The Fairmont West Virginian. (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1904-1914, 1906-10-08
EBIHO STRUCK
BILLY ATTERSON
QUESTION OF MORE MOMENT
THAN THE LADY OF THE
TIGER is AT LAST AN
SEVERED.
rBy sIlas E. snyder.l

the mystery about 1t all is the lueh'
tity Of the striker. The whole world
has been agog abcrt this mysterious
gentleman with the stsons arm who
laid Billy Patterson low. but up to the
present writing he has remained as
much an unsolved problem rs the
choice Of the princess in "The Lady
OF the Tiger"
Billy was supposed to have been
originally native of Kentucky, but
other States have claimed him and
once all English papers made him a
native of Nottingham. The Chinese
have not yet claimed Billy, however,
and now It is too late, for the truth
about him is to be told here and now.
Billy Patterson was virginian; he
may have been an F. F. v, but we
haven't had time to look into his fam
lily history very closely. When the
war between the States broke out Bill
Ily shouldered a musket and STARTED
to the front, but in some way he got
side.tracked into the artillery and
along about 1862 found himself serv'
ing the guns behind the earthworks
with which the Confederates had for
tilted sewells Point, the very ground
in fact upon which the jamestown Ex'
position is now building,
These batteries dominated the wat
ers Of Hampton Roads and performed
an important part in the defense of
Norfolk until after the destruction Of
the Merrimac when they were aban'
Toned.
Billy Patterson stood one day at his
gun patiently waiting to hear some
body make a noise like Yankee war
ship 1t was foggy and Billy wanted
10 show his skill in gunnery by Dor
ing a round hole in the circumam.
brent cloud scenery with Federal
gunboat at the end of the vista. While
he waited he unused on the delights
IF the long toddy, now for many
moons missed from his daily regimen
AS he mused thus sadly a hail came
over the water and through the fog:
Hi there, JENNY"
Hi there! Who goes there?"
Its me. Don't shoot for Gods
sake. I'm all alone. Got any tobae'
coz"
"Coure. Whom hell"
"All right; I've got jug Of whiskey
here. III trade"
Sure; come on In"
Billy hurried down to the beach
and in half a minute a boat came
ashore with lone Yankee and a
large iemi.john aboard.
Hello, Yank."
Hello, Reb."
Got the tobacco?
Got the whiskey?"
Here's the frewater; two gallons
of it"
wait over there by that oak tree"
said Billy Patterson, probably indicat'
ing the Powhatan Oak which still
stands on the exposition grounds.
Billy went into the works and pro-
curing a big rolltof tobacco, reioined
his friend at the oak tree. The Yam
kee filed his pipe on the spot and
began to pull with great gusts, while
Billy. .disdaining cup. gourd or glass
drank deeply from the flagon.
The fog hung around all that day
like the ghost Of a water goddess in
her winding sheet of mist, the guns
we're silent, and no Yankee boats ap
preached; but what kept Billy Patter'
son from his post?
The truth might as well be told first
as last. When the magnificent aurora
of dawn again Illuminated the oriental
horizon the inanlmate form of Billy
Patterson was found reucmbent on
the sod under the Powhatan oak.
Was Billy dead?
No.
Had Billy been hit?
He had.
Was he ont?
He was out.
Who hit him; the yank?
No.
Then who did?
Nobody.
He was hit, you say?
Yes.
Well?
Well, it was simply a case of tit
for tat. Billy hit the lagoon little
too hard and the tlagon hit him back
MY WIFE.
Robert Louis Stevenson.
Tusty, dusky, vivid, true,
With eyes of gold and bramble dew,
Steel true and blade straight,
Tho qraot Artificer.