The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-08

between the North and South in that famous battle.
 In the audience were men who had not seen real war, and beautiful wo- men, all dressed in holiday array, ready to enjoy the thrills that they expected the battle to furnish. But The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley." The pickets ad- slowly. The pickets came running back with the news that the "enemy'' was advancing. Thereupon, the South line began to fire. This was re- sponded to by the upper, or North, line of soldiers, and as the two ad- vanced into closer quarters, the din of musketry became deafening. Some of the onlookoers began to scramble away and to run for home.
 But the grand tableau of all was the spectacle of big Bill Allen. hairy chested, stripped to the waist and cov- cred with gunpowder and grass, rush ing back through the woods of the grove waving gun and a pistol and shouting: "The enemy is coming: we are driven backi All is lost!' This frightfu1-looking cave man and the roar of musket-y were more than the female portion of the audience could bear. Some tainted, others ran into the Hough and Johnson barns, and few jumped into Cooks pond.
 After the retreat, the contending armies were mustered into one grand 6and of brave men by 'Lije" Dun ming, who had been to war and un- derstood military tactics. Then the valiant soldiers marched back to Bridgeport, most of them accom- panied by lovely women who left the sidewalks to walk in the dust of their conquering heroes.
 It was a great day and enjoyed by pid's Grove" is occupied by Charlie Hough's residence. In his cellar might be found skeletons of the dead heroes. Who knows?
 Do you remember the Turp entdne works built at Black Rock? This whole venture savors very much of the investments that are f1oated now adays. A few promoters bought some land near the harbor in Black Rock. A huge brick chimney began to afp- pear upon the horizon so people 1iv- some brick buildings began to take being and about then there were whispers that the new Turpentine works were going up in Black Rock and that turpentine was to flow like water just as soon as all the machin- cry and furnaces were installed. The process, as explained by the suave and gentlemanly promoters, was to in clude bringing from the Sunny South logs of pine, the kind that pitch, tar and turpentine are taken from, and that form one of the staple products of the South. After the Civil War the price of turpentine, rosin, and so forth, was almost prohibitive. Re- construction of the South was under way and the resumption of trade with the North had not yet been accom- pliShed. This was the most feasible argument of the prom oters of this promising industry It assured the man investors big returns on their in vestment.
 The pine logs, according to their argument, were to be brought from Southern ports in sailing vessels. and c1o c-1u r1a ho+ vessel on the return trips. could un- load the manufactured turpentine in New York and other ports along the coast, The logs were to be placed in huge retorts and cooked and roasted until all the pitch. tar and turpentine could run off into three receptacles. one for each product. after which would come the barreling for mar ket.
 It was simple process and so easy to understand. and the profits were so little difficulty in dfsposing of large Clocks of stock. The funny part 0f it all was that some of Bridgeports sl1rewdest and wisest business men.
 well as some banks, enjoyed for a brief period the rather doubtful priv leee of holding Turpentine stock
 By the time tho stock was all dis nosed of what turpentine there was in the furnace retorts got afire and the entire plant was consumed, excepts the tall brick chimney which stood for more than twenty years. a silent monument to pitch, tar and turpen- inc!
 The. following poem isn't especially appropriate but it won't do any harm to quote it: cone of our citizens is dead,
 The pride and bulwark of our
 town, And OCT his calmly sleeping head
 We rear a shaft to hold him
 down. Oh what an empty dream is pride l
 And what hollow thing is famei | Our great man laid him down and
 died
 And Bridgeport seems about the
 samei'
 TO, SPEAK AT B. P. S.