The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1912-05-28

Jim in the cellar heard all this and
wondered how could those innocent
lips utter such falsehoods.
Meanwhile he was looking about him
for a better place of concealment.
There was an old brick oven in the
cellar, its top extending to within a
foot of the rafters Of the floor above
He climbed up on 1t and, pulling away
some loose bricks, found an entrance
to a chimney big enough for him to
crawl into. Once in it, being young
and strong, he worked his way up to
the top. Meanwhile the troopers had
searched the house and, not finding
him, had ridden about for awhile, not
getting too close to the Union line;
then had ridden back southwark. As
soon as Jim heard their retreating
footsteps he lifted his head above the
chimney top for reconnaissance, but
he quickly withdrew it, for a bullet
sung within an inch of his ear. This
admonished him that some sharpshoot-
er was watching the house, and he
scuttled down the chimney to make an
exit by the way he had come up. At
the cellar door stood the girl who had
hidden him. He took her In his arms.
and her head sank down upon his
breast.
If there had been any of that sense
Of self preservation in the boy-or the
girl, for that matter-such as comes
with age, hunted by cavalry, watched
by sharpshooters, liable to be caught
by an officer off his post, Jim would
have got out of the scrape as quickly as
possible. But young love Is stronger
than the fear of death-stronger even
than disgrace. Jim stood supporting
her. her heart futtering against his
own. and it was the happiest moment
of his life.
A distant sound Of the long roll com
ing down the slope from the Federal
lines was needed to awaken the young
soldier from his trance Then a gun
doomed. Snatching last kiss, the sol
der ran back to the cellar, took up
his rifle from a dark corner where he
had thrown it and sped out into the
yard. A skirmish line was coming
down the declivity. Jim ducked under
some bushes and, when the men pass
ed him, fell In, and. though he was not
with his own company, no one except
the pickets he had left a couple of
hours before was ever aware of his
foray between the lines
One Of those scrimmages that so Of
ten occur between armies In touch
with each other, but neither Of which
is ready for battle. was fought, result
ing in the advance Of the Union line
to the ridge on the south. That even
ing long after the fight was over the
girl Jim had won during so brief a
courtship saw from a window a Union
soldier crawling between the rails of
the fence. Running down and out, she
saw Jim, wounded.
Lying on the field, he had longed, in
stead of being taken to a hospital, to
be nursed by his new found love
When party with stretchers came
along he feigned to be dead. When
they had passed he drew himself slow
ly toward the house Of his adventure
In that house he remained for sew
eral weeks. When he left it he had
promised to come back when the war
would be over.
Our ideas today Of the men who par
ticipated In that frightful struggle are
derived from the graybeards in our
midst who wore the blue and the gray
We do not see them as they were then
nor remember that they are a mere
remnant Of those who marched away
IN the flush Of youth in 1861 to 1856
We are prone to forget the trenches
filed with their comrades, the head
stones bearing their names and the
word Unknown" carved on many a
marble Now and again when we pass
cemetery and notice little flag placed
there on Memorial day, its colors min
gled by many a rain, we are taken
back to those dark and bloody days.
In corner of a farm in Virginia is
a mound underneath which rests the
body Of Jim Bancroft. Again wound
ed in battle, he crawled back to his
love and was nursed by her till death
took him. He was laid in that corner.
and today an old woman with white
hair annually strews flowers on his
grave.