The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1898-08-27
Grandfather'S
...Courtship...

$50 you youngsters want war story,
sighed Grandpa Sawyer, glanctng fondly
over the merry group of children and
grandchildren that had assembled to cele-
brate his sixteth birthday; and wonder
ing what he could possibly say on this
august occasion that had not been repeated
at least score of times.
"You might tell them about the time
you tainted dead away" suggested grand
ma, with her tender, pensive smile, as she
bent caressingly over his latest namesake
fast asleep in her arms.
Yielding to the clauorous entreaties of
more than dozen young voices, the vet
eran slowly proceeded: "You see, | was
Just out of Andersonville and a little
shaky even on an ordinary occasion, and
this was most extraordinary occasion, be-
ing the day your grandma graduated at
Holyoke.
az first enlisted for three MONTHS full
Of fight and sure of victory, and | looked
so fine and tall in my blue uniform,
thought I'd go and say goodby to DR.. Mil
ler's daughter. was only a common
farmer, and she had another beau, stu
dent Of Amherst, but remembered once
at party, when she had to choose a part
ner she selected me instead of jim; so
thought I'd go and tell her | was off for
Dixie in the morning. | thought may be
she'd cry little as my mother did, Or say
something fine about my laying down my
precious life for the dear old flag; but she
didn't say much, and | didn't stay long,
for Jim was there.
"Martha went with me out to the gate
l reached out my big, sunburned hand
and she took it in both Of her own and
held it quite bit, and she said 'Bennie
Pm sorry you're going to the war; you're
too young man, and too good man to
stand up and be shot at Then Jim ap-
peared on the scene, and / went away
half cursing my honest hand for being so
big and so brown, while Jim's was as
white as lily with great flashing dia-
mond on the smallest of his slender ing-
ers.
Talk about standing up as target for
bullets; that's nothing nothing at all
compared with lying down to starve in a
foul prison. As the days passed into
weeks and the weeks so long, into months
so much longer, that lost all count, how
many and many time | looked at my
white, bony hands and wished they were
as big and as tanned as they used to be,
and when would have prayed for an end
ing of my misery, how well | remembered
that Martha had said | was too young to
die, and the way she had held my hand
still thrilled me, and kept me alive out of
oldCiant Despair, and said over and over
to myself thousand times, with grim de-
termination, what DR.. Miller had so often
repeated. while there is life there is
hope, and at last was exchanged and
discharged. oh, how happy ! was to be
set free | did not regain my freedom
with a sigh like the poor prisoners of
Cniilon, but with a great Joy that buoyed
me up for the long, weary journey home,
and enabled me to assist others who were
still weaker.
when at last the stage set me down at
the familiar village postotlice l was so
weary and wasted no one seemed to recog-
ME me, but looked at me in a plying
way l cnuld not understand, and 50 | did
not speak to any one, but staggered down
the hill to the old farmhouse, trying in
vain to scent the supper or the Glove pinks
did not know that my precious mother
bad been dead almost year, but when |
reached the gate felt the change. 1t