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Show Budd, "that yo couldn't firing money enough in a two-horse wagon to buy one of them. I'm not a thief; I'm not trying to make money by stealing. I took those spoons as plunder of war, and I'm going to keep 'em. You can't buy 'em and you can't tease 'em away. No use to try. And, if you want to save your spoons that you've got now down there, don't you ever declare war against the North again. These spoons staying up here in Maine will be a jog to your memory." And, in spite of all their arguments and protests, the young men were obliged to trudge away without the spoons that belonged to their grandfather. Auburn (Me.) correspondence New York Tribune. CAMPFIRE SKETCHES. SOME SHORT STORIES FOR THE VETERANS. A Veteran Who Served Under Gen. Ben Butler Exonerate the Famous "Warrior "War-rior of the C'liarue or Stealing Spoons Spoon Story's Sew Phase. JOHN MORGAN'S RAID. On Independence Day John Morgan made his raid, With five thousand rebels, he did not seem afraid; He marched into Lebanon with his guerrilla band. Laying waste and robbing this once happy laud. Chorus. Hurrah, hurrah for Northern rights, Hurrah, hurrah for the Union, Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! Colonel Hanson did receive him with four hundred Yankees brave, Like patriots of old they fought their home and friends to save; Morgan asked him to surrender, but Hanson did reply, "Cheer, boys, cheer, we will fight him till we die!" A CIVIL WAR HOUSE RACE. War is, not all tragedy. Our "boys" on both sides In the civil war found plenty of time between battles to amuse themselves with a variety of sports. In Kentucky there was some sort of horse race every time an army paused to take a long breath. On one occasion Lieutenant Saunders of the th Kentucky matched hia "Blue Grass" thoroughbred against a wiry little mustang owned by Captain Garland of the th Texas for $500 a side. Saunders was to ride his own horse, but the captain, being a large man, had to find a jockey for his mustang, mus-tang, and in looking among the troops chose a young private in Saunders' own regiment, a Louisville boy of the name of John Eston Keller, a cousin of the famous author John Eston. Cooke, who wrote "Surrey of Eagle's Nest," "Moh'in," "Hammer and Rapier," Ra-pier," etc. Keller weighed about 95 pounds, and in a joking spirit consented consent-ed to take the mount. The race was called on the following day at 3 o'clock. Saunders was promptly at the post with his splendid brown mare, but no rider appeared for the Texan's mustang. "I got a chap to promise t ride last night," said Captain Garland Gar-land to the judges, "but he hasn't turned up. I don't remember his name and don't know where to find him." Keller advanced from the crowd saying: "I'm the person you are talking of, I reckon, but I thought the whole thing was a joke. Do you mean that you really want me to ride that mustang against Lieutenant Saunders' Saun-ders' mare?" "Of course I do," returned re-turned the captain. "I mean business. It's a bona fide match and If I don't run I pay forfeit. Get up!" "Any tricks?" "No. Perfectly sensible little horse and as honest as you are yourself. your-self. Do all you ask of him." When the signal was given the mare led off, with the mustang at her withers. It was a half-mile track somewhere in the southern part of the state, and -the race being a mile, the horses had to go around twice. Soldiers thronged the course, leaving only a narrow lano for the contestants Passing the judges on the first lap, the mustang was lying easily alongside the mare, not having lost an inch. Captain Garland Gar-land shouted to Keller: "Go at him with your whip! He'll stand punishment punish-ment all the way home! Let him have it!" Mr. Keller, telling of the race the other day, said, "I knew he was a good little horse, with the determination de-termination and grit of a bulldog, so I lit into him. I flogged him every step of the way home. In vain the mare tried to shake him off. Saunders whipped and spurred, rode with head, hands, arms and knees. My mount gradually crept up, and when he finished fin-ished was just a short neck In front. ' I reckon I was the most surprised man in the regiment, and in a few minutes the saddest, too. By winning that race I had broke ' every man in the command. The poor boys had bet their three months' pay on the mare, and all their tobacco, sugar, etc., blankets, pocket knives and nearly near-ly everything else that a soldier has about him. For awhile I was mighty unpopular. Captain Garland wanted to divide his winnings with me, hut I refused to take a cent, r told him I didn't want his money, that I had beaten my own boys out of. But I was sorry afterward I did not take It and give it back to the boys. A good many thousand dollars changed hands." New York Press. They fought two hours or more; no as- ' sistance came to hand; The little band of Union boys could no longer stand; Although a victory they did gain and Morgan badly beat, They surrendered to five thousand rebs, which was no defeat. He marched on to Hoosier, expecting friends to find, But he found out too late at last; his friends he had left behind; Old Hoosier it was Union, no sympathizers sympa-thizers there, The Stars and Stripes, the good old flag, was floating far and near. Then he turned his course to the old Ohio State, Little did old John think what would be his fate; But poor old John was caught at last, with every rebel man. They all belonged to Government, to good old Uncle Sam. Now cheer, boys, cheer, we will raise the joyous shout, For General Morgan and Colonel Luke have both just gone out. Then another rousing for Shackleford we all will give; We will raise on high the Stars and Stripes and praise it while we live. ) (This song was written by N. A. Bloor in 1863 and was sung to the tune of "The Bonny Blue Flag.") A BEN BCTLER VETERAN, John Budd, old and quaint, has for years been the toll-gatherer at the end of the Wiscasset bridge, the longest In the State of Maine. A few days ago Budd was sitting in the sun at the door of his little booth, smoking his pipe. Twe young men, evidently city boys on a pedestrian tour, came along across the bridge and stopped to pay their toll. They eased their knapsacks knap-sacks off their shoulders, and sat down on a bench at the side of the booth for a moment's rest. Budd naturally asked them whence they had come and whither they were going. "Our home Is in New Orleans," said the older of the young men. "We are up here in Maine for the summer." "i stopped in New Orleans at one time," said Budd. "When was that?" "When I was with General Butler." "Well, you can't be very proud of that." "And why not, you young snippet?" demanded Budd, with just as much asperity. "Because Butler was an insulter of women, a tyrant, and an old thief that's what he was and the boys of New Orleans who never saw him hate him just as much as the men and the women who suffered from his orders. And, besides, he stola all the spoons out of my grandfather's hotel?" "He did, eh " snapped Budd. "What was the name of your grandfather's hotel?" "The St. Charles." "You just wait a moment. young man." Budd went upstairs to his living room and brought down a heavy canvas bag. He opened it and took out a handful of spoons. On the handle was engraved "St. Charles." "What do those look like?" demanded Budd. "Why, those are some of the spoons from my grandfather's hotel," gasped the young man. "Where did you come on those?" "I stole 'em," said Budd placidly; "and I know who stole the rest of 'em, and we all did It at the risk of our lives, for, if General Gen-eral Butler had known it he would have had us strung up. Now, you take back what you said about him. Take It back or I will dump you both over the rail there." Daunted by the glare in the eyes of the old man, the boys apologized for their hasty words. Then the older said: "Sir, my father will pay any price for those old spoons. I don't know just how much money I have with me. but I will give it to you, every cent, if you will give me those memorials of mv grandfather. They can b worth nothing mort to you now." "Let me tell you, replied Department Portrait Galleries. The United States navy department portrait gallery is not nearly so complete com-plete as that of the war department, not more than 50 per cent of the ex-secretaries ex-secretaries of the navy being represented. repre-sented. Of the secretaries of the navy the following are missing from the collection: George Cabot, Robert Smith. William Jones, Smith Thompson, Thomp-son, Samuel L. Southard, John Branch, Mahlon Dickerson,. James R. Paulding, Pauld-ing, George E. Badger, Thomas W Gilmer, Gil-mer, Lewis Warrington. William B Preston, William A. Graham, John P Kennedy, Alexander Ramsey, Nathan ' " Goff, jr., and William C. Whitney ! That of John Branch, 1829, has only recently been obtained and. It will be observed, the portraits of three of the recent secretaries are lacking Ramsey, Ram-sey, who was an acting secretary for a few days in 1880; Goff, who succeeded succeed-ed him in 1881, and Whitney. It is better to keep our friendshina than to see the world. |
