The herald and news. [volume] (Newberry S.C.) 1903-1937, 1909-09-03
Oh! Connie was furious at that i'd

Oh Connie was furious at that ID t
lot. !
She said it was her handkerchief,
anyhow, she dropped. And what bus
iness was it Of that poet, Or anybody
elses He said a lot Of such gibberish,
that poet did Something like this he
had to say about the boys rushing out
to see what was up, with me staying
to protect the girls:
'sThen with wild, defiant rebel yell,
Hot Spur sent those Yankees kiting,
And scared them plumb to-weD-
I lay five dollars down. etc.
"St Luke, he was peaceful man, he
hates all fuss and strife,
He gets behind the erinolines to save
his precious Efe.'
If he had told me to my face had
hidden behind hoop skirts, weu-l
don't know, but I believe would
have struck him dumb.
Well. it turned out to be all fiasco.
Whether the negroes had been fright
ened at an imaginary foe, or whether
some Of the ship crew had gone out
purposely to break up the dance, we
never knew. Or it might have been a
scouting party from Grants army.
But, my gracious! if they once heard
the racket going on in deserted old
Model, why it would have scared the
life out of them, and they never would
have pulled up short Of Old Point
Comfort.
We all got aboard, after much
good-natured taunting and badgering,
and the old buccaneer was about to
call out ''hoist away" Ducklegs,
with Connie on his arm, walked to the
raihng, and lifting his hat said:
'tHold on, let US do our most gra-
eious obeisanee to darling old Model
Farewell, old friend, thou great tow
ering giant, amid this wild desolation,
the sphinx Of the deserted James.
Standing alone, as q forgotten pyra-
mid, in this vast sweep Of lonahness
and desecration, thou art still bea-
con light to the river gods. We thank
thee for thy friendly roof, thy pro
teeting wings, in this our night OF
revelry and JOY. Thou hast been shorn
Of thy pristine glory by the relentless
and mailed hand of the invader, but
the day will come, as come it must,
when thy great wrongs and ours will
be righted and avenged by the sword
Of Justice. Thy sacred groves are dis
mantled, thy vineyards and cultured
wales have been trampled upon and
outraged by the aceursed tread OF the
oonseienceless foe. In thy glens and
dells, where the naiades played hide
and seek With the dryads, and the
little elfns sported in thy simmer
ing pools, all is now chaos. Where
thy lofty ceilings once echoed with
happy laughter Of lovely women, and
tby corridors rang with joyous shouts
Of childhood innocence, now is all
dark desolation. The owl boots from
thv deserted windows, and the leath-
\ er-wings fit around thy falling cor
nices of thy one-time magnlheence,
while the night bird alone sings in the
halls of thy deserted greatness. Moth
ing is now left thee, but the homage
Of the river gods, and with them We
salute thee
We all cheered old Ducklegs, to the
echo, while the bells Of the Kitty
Floyd tolled its approval. The old
bargeman slapped his hands and said,
ssThat was up to the spanker boom,
and if my old binnacles hold straight,
I'll carry you back safely to Rockets,
if nv top-gallant lies fiat on the water.
Hoist away
There was a gale blowing from the
sea, and we shot like u rocket up
stream. The old stearsman had great
difficulty in keeping the boats nose
with the wind, but the girls were all
in fearless and happy mood. Were
those nice girls? Why. man alive,
they were as fine as split silk. Do You
know that when the South left her
fifty years quarrel with the North to
the arbitrament of the sword and the
Young men rushed headlong to pick up
the gauge of battle, the women were
in the struggle heart and soul. And
when the women, young and old, of
this dear old Southland of ours, felt
the ground slipping from under us,
day hr day. with the young men still