Barre evening telegram. (Barre, Vt.) 1898-19??, 1899-10-26
A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR.
How a Loyal Union Woman Helped
Deserter to Escape
Capture.

Saturday evenings we have story
telling times at our house - that 49,
when the grown up people don't go out
somewhere or company doesn't come in
and everybody feels like it. There is an
element of uncertainty about it all that
makes us children feel particularly de-
lighted when we really find ourselves
cozily settled down before the fire
listening to story. Sometimes COM
pany doesn't interrupt. For instance,
when Aunt Mary came In the other
night she noticed that the warmth of
our greeting was tempered and at once
OWNED the cause.
"Oh, you request" said she. would
you rather have story than see your
aunt? Very well, then, l won't open
this bag of chestnuts tonight, but will
try to find some children who love me
better than stories"
Aunt Mary always was tease, and
we had bad quarter OF an hour before
she consented to be Modified and passed
the chestnuts around. Tom had gone
to fetch the corn pepper, and we were
to roast them while we talked.
"For," said Aunt Mary, with slight
return to her injured air, 81 mean to
prove to you that l can tell a story as
we'll as anybody"
Of course we knew that, having
listened to many of them, but we never
replied to Aunt Mary when she felt
like teasing if we could possibly helpit.
We had learned wisdom by sad expert
ence.
"When | was young lady," she be-
gan, 81 was very much interested in the
civil war. wanted to 60 and take part.
[ think that was the first and only time
| ever wished that was man. even
went so far as to do my best to get taken
as nurse, directly against my parents
wishes, but | was so young that they
wouldn't have me. In vain | applied
to all the agencies whose address could
hear of, and wrote letters to the heads
of the various hospitals. was TOO
much of puritan to lie, and the fatal
fact of my being only 16 annulied all
my pleadings. Little did think, in the
ardor of my patriotism, that | would
ever defend deserter; but did"
whats a deserter?" asked little
Mary, nestled close against the aunt for
whom she had been named.
"a man who joined the army and
promised to be soldier and fight well
for his country, and who then gets
afraid or homesick or tired or some
thing and breaks his promise and runs
away. A man who did this was always
despised by the true and brave soldiers,
and when he was caught he was very
teverely punished. despscd the very
name of one myself, and knew that if
| was a man nothing could ever make
me desert the army | had joined ex-
cept death or victory" Aunt Mary's
eyes flashed and we boys strais htened
up in our seats and were glad we be-
longed to her.
Nevertheless, when the time came, ]
aid help a deselter against the regular
army men, ~ yam shall hear was on
the train. going 10 visit a married sister
who lived several hundred miles away,
when our train was boarded by a band
of soldiers who were out hunting for
deserters Instantly a man who had
been sitting opposite me with his wife.
q pale. timid-looking woman. dropped
on the floor and hid under my seat. 1t
was in the days of hoop skirts, and my
dress was In the height of style and very
full. He could not have chosen more
complete h,slue lace than behind my
abundant draperies. or course. every
one ON the car knew at once that he
must be a deserter, but everyone felt,
az l did, that it would be quite impos-
sible to give him up to those soldiers.
"For they were mostly drunk. They
were Just small squad, separated from
the main body of the army and detailed
On special duty, with an officer in charge
who neither knew how to set an exam
pie of sobriety nor how to enforce =
upon others. He was, perhaps, little
drunken than any of his men. My
heart burned within me to think that
LOYALTY and bravery should be upheld by
such as these. The trembling man be-
| hind my skirts was ct least sober. and'