The National tribune., 1901-07-04

Generals may have erred, but the men on
the firing lines were all right.
Of course, history should be true; no at
tempt should be made to pervert it. As
suredly, l did not know how many Fed
erals were at and near Blue Springs.
Unthoughtedly, carelessiy, l intimated
there were lots of 'em"-basing my be-
lief on my own feelings" and the state
rent of Capt. Allen, of the 7th Ohio Cav,
who, by the way, seems abundantly abe
to take care of himself-even when it is
@ long time between drinks.
At Blue Springs, as on other occasions,
] wanted to get away, moral courage, not
physical, prompting me to stay and ex-
claim, Lay on, Macduff, and damned be
be who first shall cry enough, or words
TO that effect. In plain United States"
more than enough.
THE OLD KENTUCKY HOMIE
Approaching the closing scene at Ap-
pomattox, our army melting away as the
mists before the morning sun, knowing
that the end is near, l begin to dreamily
long for the old Kentucky home far away
on the shore of La belle Riviere where
sroweth the mint in season and wherein
standeth the sideboard embellished by
smber-colored glassware-containing the
famous Kentucky elixir. 1t has been "a
long time between" and having that tired
feeling and a stomach unsatisfed-like,
am looking toward the bottom OF the COB
let, heartily indorsing the Kentucky girls
toast:
Here's to old Kentucky whisky,
So amber and so clear;
Not as sweet as woman's lips,
But a -- sight more sincere"
And this reminds me OF the Kentucky
Colonel and his magnifying elixir.
About a mile from the Kentucky River,
not far from where il joins the Ohio,
10 quaint old town, clean and substan-
tial. The citizens point with pride to
several pretentious stores, bank, three
large churches-Methodist, Christian, and
Baptist - attractive and commodiOus
homes, flowers and singing birds, stately
shade trees, and the latch strings hang
Ing outside the portals. The Arcadian
charms and hospitality of this ancient
Kentucky town are SO alluring to the Ian
quid tourist that once within the welcom-
Ing, wide open gates, he is in no hurry to
get away. Probably the only deterrent
from his enjoyment Of perennial bliss, If
he has been accustomed to matitudinal
potations of Kentucky elixir, lies in the
fact thai there is not always "a hot time
In the old town." it having periodical
spasms of local option" unusual for
hthlhths 5ULlSNIultS wet ana
sometimes dry. However, where there Is
will there is way.
Col. "kaintuck" having given the
necessary and knowing wink the thirsty
tourist has only to catch on and exercise
an option" that readily procures the
elixir by the usual old reliable under
ground route.
The tourist, seeking to learn local his
tory, ancient, medieval and modern, will
invariably hear the story of the evolution
Of calf into a whole drove OF cattle, The
legend was told to me by Baptist minis
ter, who especially enjoys it because of
the fact that young preacher of the
same faith and order was one of the
alleged dramatis personae.
A certain Colonel. witty and genial, a
lawyer and politician, lived in the little
town some years ago, how many it is not
necessary here to mention, and one of his
boon companions was John -, then a
fun-loving young school teacher. Both
young men were generous imbibers of
kentucky's potent elixir. or course the
jolly young teacher had not at that time
been ''called" to preach the gospel.
The Colonel had sold small calf to a
certain Squire, living some miles out In
the country. and on n Saturday morning,
bright and early, he arose, took a few
potations Of Bourbon liquor, and with n
long rope successfully lassoed the calf and
triumphantly started to deliver the diminu-
tive animal to the consignec. He had not
proceeded far when he met John" the
embryonic preacher, who merrily greeted
him ms follows:
Hello, Colonel; good morning! Where
are you going with that calfT'
Calf -, John, can't you see? This
is whole drove of cattle"
Pshaw! Colonel, 1 don't see anything
bot one little calf"
'You don'tl 1 tell you this is whole