The Robesonian. [volume] (Lumberton, N.C.) 1870-current, 1909-01-11
WITH AUNT BECKY.
"reminiscences Of Olden Days on
the Farm-A Family of True
Patriots News Items.
Of The Robesonian,

Patriots-News Items.
Correspondence of The Robesonian.
We are having delightful
weather these days, almost sum-
mer time, and the farmers are
getting busy preparing for an
other crop. Stalk-cutters and
two-horse plows are much in
evidence, and l hear the music
of the farm bells at the noon
tide hour. What changes have
occurred during the past forty
years! l often wonder now-a-
days, seeing the modern labor
saving marchinery of various
kinds at work, how the old-time
farmers managed to get on with
their crude homemade imple-
ments and want of conveniences.
Even the bells carry me back to
old plantation days and the old
dinner horn, which in case of
my fathers absence | was called
upon to blow when dinner time
came, as it so happened l was
the only one of womankind on
the place who had acquired that
accomplishment and, being a
little girl, was very proud of it.
On an adjoining farm a large
conch shell was used instead of |
a horn, and it's clear notes were
strong and penetrating.
The owner of this unique mus
ical instrument was a dear little
Scotch lady, an aged widow, who
in the course of the years became
companionless. Some of her
children had gone to the bridal
and some to the tomb, her slaves
had been freed, and she was
left very lonely, but so attached
to her home that she refused the
persistent efforts of her married
children to move with them. She
was great church-goer, a strong
Presbyterian, and, rain or shine,
was always in her accustomed
place. Finally she grew SO aged
and feeble that she was untitled
to go alone and drive her gentle
old horse Jim, and she would
stop at our home for me to go
. with her and | would be very
happy to get to drive. So for
; some time we logged back and
. forth to church, and the dear
old lady never failed at the close
of the journey to lay her palsied
hand upon my head and in her
, quaint Scotch brogue say, "Oh,
bless you! It's yourself that is
the good smart child" But by
and by the time came when my
sweet old lady gently faded
away from earth, radiantly hap
py to enter "the land of the
leal'; and my heart was very
sore for the loss of one whom I
, dearly loved and who was mourn
ed by the whole community.
She was lovingly known as
Granny Morrison" and was the
, grandmother of the late lament
: ed John H. Morrison, of your
town, who was a worthy des-
cendant Of noble Scottish ances-
try. This was also a family of
. true patriots, and during our civil
: war seven grandsons of the widow
= Morrison marched away in de-
: Tense of their country-seven as
brave and gallant souls as ever
' breathed, the pride and chivalry
of our country, stalwart and
r handsome as they were brave,
: and three of the seven fell in
e battle on the bloody plains OF
e Virginia.
t l see there is a movement on
foot in the Pension Bureau al
Washington to continue the pen.
t sions of civil war veterans (U.
d S. up to the year 1850; and am
: wondering if the patriarchal age
! has returned, with the length OF
y days which existed in Methusa.
e leh's time. l cannot we'll curl
my slumbering Southern indig
nation at the injustice of South
= ern money going to pension Tn
q ion soldiers, when | see withir
e three miles of my home three
e poor old worn-out Confederat.
|. veterans who are sorely IN neet
= of aid.
!, have no local news of inter
est to communicate.
is Prof. Reynolds and Miss Mitch
N ell have resumed their school du
10 ties at Oak Grove, after a suspen
is sion of two weeks for the holi
At days, which they spent at thei
respective homes.
Mrs. Colin Edens, of Re-
r, Springs, accompanied by her tw
"a grandchildren, Harry and Kath
L arine Mclean, spent some day
q last week among relatives in tn
n Fork.
~ ~ enjoyed the late interestin
y letter from your Dillon CORES
w pondent and hope he will writ
i. u more frequently.
10 | am missing the entertainin
r. and breezy letters of our esteem
as ed Alabama friend, Rev. A.
H. Davis, which always carry L
no back in memory to "Auld Ian
Syne' and the blithesome days c