment that
his fortitude in the matter gained
their respect and he became a pet
hospital nurse, but to this day the old
man hates doctors and hospitals and
lives in eternal dread Of another war.
To return to the subject Of refugee
ing, I have the story Of a little girl in
my mind that should be kept and
handed down to coming generations as
a sample of heroic acts of the South
ern females.
This little girl belonged to q family
Of refugees that had moved on and on
from place to place to keep out Of the
way Of the invaders, of Virginia, till
the mother found herself settled down
in a lonely old house among the will
derness Of pines that lay around Chan
cellorsville. Her means were exhaust
ed, she could move no more, and 80
she had moved in this deserted old
house as the best that she could do
and had great hope that the seclusion
of she place would shield her from
contact with the invaders. How mis-
taken she was we only have to con-
slider what took place in this lonely
region at the battle Of Chancellors-
vile, under Hooker, and the Wilder
ness, under Grant.
1t is from the battle of Chancellors-
vile hat my story dates. The mother
left her little boy baby and the house
in charge Of this noble little girl, as
she (the mother) went up the river to
a mill that she had heard Of to procure
some bread. After the mother had
gone Hooker crossed wei the river
and the battle of Charlottesville had
begun. The mother was cut off from
her children, and her agony is easier
to imagine than describe. Our little
girl Rugged her baby brother in her
arms and lay fiat upon the floor Of the
old house as the balls shattered and
the shells shrieked through the pine
tops. The house was between the
battle lines and there was no thought
of the soldiers that it was occupied.
It was hard enough that our little girl
should have to stand the fire Of both
armies, but a worse thing was to come.
Above the din Of battle there came a
roar of terror greater than the Shrek
ing of shells or the Sizing Of balls.
The woods were on fire. The flames
came licking the tree tops. Our little
girl knew that her house was doomed
s7d hat it vas death to remain. The
two armies were making the most des-
perate effort to hold the field that they
might save their wounded. The
wounded of both sides appealed to
their comrades and the most terrible
struggle of the war was then being
enacted. Gathering her baby brother
in her slender arms, our little girl
broke out the door between the two
armies and was wildly fleeing to escape
the fire. Bombs broke the limbs and
tore the ground and the small balls
hailed, but the little girl held tight to
the babe and ran with a wildness.
Here came a great shell and then
threw dirt al over our little heroine;
her foot tripped and the baby went
flying in front, while she fell PROSTATE
in the midst of confusion. Quick,
quick, in less han it takes to tell it,
she had regained her feet, again had
the baby in her arms and was again
fleeing. The battle lines of both
armies had seer her. Both armies
ceased firing and all raised their caps
as the little lady passed over the hill
and out Of danger. I do not know if
that little girl is yet living, but [ hope
she is, and I hope that she will raise
up a family as true to the old flag as
she was to her baby brother.
SARGE PLUNKETT.