The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-01-07
A Cup of conee.

Cup of Coffee.
 Copied from The News and Courier, Our Women in War" Edition. So many and varied were the in- stances of patriotism and patient en- durance that scarcely matron or maid was but an actor. But ''as fades OCT the moor a brief November day. so fades from memory the deeds of those dark, bloody days. It is well that time has softened these memories and ban fshed the bitterness that so filled them. For four years our hands were busy with any and every expedient or device for the comfort of camp aud home, our hearts, though torn with anxiety and sorrow. were filled with hope of the
 ultimate success of our cause. We
 gave our all for 1t. cheerfully, proudly,
 and when defeat came, there was not
 in us any feeling of dishonor.
 I do not specify any particular act of patriotism or heroism, for the four years of war were but one continued act for 'Our Women in the War" To us who survive the trials and priva- tions of that time our efforts to supply substitutes for what we had not con- sidefed luxuries but as matter of course for every day use, are some times amusing, as, for instance, coffee. The genuine article had become almost
 unknown, luxury indeed. Among the various substitutes one was the sweet potato, happily then one of the abund- ant products of Mother Earth. To pre- pare 1t we pared the potatoes, cut into | small pieces. dried and parched. adding little butter before taking from the
 oven and grinding. This recipe was l given me by Mrs. John s. Preston. 1 confess my doubts as to excellency and | deceptive properties, for real coffee. | The test proved most satisfactory. Our success in any new line was generally
 made known to our friends. On one
 occasion an old friend was at my home when mentioned to him how very pal I atable and deceptive was this potato coffee. With contempt for the substi- | tute, he said, 'I would detect piece 1 of potato as big as my finger nail. !" Having some real old Java, had two
 cups prepared and handed to him, say- 1 ing, "One is all Java, the other po- l tato." He tried both and boldly said, 'I told you. you could not deceive my | taste." 'Oh, we'll said, triumphant l Iy, you are deceived, for that is the potato coffee. Like the generous man he was, he laughed and said: You did l get me, for that potato coffee is as fine 1 as I would wish to drink"
 l This potato coffee was the cause of
 a sad disaster to me.
 l My husband on a visit to me from Virginia, sald, Il nave brought you the poor mans present to his wife, a 1 frock." A new frock, what treas-
 ure. Old ones had been ripped. turned, made over, until all new was gone. The frock was made and filled with admi- \ ration of it, of myself. and pride for 1 the gift of my husband, donned 1t, and salIied out to show my neighbor.
 To surprise her with the excellence l of potato coffee, I filled a prized cup | with it, enriched with cream and start ed with it. Mine was the inilkmaid's s | fate. As I opened my neighbours gate | the wind slammed it back, dashing the cup and contents all down the front of my beautiful new dressl Was there
 heroism in bearing patiently this dis appointment and ruin of my treasure? Persimmon seed was also a | substitute for coffee when it
 was parched and ground Those days of trial and anguish have long passed away. With some of us. our be- loved patriots remained and often told us of suffarings and privations endured, softened by woman's love and tender | thought.
 l Most of them are gone, and it is best we should bury with them all remain ing harsh memories. M. O.. A. s. C.