The leader., 1902-10-01
RETROSPECTIVE.


DEAR LEADER:-I write this at Pros
pect church, near Augusta, where [ am
assisting Pastor w. K. Red and his
hospitable people in revival meeting.
Augusta is the point to which our
fathers rushed long before the war to
enter land under what was then known
as "the bit law" When quite lad 1
remember my father heard late one
afternoon that one of his neighbors
was going to start to Augusta early
next morning to enter some land that
he (father) had cleared and was Guilt
waiting. Father told my oldest brother
to hurry to the pasture and bring out
old Jim and feed him we'll for he was
going to start to Augusta as soon as
mother could cook bite of supper.
Jim was large gray horse, and I re-
member he chewed his corn rapidly, as
if conscious of the fact that he was
about to be beaten out of some land
that he wanted to plow and make more
corn on. Soon he stood at the gate,
saddled and bridled, tossing his head
and chewing his bit as if to say: "Hur-
ry up, master, or they'll beat you"
Father bade US all goodbye and moth
er cried as she stood in the door and
heard the sound of Jim's feet die
away in the distance as he turned the
end of the lane leading out from
fathers newly settled home.
At the end of four days we began to
look eagerly for fathers return. One
night, after mother had put us all in
bed, she sat in the door as if she was
listening for something, and she was.
In those days mothers were very rest
less in the absence of their husbands,
because of runaway niggers." 1t
was on rainy night and mother had
tucked the cover around our necks as
only mothers can. AS we children lay
in silence upon our trundle- bed, listen
ing at the raindrops spattering upon
the boards, mother broke the silence
by saying, II heard old Jim whicker."
Jim would always 'whicker" on ap
preaching home, and on this occasion
he seemed to say, "The victory is ours;
children, this is our home" The
children sprang out of bed and stood
by mothers side in the door; and as
we looked out, trying to penetrate the
darkness, we heard Jim shake himself
at the gate. Father soon stepped in at
the door with saddle bags on his arm,
while the water dripped from the skirts
of his blue blanket, which served
as poor mans overcoat in those days.
Removing his blanket, father laid his
arm around mothers neck and said,
"Old woman, I beat 'em! AS I was
coming out l met 'em going in."
Mother stirred up the fire on the
hearth and soon had father seated to a
smoking supper, which consisted of
fried eggs, sausage, souse, hot hoecake
and coffee, of which father partook
heartily as he related to us the details
of his trip to Augusta.
Something near mile out from
Augusta there stands rich lightwood
post which marks the place where
Copeland, the great land pirate was
legally hanged some sixty years ago.
This post formed part of the gallows
on which Copeland was hanged. It
serves as witness to faithful execu-
tion of the law in the years agone, and
as a warning that robbing and MUIR
dering don't pay. "The life of Cope
land" was the first book I ever read,
aside from my school books.
Before coming to this point closed
a meeting over in Jones county, near
where there are yet to be seen marks
of an old historic camp where many
deserters we're camped during the war.
1t has never been my pleasure to
mingle with more hospitable people
than are found in Jones and Perry
counties. In the rural districts there
is an illiterate ministry and people, but
they are very conscientious people
and have shown me no little kindness
am, under God, laying myself out in
their interest. Two weeks longer and
I will turn old Jake's head homeward
and spend few weeks with the home
folks. The sad intelligence reaches
me, in a letter from home, of the sud
den death Of my old Irish friend, Jerry
OLarry. "Uncle" Jerry was very
poor man, but he was my friend and
will miss him.
God bless Bogue Chitto, Lincoln
county and everybody.
J. A. SCARBOROUGH.