Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1897-03-04
THE PICKETS.
By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS.

Sill, Yank!"
shut up." replied Alden, wriggling
to the edge Of the rifle pit.
Conner also crawled little higher,
and squiutcI through the chinks OF the
pine logs.
Hey, Johnny" he called across the
river, care YOU that clay-eatin' Cracker
with green lamps on your pilot?'
80 Yauli. Arc yew the U. S. mewl
with a c. S. \. brand on yewr head
STALE"
Go to blazes!" replied Connor, sui
lenly.
j iecring laugh answered him from
across the river.
He had you there, Connor," observed
Alden, with faint interest.
Conner took of his blue cap and en-
amined the bullet hole in the crown.
&C. S. \. brand on my headstall, ch!"
lie repeated savagely, twirling the cap
between his dirty fingers.
You called him q clay-eating Crack
err" observed AldenY and you referred
TO his spectacles as green lanterns on
his pilot
III show him whose hcadstall Is
branded" nuttered Conner, showing his
smoky rifle through the log crack.
Alden slid down to the bottom Of the
shallow pit and watched Conner opa-
thet:cally. lie gaspcd once or twice,
threw open his jacket at the throata and
stuffed o filthy handkerchief into The
crown of his cap, arranging the ends
us a shelter for his neck.
Conner lay silent, his right eye fast
crei upon the rife sight, his dusty army
shoes crossed behind him. One yellow
sock had slipped down over the worm
shoe heel and laid bare dust-begrimcd
ankle bone.
Suddenly Connor's rife cracked; the
echoes ratified and clattered away
through the woods; a thin cloud OF pun
gent yapor slowly drifted straight up
ward, Shedding into 1ilmy strc&mccS
AMONG the branches overhead.
Get hin?' asked Alden after q
silence.
'.Nopc.' replied Connor. Then nc adj
dressed himself to his late target across
the river.
Hello, JOHNNY"
I'll, YanE."
"uow close?"
Hey? ?"
"IIow close"
What, sonny?"
"My shot, you fool!"
why, sonny" called back the con-
fedel-ate, III affected surprise, "was yew
a-shootin' at me?'
Bang. went Connor's rifle again. 4
derisiye cat-ca.l answered him, and he
turned furiously to Alden.
"Oh, let up" said the young fellow.
Its too hot for that!'
Conner was speech!ess with rage, and
he hastily jammod another cartridge
into his long, hot rifle; but Alden
goused himself, brushed away q per-
sistent fly, and crept up to the edge OF
the pit again.
Hello, Johnny!" he shouted.
"Tlas you, sonny?" replied the con-
3ejerate.
YES; say, Johnny, shall we call it
square until four o'clock?"
What time is it?" replied the eau
tious confcderata;. "all our expensive
sold watches is bcin' repaired at Chick
nmauga."
At this taunt Conner showed his
teeth; but Alden laid one hand on his
arm ard sang out: Its two o'clock,
Richmond time; Sherman has just tele-
graphed us from your state house"
wall, IL that case this crool war is
over" replied the confederate sharp
shooter; wen be easy on old Sher-
man"
See here!" cried Alden; sis it truce
untl four o'clock"
III rirAt! Your word, Yank!"
you have it."
"Done!" said the confederate, coolly
rising to his feet and strolling down t1
the river bank, both hands in his peck
cts.
Alden and Conner crawled out Of theil
ill-smelling dust vallow, leaving then
rifles behind them.
"Vhew! It's hot, Johnny" saic
Alden, pleasantly. lie pulled out
stained pipe, blew into the stem, pol
ished the bowl with his sleeve, anc
sucked wistfully at the end. Then h'
went and sat down beside Connor, wht
Tad improyiscd fishing pole from his
ramrod, bit OF string and rusty hook
The confederate rifeman also sa
down on his side Of the stream, pufli ns
Iuxuriously at a fragrant corncob pipe
Alden watched him askance, sucking
the stem Of his own empty pipe. Attel
minute OF two Conner dug up worn
from the roots Of a beech tree with hi:
bav9net, fixed it to the hook, flung TIT
line into the muddy current, and squat
ted gravcly on his launches, chewing
leaf stem.
Presently the confederate soldiei
raised his head and looked across
Nl %%5as. yevr name, sonny2" h.
asked.
Alden" replied the young fellow
Mines Craig" Observed the confed
crate. Whats ycwr regiment"
Two hundred and SiXtieth New
York; what's yours, MIR. Craig?"
'Ninety-third Maryland, Mister Al
den"
"Quit that throwing sticks in thu
water!" growled Connor. low do vol
s'pose I'm goin' to catch anythin'%
Alden tossed his stick back into thu
brush heap and laughed.
'How's your tobacco, Craig" n
called out.
"Bunyl How's yewr coffee N tack
Alden?"
.First-rate!" replied the youth.
After a silence he said: rs it go?'
exou bet" said Craig fRmbl!uG II