The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1896-05-27
9uaersoa gmteIItgemeer.
SARGE PLUNKETT
PLUNKETT'S WEEKLY CHAT.
atlanta Constitution.


think that he never lodged from a
bomb in his life, nor ever exerted him.
self to keep out of the clutches of the
conscript officers in the "late unpleas-
antness."
I cannot say how long this martial
spirit will remain with my old friend,
but anyhow it indicates that all the
prospects of a war about Cuba, or a
war about anything else has passed
away. 1t is a comfort to me to see
such evidence that We are to have nc
more war. l am sure that it will do
to bank upon, for I know Brown so
well that [ am sure he could smell it
and feel it in his bones if there was
the least symptoms in hat direction.
But this martial spirit, which has
taken possession of Brown, has filled
our settlement with stories long for
gotten, and as I consider them better
than political wrangling, Ihave joined
in myself and spun afeW for the young
sters.
I am mighty careful now about the
stories 1 tell, for it is an easy mat
ter to shake peoples faith in your
veracity even if you tell them very true
things, yet strange things, to those
who know nothing about war as itreal-
ly is.
Some twenty years ago I got up a
reputation down in Pike as being a
very great liar-just from relating war
stories, and in some localities of that
good old county the unjust stigma still
clings to me.
One rainy day at Holland store,
when a fne-looking stranger rode up,
tied his horse and made himself easy
among the boys, he went to telling
about things that happened on the
Mississippi river during the war, and
they seemed so strange to the plain
Pike farmers that Tom Irwin turned
to him at last and asked:
"Look here, stranger, aren't you a
terrible liar?'
''That is the reputation I bear in
Arkansas" answered the stranger.
''Wouldn't you like to see him and
Plunkett together?" asked Tom, turn
ing to his county friends. The stran-
ger at once became inquisitive about
Plunkett, and remarked that If the old
man was a liar worthy his steel he
would not mind riding a few miles out
of his way to see such a man. They
told him where I lived, and here he
came on. I was sitting on the porch
when he rode up and asked
Does Plunkett live here ?"
EYES, said T, II am Plunkett."
'sMr. Plunkett, I learned over at the
store that you was a terrible liar2"
THAT is what they say" I answer
ed.
"Well," continued the stranger, II
have roGe by to swap a few with you.
[ was with Grant at Vicksburg, and
very often we loaded our cannon with
rebel prisoners instead of shell, and I
was hurt by one of these fellows. I
was ramming him in the gun and have
still some Stiffness from that hurt, and
I hope you will save me the trouble of
dismounting and step this way.
"Well stranger" said I, slowly,
'sas I happened to be one of the fell
lows you fired over into Vicksburg
and a little stiff myself&n consequence,
you will please allow me to remain
where I am, for the truth is, I am not
in the humor of telling a lie this af-
ternoon."
"Good day, Mr.. Plurkett," and off
he rode a good deal faster than he
came. I quit telling lies from that
day to this, and relate this incident
and make this statement that people
may understand that I am entirely
truthful, especially on war stories, aud
as our trip down to the encampment
at Griffin may bring up many things
long forgotten, about soldiers and SOL
diering, [ hope that there may be none
to ever doubt what l say, whether
Brown swears to t1e same or no.
But 1 started out to tell about cross
ing the Blue Ridge in Virginia during
the war and to confne myself to such
things as the young people cannot
learn from books nor pictures, as his
tories cannot go into little details.
Crossing the Blue Ridge with an
army was mighty hard soldering. 1t
was hard on men and beast, privates
and officers.
Forward !"
And the soldier would pick up one
foot and make a step, when here would
come the line humping back. Then
they would stand first on one foot and
then on the other in doubt as to
whether they were to go forward or be
bumped back, when off everything
would start in a run to so suddenly
halt in a minute as to make the men
bump against one another like unto
car boxes when the engine stops.
This was hard marching, much harder
than to go right ahead, but it always
pertained in crossing the ridge. be-
cause, / suppose, artillery and wagons
had to be kept along with the men for
fear of being raided.
1t was a soft thing, in comparison
to being a common soldier, to be a
driver during the war, except when
crossing the ridge. Any soldier would
have rather went to battle than drive
a team over the ridge. The turns
were often so quick that the least mis-
take would whirl driver, team and all,
over a precipice, and it was a sight to
see them SO laundering, rolling and
bouncing down, down, down for hun
dreds of feet to the bottom.
I shall never forget two little red
mules that I took a great fancy to in
crossing the ridge when the army came
back from Sharpsburg. The drivers
knew the danger and TOOK every pre-
caution at hand. In going down they
would run a pole or a strong rail
through under the body and lock their
wheels, but it often happened that
teams went over anyhow.
The little reds that I have mention
ed were the leaders in a team Of six.
They were fat little fellows, and so
quick and willing to pull every time
the word was given. The big fellow
that was driving this team thought
more of these little reds than I did
they were his pets. He was a tough
looking old soldier, never having