~ 1

COLLECTION

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 
 

THE
HAYDOCKS' TESTIMONY

 

Wi

PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THE

CHRISTIAN
ARBITRATION AND PEACE SOCIETY.
PHILADELPHIA.

Mittices:

BERLIN, 29 Behrens Strasse.

LONDON, 3! Paternoster Square.
jOD K

NEW YORK, 4
PARIS, 4 Place du Theatre Francais.

ROME, 1°7 Via Nazionale.

ADELPHIA, 310 CHESTNUT STREET.

 

59 Lexington Avenue,

PHIL

1890.

 

 
 

 

 

 

Entered according

to Act of Congress in the Office of the

Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C.,

MILLIETTE PRESs,
Camden, N. J.

1890.

MAcKELLAR, SMITHS & JORDAN Co.,
Electrotypers.

CHAPTER I.

AN EVENING CALL

“ Frances, there is a knock at the door; will
thee open it?” said Jeremiah Allen to his daugh-
ter as he stooped to arrange the heavy logs burn-
ing in the deep fireplace of their liy
The girl stepped lightly to the door
it to a tall youth looking ;

ing room.
and opened
about twenty-one years
of age ; he entered as one at home and took Frances’

extended hand of welcome with a merry little

bow.
“Come in, come in, James, I thought it was

thy figure, but was not quite sure in the dusk ;
sit down.”

“T will, thank thee,” and the youth took the
proffered chair, while Frances finished clearing
away the remains of their evening meal.

“Can thee take me in for the night?” asked
James Haydock, for this was the young man’s
name. “Two traveling friends have come to
Father's, and Charles and I gave up our bed to

them. Mother put Charles on the lounge in the
(1) 3

 
 

‘

4 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY,

 

kitchen, and I thought perhaps you might find a
place here for me. Is it quite convenient?”

“Entirely so, James, thee is always welcome ;
I will arrange thy room at once,” said Jeremiah
Allen, rising with a twinkle in his merry brown
eye. He was a small man, thin and wiry, active
as a squirrel, and, in his suit of butternut brown
he looked not unlike that nimble little animal.
His hair was still thick, though gray was plen-
tifully mingled with the reddish tinge of his
youth.

“Frances, bring me the old quilt from thy
room,” said her father, going to the closet and tak-
ing from thence several two-pronged forks. His
daughter obeyed rather wonderingly, but asked no
questions.

“Now, hold it up for me, will thee,” said
Jeremiah, briskly picking up a three-legged stool
and a hammer; then stepping quickly to one cor-
ner of the room, where a_ stout post had been
placed as support to a long roof-beam, he mounted
the rickety stool. Paying no attention to its un-
steadiness, and holding the forks between his teeth,
he struck one after another into the wood-work
through the old quilt, securing it to the wall and

AN EVENING CALL,

 

post until a space about six feet square was
enclosed.

“The handles stick out some, but it looks as
if it would stay,” said Jeremiah, stepping back to
survey his work. “What can thee want better’
than that, James? Push the sofa in behind the
quilt and thee will sleep like the king himself. I

pulled the little lean-to down to-day; the one thee :

called thy room. It was unsafe.”

“There will be ventilation here too,” sug-
gested Frances, “the quilt reaches neither to the
floor nor the ceiling.”

“All the better for that,” said James. “I will
run the sofa in, if thee will hold the curtain.”

“With pleasure;” and Frances lifted the
drapery with two slender hands as James pushed
the heavy deer-skin-covered lounge across the
floor toward her. She contrived however, to
let the heavy quilt fall on his head just as he
passed under it, and it was with flushed face and
disarranged hair that the youth emerged from
his improvised chamber to meet her demure
face.

“Was the quilt very heavy, Frances?” he
asked, looking at her rather doubtfully.

 
 

THE HA YDOCKS? TESTIMONY,

 

 

“Surely thee can tell as much about that as I
can,” she responded gravely.

I have felt lighter coverings,” he replied.

i. -
ae mORY T help thee put the cloth over the table?
Is it as weighty as the curtain?”

“ N ‘ H
0, it is us r coveri i
; S used for coy ering more delicate ar-

rangements,” re ; i i
g » retorted Frances, accepting his help

nevertheless,

“ I
should x ri i 1
ae ; not wish to be considered a delicate
rangement i i
g , I think, Frances,” said James, as he

spread i
pread the white cloth over the plain square

table already set in readiness for breakfast: for as
soon as the cups, saucers, and other ainda were
washed, they were returned to the table for the
next meal—closets being scarce—and were covered
with a protecting cloth.

e Very well, we will consider thee only a con-
venient arrangement, to-night. Thank thee, but
Saad put that corner straight,” said Frances
pe as she gave a finishing touch to bee

e.

eae Sate 4 i
Ae I who am making a convenience of
you,” said James.

“Chi S i
ildren, stop sparring, and come, sit down

ames, W h are 1e fr on ls é t i 7 ré 1er’s 1se
J te) e€ tl 7
, enc at Ly I atl e ous

AN EVENING CALL.

 

have they come to attend the quarterly meeting
to-morrow ?”

“That is their intention, I believe,” answered
James, taking his seat by Jeremiah Allen, as he
answered the old man’s question. Frances too
obeyed the summons. Plainly dressed in a light-
ish-gray material, she had pinned ona bunch of red
autumn berries as a breast-knot, for her father saw
no harm in her thus enjoying the beauty nature
scatters so bountifully. If God made scarlet ber-
ries and yellow leaves, why should she not take
pleasure in them? And thus it came about that
when Frances hung holly and clusters of burning-
bush berries about the yellow pine walls of their
simple dwelling, Jeremiah Allen never objected,
though some in this Quaker community thought
them useless decorations.

While James Haydock, sitting somewhat in
the shadow, rests his eyes on Frances’ fair face
with its oval contour and soft color, and tells
Jeremiah Allen of the unexpected visitors, we will
endeavor to give our readers a sketch of this set-
tlement into which we have rather unceremon-

iously introduced them.
In the State of North Carolina, not far from

 
 

 

8 THE HAVDOCKS

TESTIMONY.

 

the borders of the Dismal Sw
Quakers had dared to make
pines and live-oaks, whe
roamed undisturbed.
of the young man
England, several ye

our story begins, with his wife and fe

liking the bleak winds of Ne
first landed, he w

of 17— to a more genial c

emiah Allen, whose
America, ace
fered in ¢]

limate. His friend Jer-
family had been longer in
ompanied him.
laracter, but we
ious sympathies, than w
makes a stronge

The two men dif-
te at one in their relig-
hich nothing in reality

r bond of friendship.
themselves homes,

land that now re
vests,

They built
and cleared and cultivated the
warded them with abundant har-

Jeremiah Allen had lost his fragile wife
soon after their marriage, and her name was carved
on a gray head-stone in a little Ne
grave-yard.

teen,

w England
Frances, his only child, is now seven-
and David Haydock’s wife Rachel cared
kindly for the

motherless child and loved her
almost as a d

aughter, especially since the death of
t girl

her own swee at about the age of Frances

amp, a number of
their habitation amid
re wild animals had long
David Haydock, the father
above spoken of, came from
ars before the date at which
amily, and not
w England where he
andered southward in the spring

9
AN EVENING CALL.

 

David Haydock had left England sph
reater freedom for the exercise of his simp . A : ‘
ti since settling in the South the — sit
very had weighed very heavily mao his np ”
It wat in the year 1688 that the F riends of Ger
hoes a settlement near Philadelphia, ehh on
out the first protest ever made by any C rt “
church against this sin; and the Friends ” ~ :
ceased to issue, from time to time, earnest rosie s
to all Christian bodies and especially to their _ n
asl for the release of their fellow men from
waa We recall these facts only to show ni
the Quakers were pioneers in the oe .
ainst slavery, as they now seem to be in their
mi F inlkian war. If other denominations
ocala take up the peace question in _ = _
spirit which animated the ancient Quakers, whe
results might not be achieved ? rk ade
At the time our story opens, many ‘
es dati in the North, had already en
ptt deiitile In the South it was nearly ee
sible to obtain other than slave labor; re hd
lise ‘ srobation of one’s slave-holding neig a ors
er extremely difficult for Quaker families to

act independently.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCK. ” TESTIMONY.

 

 

Thus it happened that David Haydock and

Jeremiah Allen, both Elders in the meeting, felt a

heavy responsibility resting upon them in regard
to these matters. They had liberated their slaves
some yvonne before, and though two negroes, a man
ug his wife, had remained with the Haydocks
1e res ir ;
<coagphe ecaghg»
with dislike and indeed

ras liable to be kidnapped and resold, if he re-
mained in the South. The Friends had almostas
great ws objection to hiring aslave as to sdainicigumn
and so " resulted in many families having ns i
om is their own household work, often nf hard
sacrifice to principle. The cases of those Friends
who still held slaves in this Vicinity, in opposition
to the general views of the Society, were to be
brought up at the approaching Quarterly Meeting
and they were to be dealt with as the sense of the
Meeting should indicate. }

‘c T

: W ell, young folks, it is time for bed,” said
eremiah Allen, as the tall clock in the corner

Tang out ten. “Frances,will thee get me the Bible ?”

“ I os ” ‘
will,” se ames
1,” said James, whose graceful courtesy

distinguished hi y 0 -

AN EVENING CALL. 11

 

He took the well-worn book, in its smooth
leather cover, from the little shelf and handed it
to Jeremiah Allen, who read from Isaiah the ac-
count of the fiftieth year when all the bondmen
were permitted to go free. This finished, James
went to bar the doors and Frances stooped to cover
the embers in the fireplace.

“Let me do it for thee,” said James. “Did I
tell thee these Friends at father’s brought two
boxes from Friends in Philadelphia containing
supplies for our monthly meeting members? It
has come in time; for father’s coat is getting shabby
and we cannot get a ‘plain coat’ here for love or
money.”

“Pather wants a new hat, too, very badly,”
said Frances, “that last heavy rain we had, he
stuffed his into the broken pane in the window.

He was too sleepy, I suppose, to know it was not
his old felt hat, and Jacob Darnley had forgotten
to bring him the new window glass from the store
What a sight his silk hat was the next morning.
I tried to iron it out, but the brim will curl up.”

“ Better up than down,” said James, as kneel-
ing on the hearth he looked up with a smile at

her merry face, “I suppose they will open the

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12

 

THE Aa YD OCKS’ TESTIM ONY.

—————__,

eemantedda
boxes to-1 i
xes “MOIrow evening afte i
& after meeting is oy
All the neig saptiens

hbors will be there to see.”

“
I hope there will be some
a dress of; this ig growing

thing I can make

sai i 7) 5 ;

te So old,” Frances sighed,

things and it was not very

J

She had seen a dark blue

a 70 . . . 4

young girl living on a neighbor-

ation, and she longed for

“ 4 .

If there is nothing, I will]

for what thee wants,”
vat

hearth and picking

dropped from her be

6 D.*
Bright red?”
struck,

for she did like pretty
often that she got then,
cloth habit on
ing pls
g plant one just like it,
ask mother to send
said James, rising from the
up the berries Frances had
It, “ Would this color do?”
ata oe Frances, horror-
) S thee thinking of? Oh, no, I
ame mane have something gray.”
y hair is not gray,” rem
“ Neither is it red- th
less for th

arked James,

ain thee deserves one blanket
at insinuation,”

to get him the necess:
iy al
I ollowing to re

said Frances, as she went
‘Ty coverings for the night.
oo age her of her bulky burden, he
aug 1¢ of her hands between the folds, but
did not seem to know it until Franc oe
from captivity with
waved it d

es freed it
an impatient little pull and
oe eee near his ears. Then he

peared, retreating to hig lounge behind the

c

AN EVENING CALL, 13

 

 

quilt; while Frances shut herself up in her little
room with cheeks very much the color James
had suggested in regard to her hair.

Both the young people were soon asleep; but
Jeremiah Allen lay awake pondering the question
which burdened his mind. How should the curse
of slavery be wiped out of their society? The re-
signing of all domestic service would fall heavily
on many women among the Friends and it was
impossible to find other help than the negroes. It
was not wonderful that the eyes of many were
blinded to the wrong of slavery, or, that others
owning the wrong, knew not how to avoid it. It
seemed a necessity, yet it was sin, and sin is
never a necessity.

“He will direct thy way,” Jeremiah Allen
said at last, and fell asleep. When he awoke the
sun was shining; Frances had the corn-bread,
eggs and coffee on the table; James had milked
the cows and fed all the stock, groomed the two
horses which Frances and her father were to ride
to meeting, and both young people looked as if
the weight of the society matters lay but lightly
on their minds, although they did truly share
their parents’ convictions and willingly made the

sacrifices that these convictions entailed.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER II,
THE QUARTERLY MEETING.

Breakfast disy
ast dispose
dine. posed of, James Haydock left his
i 8 3 iospitable board and returned to aid
18 parents in making array ir visi
a ing agements for their visi-
0 attend meeting, The 7
isi. a. g nere were few wheeled
S$ 1n this uni
n this unimproved country, and the roads
were not such as t if —
neta ~~ &S to encourage their increase; but
OO see ee es g
avid Haydock owned a coach, and when Js
vaulted over t] a peel
er the fence marking the boundary line
e Ww 1p a ie 5
ma Jeremiah Allen’s small farm and their
own large >, it we ing i |
» “ger one, it was standing in the barnyard
wai P
ting for the horses to be attached. Charlie and
nna 7 or chi
m8 is the younger children, were standing by the
arria 1 i
“ec watching the proceedings with much in-
erest. isi i
Day The visit of these Friends was a great
vent ir ir s i
pith 1 their secluded lives, and the delight of
xtra ing i
‘ra Jeasting in the house and of greater state in
om i ight]
. & to meeting, was only slightly clouded by
€ pros av i
ir p of a very long session of the quar-
atheri 1
Y gathering. But Quaker children are early

THE QUARTERLY MEETING. 15

 

trained to self-control, a most desirable character-
istic.

Uncle Billy led the horses out and while
James helped in the harnessing, Charlie said:

“Brother James, does thee think I can sit
beside uncle Billy on the front seat?”

“Thee will have to ask father about that,”

replied James. “ Anna, thee may sit behind me,

I will put the pillion on Nero.”

“Will he go slowly?” asked Anna, for riding
behind her brother on his large black horse, though
a joy, was rather a fearful one.

“T will keep him quiet,” said James, smiling
at the small figure in a big sunbonnet. “Don’t
let him see that head-rigging though, he might

take it for a barn door.”

“That should not frighten him,” gravely re-
sponded the little lassie.

“Thee is right there; run round to the house
now,” and James soon had the saddle on Nero and
followed the carriage to the front porch, where
stood the two visitors conversing with David Hay-
dock and his wife Rachel. She made a pretty

picture standing under the vine-clad lattice-work ;
the Lady Banksia roses still showed a few late pale

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

16 THE HAYDOCKS

TESTIMONY.
a EAN AS. ee

ark green branches
irew its scarlet wreaths
ars, drooping so as to almost
of her bonnet and shawl.

yellow clusters among the d
and the coral honey-suckle t]
over the brown pill
touch the soft grays

There y

heavy coach ag i
avy coach as it rolled over the pine-needles
scattered so thickly ;
me 30 thickly along the sandy road, for the
meeting to be held to-d
and the matters to |
Important bearing
might and did, affect future generations,
As we have
by any Christi
from the F

ras not much conversation in the

ay was one of great gravity,
0 discussed, not only had an
upon the present company, but

said, the first protest ever issued

an church against slavery, came
riends of Germantown ;
this protest may be se

a
Friends’ Free Library

profound conviction of tl

and a copy of
en to-day hanging in the
in that place. To the same
1e equal rights of men so

th by the Society of Friends may be
traced the beginning of the

William Lloyd Garrison be
¢

abolition movement,

came interested in this
ause through his friendship with Benj. Lunday,

4 pupil in the school of John Woolman, the Quaker,
Stephen Grellet and William Allen influenced
Alexander I, of Russia, to take measures for the
abolition of serfs, an act which was accomplished

THE QUARTERLY MEETING. 17

peaceably in the reign of Alexander II. French-
men who were in America at the time of the reyo-
lution, were much interested in the views of the
Society of Friends and carried their sentiments
home with them. Especially was this the case
with Jean Pierre Brissot, the statesman of the
Girondists. To his efforts may be traced the
Proclamation of Emancipation in Hayti by the
Commissioners of the French Convention. Thomas
Clarkson also gave good evidence in his labors in
behalf of suffering humanity, of the influence the
Quakers had over him.

James Haydock paced slowly along behind
the coach,and little Anna sat silently grasping her
brother’s waist, not disturbing his meditations.
The youth also was pondering the slavery ques-
tion in a practical way, for a young colored man
owned by his father and lately given his freedom,
had been hanging around his old home in the
hope of getting his wife away from Mr.Bolton,owner
of the next plantation; he refused to sell her
to David Haydock, and indeed threatened to send
her further south. Mr. Bolton was bitterly opposed
to Friends’ views on the slavery question and

knew that David Haydock only wanted to pur-
(2)

 
 

 

 

 

18 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

chase Rosa in order to give her freedom. Dan,
the negro boy, wanted to get to the sea-coast with
Rosa and take a sailing vessel to the North; but
how, was the question? His old master would
abet no stealing of slaves or help a neighbor's
property torun away. Jameshad seen Dan the
day before lurking around the barn and felt un-
easy lest he should resort to some desperate meas-
ures.

Jeremiah Allen on his old gray horse, and

pe yey rit} ». ix 101
Frances with her lively brown pony, soon joined

the Haydocks on their way to meeting, and many

a grave-faced man with his wife riding behind
him were added to the company of earnest souls
moving toward the meeting house. <A few carts
on two wheels jolted slowly over roots unseen in
the sandy road and must-have brought their oc-
cupants in a very bruised condition to the place
of assembling. Occasionally a heifer or a young
steer was harnessed by ropes to these uneasy char-
iots, and carried the whole family along with a
frisky little trot that suggested a possible upset,
It was difficult to maintain much dignity in these
unevenly-moving vehicles, and Frances’ brown

eyes danced as she watched a family jogging along

THE QUARTERLY MEETING. 19

in front of her. The father was driving from his
board seat in front of the cart, while his wife and
children occupied the straw covered floor behind
him. The equipage was pretty full, but the two-
year-old baby did not seem to fasten anywhere
and kept up a lively oscillation between the sides
of the cart, the rest of the family being too much
occupied in easing themselves over unexpected
obstacles presented to the wheels, to take a firm
grip at any time of the flying little one; and
Frances was thankful when they all turned with-
out accident into the large enclosure bordered with
sheds that surrounded the meeting house.

“ What will thee do with the baby now? asked
Frances, as the mother descended from the seat,
and with sundry jerks straightened out the much-
tumbled calico frocks of herself and children.

“T think she will sit quietly with me, thank
thee,” replied the mother, calmly settling the in-
fant’s sunbonnet, “she has a griddle-cake in her
pocket and moreover may be glad to rest.”

Frances thought this very probable, and tuck-
ing her riding habit under her arm, followed into
the meeting house. Thesun was throwing golden

beams through the unshaded windows, mellowing

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

20 THE HAYVDOCKS: TESTIMONY,

 

to a warm richness the deep brown color of the
yellow pine used for finishing the interior of the
building; floor, walls, roof and seats all partook
of this ripened tint, and the cushions softening
the hard benches did not deviate from the general
tone. The men walked into the building one by
one and quietly took their accustomed seats.
David Haydock led his visitors to the first place
In the gallery facing the congregation, and sat
down next to them. The women, in odd mingling
of calico, silk and woolen garments, gathered upon
their side of the house with their children be-
side them; little legs dangled, and little heads
propped themselves uneasily against the single
rail forming the back of the bench ; soon the last
step had sounded up the uncarpeted aisles and a
solemn silence settled over the assembly. Out-

side, the hush was s sarcely less profound; the sun

had absorbed the arly autumn haze and now lay

clear and hot on the rather scant grass in the
meeting-house yard. No breeze waved the gray
moss hanging from the oaks, no bird chirped, no
squirrel chattered, only an occasional stamp of a
horse’s foot was heard on the sandy soil.

After a period of solemn waiting, the silence

THE QUARTERLY MEETING. 21

 

was broken by Jacob Pemberton, one of the stran-
gers, who rose in the gallery, facing his waiting
audience, and laid his hat on the seat behind him.
A slight indefinable movement throughout the
meeting expressed its readiness to listen; but no
general change of position or expression disturbed
this quiet company. In a full, deep-toned voice
he began :

“This is the word unto Jeremiah from the
Lord, ‘That every man should let his man ser-
vant, and every man his maid servant, go free. ’”
Then followed an earnest setting forth of the argu-
ment against slavery to which we have all so often
listened. Long and eloquently the speaker
pleaded ; the sun crept from wall to floor and from
one side to the other of the windows; sleepy little
heads under sunbonnets bobbed and nodded till
at last the hoods were taken off and the weary
heads were allowed to rest on their mothers’ laps
until the speaker had finished his strong appeal.
Just before the close of the first meeting, or meet-
ing for worship, Rachel Haydock, giving her gray
silk bonnet into the hands of her next neighbor,
knelt in supplication, petitioning for the careful

guidance and loving care of the Father in whom

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

22 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

they trusted, and in following whose teachings
they might be called on to make ees we
me ae ake much personal
sacrifice. A pause followed the conclusion of her
prayer and then the two men near the head of the
gallery quietly shook hands and the first meeting
was over. Several men rose from their seats ie
the floor and proceeded to close the solid shutters
that divided the meeting house into two rooms,
and so the men and women in their separate
apartments proceeded to the transaction of busi-
ness. Mothers permitted their restless children to
run out and amuse themselves in the yard, while
the clerk of the women’s meeting aioe the shelf
attached to the railing in front of her in the gal-
lery and placed the minute-books on this Saves.
nient desk, another woman taking a seat beside her
to assist in the transaction of business.
ri
The men’s meeting may have greater interest
for us, for although the women managed what
business came before them with much intelligence
and careful thought, the larger and more weighty
matters were handled and decided upon by ths
men. As soon asthe necessary preliminaries were
attended to, David Haydock, who was the clerk,

arose, res > letters j i ‘
arose, read the letters of introduction for the vis-

THE QUARTERLY MEETING.

iting Friends, and asked at the same time if their

company was acceptable to the meeting. Several
of the older Friends arose to signify, in a few
words, their willingness to receive the strangers
and listen to the messages they felt called upon to

deliver.
After a brief pause, Jacob Pemberton thus

spoke in reference to the subject weighing upon

his mind:
“T have been led to consider the purity of the

Divine Being and herein is my soul covered with
Many slaves on this continent are op-

1ave entered into the ears

awfulness.
pressed and their cries ]
of the Most High. Such are the purity and cer-

tainty of His judgments that He cannot be partial

in our favor. In infinite love and goodness He
ned our understanding from one time to

hath ope
yle and

another concerning our duty to these peoy

it is not a time to delay. Should we now be sen-

sible of what He requires of us, and through re-
} §

spect to the private interests of some persons, or

through a regard to some friendships which do not

stand on an immutable foundation, neglect to do

our duty in firmness and constancy, still waiting

for some extraordinary means to bring about their

 
 

 

 

 

 

24 THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

deliverance, G ay by terri i
eliverance, God may by terrible things in right-

eousness answer us in this matter.”

Many another earnest sentence followed and
when the speaker sat down, a silence prevailed,
which was presently broken by an elderly man, who
thus expressed himself: “I have well brot ght up
eleven slaves and now feel as if they must work to
vi ssh me.” He said no more, but reseated him-
self with his wide hat-brim pulled over his eyes
Another acknowledged that he had fifty distil:
and could but admit it was wrong; but onal eas
~ way out of itat present. Hardly had he seated
himself when a brisk little man rose from one
eorucr of the room and suggested that perchance
interest had dimmed the vision of the Friend who
had spoken last and hoped he might be favored
with clearer light on the subject. Another pause
ensued and then an anxious looking man rose
saying: “I own but two slaves, all the rest sca ied
been given their freedom; my wife is in feeble
health, has a family of young children and would
not be able to do without help. I find I can hire
little if any free service. Will Friends kindly
give me their judgment as to what would be right
in this matter?”

THE QUARTERLY MEE TING. 25

 

This was a difficult and not an infrequent

case. It was earnestly considered; most of the

Friends agreeing that it would be right to free
the slaves with a proviso that they should remain
a limited number of years for fair compensation,
and that in the intervening time efforts should be
made to introduce free domestic service into the
community. Many opposing views were presen-
ted, “but at length truth in a great measure tri-
umphed over her enemies,” and without any pub-
lic dissent the meeting agreed that the teaching of
our Lord and Saviour should induce Friends to
set their slaves at liberty, and four Friends were
appointed to visit and acquaint all members of
the Society that were still slave-owners with this
decision. This was a difficult duty, but it was in
time faithfully performed. One who shared it
writes: “ Looking to the Lord for assistance, He
enabled us to go through some heavy labors, in

”

which we found peace.
Midday had softened into afternoon when the

door of the men’s meeting house opened; the

grave company issued forth, and the slanting rays

of the sun lit up the earnest countenances under

the broad brimmed hats. On many of these faces

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

26

 

aaa trib: air i
one might trace a struggle passed through, a decis-
Gitrenched ands ‘neac
ion reached and a peace granted that no earthly
power could disturb. :
“Great peace hay
peace have they that love the Lord
. . :
and nothing shall disturb them.”
=
The wome
1e women had already concluded their
mee é ; 1
eeting and had their noonday meal. Frances
was talki “ > wi chi
ch s talking to the wife of him who so feared the
iberating of their tw
ses : a two old abasic: and the worn
aced woman was anxiously awaiting the ar-
rival of her husband. It was to her almost a
ioe point, so unable was she to perform her
10usehold ies unai i
duties unaided. A glance at his face
Ss =) a > ’ Tar
1e came toward her showed what was the decis-
ion ¢ she turned : im, fo
on and she turned after him, following silently to
t 2) J » g ra } é
he shed where their old horse stood sleepily
nodding after finishing his feed of hay. Frances
ran after her.
“ . :
I am coming to see thee to-morrow, Hannah
s rato eee .
Iston,” she said, then added in a lower voice
“cM, a ;
ather says the Master always takes care of his
own.”
cn 7. b] >
Thank thee, Frances,” said Hannah, turning
owar¢ > oir i é ;
ird the girl, the sweet expression of a sacrifice

called for : ive ‘ :
alled for and given, already dawning in her worn

~
‘

THE QUARTERLY MEE TING. 2

face, “The Lord will provide for us, I know,” but
Frances’ bright face was sober beyond its wont as
she watched them ride slowly away.

“TItis hard for families like that,” she said to
herself, as she walked to her own little pony. Her

father was still talking to the visiting Friends and

the Haydocks. Frances wondered why James did
as usual to assist her in mounting, but

not come
the young man having been keenly interested in

the day’s proceedings, and also much attracted

toward Jacob Pemberton, had lingered to listen to

what they were still saying. . Frances felt a little

provoked at his forgetfulness and going to her

father, touched his arm, “ Father, the sun is nearly

down, shall we go?”
“Ttis time for us all to go home. Here is
the coach. Friends, will you return now to sup-

per? You must be tired,” and David Haydock

placed his family in the big carriage.

A pleasant faced old man straightened the
brown cushions on the browner benches in the
meeting house, set the carpet foot-stools or bosses,
in order, and locking the heavy door, shut away
the sunshine from the now empty building. He
handed the key to David Haydock as he was get-

ting into the coach.

 
 

 

 

 

x, THE 4A YDOCKS’ TESTIMO VY,

 

“Tsaac, thee still h
thee?” queried David.

“He is still with me.”
doubt if he would go
feel regret at allowing

for him j is
pe in his old age,

as thy old negro, hasn’t

replied Isaac Coxe, I
anywhere else, and I should
any one but myself to care
, He ¢: ittle
ras can do little or noth-
it? TP}
1ee has been a ki
ee 1as been a kind master to him,” said
avid, as he g i ee
Sia » a8 he shut the carriage door
Drive on, Billy.” Ty
slowly throug!

after him.
1e once stately coach rolled

1 1A 16
the deep sand, and Isaac Coxe fol-

lowed I 1 i y ( I ( TSE W i =) be
lé i
’ V 4 JU ite 1 his ho rse ith t 1e de] er

ee Ae ie ae
ate motion of old age.

His slave C
se S slave Cesar had
broken the animal for the

70 aster
young master long ago,

and all three
é ee were advanci 1
e advancing in years together.

;
The quiet meeting-house

— yard was deserted, except

. a wild rabbit that loped softly out of the shad

ws and, after ; ‘ i.
in = after a careful survey of the premises

nidbled the sparse i sed

PS ithe parse grass at its ease, quite satisfied
at the Quarterly Meeting was over.

OLD CAESAR.

 

SS,

CHAPTER III.

OLD CAESAR.

The Allens and James Haydock had ridden
toward home some time before, and parted at the
cross road near their respective homes. James’
black horse was pacing sedately up the close ave-
nue of live oaks leading to his father’s house,
when Dan, the colored boy, stepped forward and
laid his hand on Nero’s bridle.

“Mars’ James, oh, do tell me what to do!

?

Mars’ Bolton dun say he gwine sell Rosa down
Souf nex’ week. I seed Rosa dis ebening. We

mus’ get off to de swamp or some whar befo’ dat.

When Mars’ Pemberton go ’way?”

“Take your hand off Nero, he will stand,”
said James, for the horse was impatiently shaking
his head under the tightened rein. “See here,
Dan, don’t go to Bolton’s to-morrow, keep round
here and see me toward evening by the barn. I
think I can help you get away.” The negro’s
mention of Jacob Pemberton had put an idea inte

 
 

 

 

 

 

30 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

the young man’s head. If Dan and Rosa could
only get away so as to join the Friends some dis-
tance off where they were not known, they could
travel as Friend Pemberton’s servants and no
questions asked. The thing to be considered was,
would the Quaker blood allow the passive decep-
tion? James feared not.

“Dars a pedler goin’ cross de swamp to-
morror or nex’ day an’I tink he gwine to cut ober
to de seacoast, after dat, in a few mo’ days. He
kinder half Quaker, nebber did ’blieve in holdin’
slaves, he say. Mebbe he’ll help us. Can’t stan’
it here, no how,” and Dan clinched his fists and
ground his heel into the sand, then stepping back,
was lost in the deep shade of the oaks as the big
coach came up the avenue, while Nero cantered
with his double burden up to the house.

“Run into supper, Anna, I’m coming too, as

)

soon as I have put up Nero,” said her brother.
The young man was undecided whether to
ask the traveling Friends to take Dan and Rosa
under their charge or trust to the pedler who he
supposed was going through to Norfolk. The
Friends would be the safest, as they were known

to have freed their slaves and often traveled with

OLD CAESAR.

 

free colored servants. No one would be likely to
question them, but then David Haydock objected

to assisting his neighbor’s slaves to escape, and

his objection was shared by all the Friends. Well,
he would think it over and see how the way
opened; meanwhile James was hungry and the
sight of the supper was welcome as he entered the
dining-room’ with its well-spread table. The
lamps were lighted, and shone with soft radience
over dainty damask, clear glass and bright silver.
Chicken, fried as only Southern cooks can fry it,
displayed its crisp brownness at one end of the
table; plates of raised bread, delicious corn cake
made of the delicate white meal, and flakey light
bread were ranged in numerous plates along the
board; young autumn radishes, salad, and the
clear crimson of barberry jelly made a most in-
viting spectacle, and Anna’s eyes rested long-
ingly upon it as she sat in a little straight-
backed chair beside the freshly kindled fire wait-
ing for the Friends to come from their cham-
ber which opened from tl is same dining-room
and on the other side looked out on the broad
piazza.

Rachel Haydock had just set a basket of

 
 

 

 

 

32 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

pound-cake on the table, when James entered, his
earnest face in a glow.

“Mother, may I brush my hair in thy room?
The Friends I see are still in mine.”

Et Cia at x ‘
Go right in, my son; Charles, thee needs a

little tidying also,” said the mother, as her younger
]

son ran in after James, his hair much disheveled.
“T hate sleeping in the loft,” he confided to
James, “I wish these Friends would go.”

“T thought thee slept in the kitchen,”
James.

said

“No, mother made me a bed in the loft and
the strings of onions swing right over my head
almost touching my nose, and the squirrels scam-
per round all night rolling hickory nuts. I believe
they dance with the rats.”

“What does thee know about dancing?” asked
James, smiling at the boy as he brushed his hair.

“Saw it once at Bolton’s. Come, the Friends
are ready at last,” and they all drew round the
bountifully spread table, bowing their heads be-
fore beginning the meal in grateful silence. Dur-
ing supper the conversation turned upon the old
slave owned by Isaac Coxe; he was happy, well

cared for, and would be retained in his comforta-

OLD CAESAR,

 

ble home until the end of his life; he was too old
to work and it seemed a case that might well be
left alone. John Mifflin, however, the Friend ac-
companying Jacob Pemberton, sat in silence
throughout the meal, and afterward expressed his
conviction that he ought to visit Isaac Coxe; James
Haydock offering to go with him, they set out im-
mediately after supper. Few words were ex-
changed on the way, for John Mifflin was seeking
Divine guidance for the performance of the diffi-
cult task before him, and James was pondering
whether it were wise to introduce the subject of
the boy Dan’s escape with Rosa, to this simple-
minded man.

Finally before reaching the house, he spoke,
“What does thee think about helping slaves to
run away from their masters?”

“God’s laws are higher than man’s, but I
should rather remunerate the owner for his loss,”
was the answer, and there was no time for further
discussion. In response to their knock, Isaac
Coxe opened the door and politely received his
visitors. They sat down, and after a few words
on ordinary topics, there was a pause. Isaac

Coxe’s eyes silently interrogated his callers, and

(3)

 
 

 

 

34 THE HAYVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.
SEAR CEILS a4 EI

 

then John Mifflin kindly opened his concern about.
old Cwsar. The slave’s master expressed some
surprise that any uneasiness should be felt in this
case, but finally consented to sign the form of
emancipation, saying at the same time that it would
not alter their relations, as the old man was per-
fectly happy. He rose and put his name to the
paper John Mifflin handed to him, while James
Haydock called in Cesar and gaye him a chair.
The old man was bent nearly double; his thin
hands were propped on his knees, his white head
was thrust forward, and his keen, restless, inquir-
ing eyes gleamed alternately on the strangers and
his master, who presently spoke, telling him that
he was no longer a slave, and that his service en-
titled him to a maintainence during his life. Old
Cesar listened in breathless wonder, his head
slowly sinking on his breast; after a short pause
he clasped his hands, then spreading them high
over his head, slowly and reverently exclaimed,
“Almighty God,” bringing his hands down again
between his knees. Then raising them as before,
he twice repeated the solemn exclamation and
with streaming eyes and voice almost too choked
for utterance, he continued, “I thought I should

4 OLD CASAR.

 

 

die a slave and now I shall die a free man.” His
hearers were too much moved to break the silence
which followed, and all sat together in the flicker-
ing firelight until Isaac Coxe said in a rather un-
certain voice, “Thee may go now, Cesar,” and
with tottering steps, but with a new light in the
old black face, the newly freed man turned to the
door saying, “Good-night, an’ God Almighty
bress yo’ all, gemen.” A few parting words and
John Mifflin with his young companion walked
away across the grass whereon the china trees
threw wavy shadows under the moonlight, while
Isaac Coxe returned to his meditation before the
fire. We may record the fact here that when this
Friend was called to face that supreme moment
when all other pictures of time fade out, the old
face of his former slave rose before him, full of
solemn joy and devout thanksgiving, and
strengthened him as with the blessing of God.
The next morning as Frances was busy about
her various household avocations, James Haydock
appeared on the threshold with a bunch of vio-
lets in his hand, which he tendered Frances, and
then stood silently watching her as, with a bright

“Good morning,” she took the flowers and fast-
>)

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

ened them in her belt. She looked at him inquir-
ingly.
on ae : ene ;

Thee has something weightier than violets
on thy mind, this morning, I think, James,” she
said.

“Yas 16: Da 2? :

Yes, I have, Frances,” he responded, “ and
want thy counsel about a matter that I must de-
cide on to-day. Come and sit down here a few
minutes. Thy father is out?”

zi as my me

He has gone to Friend Alston’s,” said Fran-
ces, seating herself on the door step.

Ah, he is the poor Friend with the sick wife
and big family who do not want to free their
slaves. Well, it is harder than people know to do
a thing like that; it would go hard with me,
Frances, to see thee toiling as Hannah Alston
does.”

“T never mean to,”

said the girl quietly.
James gave her a quick glance from under

is hlnek “heaves Tsk evn erate

pd lack brows, but her eyes were looking away

into the sunny calm of the October morning; she

seemed only observant of the blue jays darting

about among the yellowing leaves of the hickory

trees, yet he noticed a merry curve about the cor-
ners of her mouth.

OLD CSAR. 37

 

“T never half appreciated this slavery ques-
tion till the past few days,” he began. “ You
know father’s boy Dan? Well, he is nearly wild
over the thought of losing Rosa, and I don’t won-
der, for ghey were married only a month ago, and
now he wants me to help them get to Norfolk. I
cannot tell father anything about it; it is better
he should not know; I had thought of asking the
Friends at our house to take them, but decided not
to do so. Once get them to Norfolk and they can
take a sailing vessel north.

“Can I help thee? Where is Rosa?” asked
Frances, her sweet face now fully awake.

“That is just it,” said James. “ Rosa is down
at the far end of Bolton’s plantation, where he put
her to work, to keep her out of Dan’s way, and if
he goes there he will be seen and rouse suspicion,

g
and I fear my going would have the same effect.
Thee is always riding round the country, could
thee see her and tell her to slip off to-morrow
afternoon? Old Bolton is going away fora few
days, and he really don’t think Rosa will try to
get away.”

“But where must she go?” queried Frances.

“ Where can she meet Dan?”

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY

7; ve ”
I will tell thee.” replied James. “Dan
knows a pedler who is so} Vorfoll
a pedler who is going through to Norfolk

to-morrow night; he crosses the swam}

p about

eight o’clock in the evening, ten miles from here,
and if Rosa can get off while the hands are at
supper, between five and six, Dan will meet her

" Just up the road under the big bay tree at the en-
trance of the swamp. It gets dark early now, so
I do not think they will be noticed. The over-
seers are always lax when Bolton’s away.”

“Must Rosa walk that far, ten miles?” said
Frances, “ can’t we help them? ”

“T think it is better not. The less we are
seen with them the less notice will be taken of
their movements. But I mean to take a ride
through the swamp late to-morrow afternoon.”

“Oh, may I go too,” exclaimed Frances,
springing up in her eagerness.

“Go? Yes, anywhere,” answered James, rising
at the same instant; there was an inflection in his
voice that made Frances stop and glance at him;
anew manliness seemed to have invested him,
an unusual decision and readiness for action.

In ‘ r. Awe 7 ; }
Probably Frances felt the change in him, for she

” turne wietly j
immed quietly into the house, her eager manner

subdued for the moment.

OLD CAESAR. 39

 

“T will get my hat and try to see Rosa now,”
she said.

“All right, I will saddle the pony and have
him directly,” and James disappeared to return in
a few minutes with the pony ready for the slender
maiden waiting on the door step.

“ Mother wants thee and thy father to come
to our house this evening to tea. The boxes from
Philadelphia are to be opened and all the neigh-
bors are coming,” said James as he put Frances
into her saddle, and then walked beside her down
the lane, his hand on the pony’s neck. Frances
laughed,

“Oh, we will come surely; those boxes are
very interesting, and the neighbors are such fun,

”

too.

“Thee makes fun of everything, Frances,”
said James, an answering gleam of amusement
crossing his own face.

“Why shouldn’t I?” asked the girl looking
down at her companion mischievously, but her
face softened as she met his earnest gaze with a new
feeling in it that she did not quite understand, or
was not ready to understand perhaps.

“Our roads part here,” she said, touching her

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

40 THE HA VDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

 

pony lightly with her whip

as James removed his
hand, ‘

‘Supper will be ready
1pper will be ready early, I suppose, this
evening?”

“ er m=
Yes, come early,” he answ
; e early,” he answ ered, as he watched

canter away,
ar iter away, and then turned homeward to
ind the boy Dz rho was iti

20y Dan, who was awaiting |]
barn,

her

1im in the

“
Oh, Mars’ James, ‘spose old Bolton should

ome back to-morror; ‘spose Rosa couldn’t steal
a

ay Té y bd 7 =| ve
ha » or gits caught, what should we all do?” and

an twisted his S
an twisted his old straw hat nearly to pieces as

he thought of all that the next twenty-four
might bring of weal or woe.

hours

“Don’t keep s 3] d i
: t keep supposing; don’t think of the
anger, Dan, it will take all the man out of you,”
. 7 me % :
said James, who usually dropped the pl

ain or
Quaker mode of address when sp

ile bag aking to the
poe; »no reason why things should not
work right, and the pedler turning up just now
seems to me a Providential arrangement. Make
up a bundle of your clothes, not too big, mind
and I will give you some money to-morrow.” .

“Thank you, Mars’ James,” said Dan,

Jam 8 turned te £ int the h 1Se.
c C J go 0 ou

THE INSPECTION OF THE BOXES.

 

CHAPTER IV.
THE INSPECTION OF THE BOXES.

“ James,” came his mother’s pleasant voice
from the kitchen, “I want thee to go and ask
these Friends to come here this evening to supper,
and help with the boxes,” and she gave James a
list of namesasshe spoke. Engaged in her ample
preparations for the evening’s hospitality, the
pleasant thought of which brightened her face,
Rachel was an embodiment of sweet mother-
liness. She was not aware of the new-born
thoughts in her boy’s mind. She knew that he
had a quick, restless temperament, derived from
his Irish ancestry, and that it had developed
early, but she did not comprehend that he had ar-
rived at man’s estate, neither had she any suspicion
of his special regard for Frances Allen.

Merry, willful, passionate, but full of energy
and generous impulses was the girl he wanted to
make hisown Surely his wooing would not be

difficult; she knew few men except himself and

 
 

 

 

 

 

42 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

he could but feel that she preferred him to all the
other youths in the neighborhood. He would ac-
quaint her with his feelings and she would soon
respond. With these thoughts in his mind he
rode forth on Nero to attend to the mission his
mother had given him; calling at one house and
oem another, and leaving bright faces behind
aim in every family that received the invitation,
for supper at Rachel Haydock’s was a pleasant
prospect in itself, without the added attraction of
the big boxes and their valuable contents, His
errand accomplished, he was riding homeward
when two equestrians cantered quickly past him,
scattering the sand in his horse’seyes, So quickly
and silently had they come along the road, that
James scarcely woke to their presence till Frances’
merry face turned to give him greeting as she
flew by, flushed with the exercise and, as he
thought, with pleasure in the society of her com-
panion whom he recognized as young Bolton, the
son of Rosa’s master.

“Confound him,” he muttered under his
breath, for if he had had any doubt as to his
feeling for Frances this chance encounter would
have settled it. How could he know that the

THE INSPECTION OF THE BOXES. 43

 

brightness of the girl’s face was due to the fact
that she had accomplished her mission to Rosa
just before Hal Bolton met her, and was now doing
everything she could to draw the young man off
the track and lull any suspicion that might arise.
All James knew was, that no other man but him-
self must have the right to bring such roses to
Frances’ face. But this is not a love story, and
we must not linger over feelings, which, though
absorbing in youth, give place as years go on, to
the knowledge that principle and action are more
necessary than love alone to make one’s hap-
piness. Fortunate are those who in their life-work
can gain rest and strength from the full love and
sympathy that gives a double spring to all action.
By four o’clock in the afternoon the Friends
began to gather upon the wide piazza, and in the
large low-ceiled rooms of David Haydock’s hos-

pitable dwelling. Those horses that the stable

could not accommodate were tethered to fences
and trees. The older portion of the company
held sober converse inside the house, while the
younger members gathered upon the porch and
shyly entered into conversation on farm matters,

the expected opening of the boxes, or the new

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 es ,
4 3 THE TA YDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

additions lately ms
. tions lately made to the meeting-house librar
rances was late, « ; cis
. was late, and James having reasoned him
self into a more sensi : |
a ore sensible frame of mind about the
yan or 1 1
; i 1on of her morning ride, was watching for
rer father ¢ self ‘
er and herself down the long ave
In a few minutes, F ee
2 ites, Frances came cantering up
sib i : :
alone, and James went to meet her
els Q
ather has sprai i
: er has sprained his ankle and will not
come to-ni ” she i ;
“ane night,” she explained, as James helped
ner to dismc : :
Ismount. “I have seen Rosa, she is sure
she ce ; Ed i | ri
an get off, and is so glad; oh, James, I d
Lope ino will 3 ; ee
ft nothing will interfere,” Frances said ear
nestly, as she look i shir a
y, as she looked up at him, “thee thinks it i
pipake 5 ; nks itis
“We wi i
e will make it G
safe, please God,” i
od,” w $
answer. ee
“Supper is j
Supper is just ready; I will go help thy
mother wait on the Friends,” said F
sii » Friends,” said Frances, and
slipping off her idi i =
pping off her long riding-skirt, she was soo1
busy among the guests oe
TI
1e repast conclude
leg? t concluded, eager faces gathered
( A ‘4 Tar whi
ee 1e box over which Rachel Haydock was
ending, her gray si : ‘i
ia g, her gray silken dress rustling softly as
ne stooped ¢ , ingi sli
oped and rose, bringing out the s 1€
sent by thoughtful Fri hg: : eas
y thoughtful Friends in the North

BOXES 45

THE INSPECTION OF THE

 

“ Hannah Alston, thee wanted something for
Here are small gar-

the little ones, didn’t thee?
that will save thee a world of sewing,” and

ments
the Friend addressed came forward witl
r her worn face, to take the

1a grate-

ful smile spreading ove

bundle handed her.

“Tom Clarkson,
ames rather mischievously, as,

he drew out a pair of panta-
and gave them toa tall lank

these have not come a bit

too soon,” said J
helping his mother,
loons from the box
youth standing near by, who wore a pair of nether
h too short for him, though the
rial running above the faded

vision had been

garments muc
darker stripe of mate
hems showed that all possible pro
made for his growth. The “letting down” how-

ever, had not sufficed, and a vision of gray stock-

bove the shoes.

, James, I shall not regret the
I have on,” responded
es’ laugh; “I will

ings still showed a
“Thank thee
shortened wear of these

young Clarkson, joining in Jam
o the kitchen and see if they will fit.”

“Do so, Thomas,” said Rachel Haydock. “ Fran-
ces, 1 think this will suit thee, will it not?”
Frances took a long roll of dark blue merino from
- the hands of her kind friend and turned away to

just step int

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

46 g
THE HA VDOCKS TESTIMO VY,
examine her nhew treasure

softly, and sudden]
shoulders in a flee
drawn from the

Y enveloped her
cy white sh

depths of the box
\ x
until he could surprise Fy

“Look at thyself, F
and raising her head she saw he
flected in the mirror by the
Flushed, laug

eyes reve

and concealed
"ances with it,

n¢ MDG 7) e
rances,” he exclaimed ;

rown face re-
ig fitful gleam of the
11ng, a little annoyed perch

aled a de eli
pes deeper feeling than s}
, lor there ofte

fire.
ance, her
1€ Was aware
n comes to us, curiously e
ction in the glass, :

. € were but h
fore, as if the flee

nough,
a revelation
alf conscious of be-
ting image knew
than we did ourselves, |
away.

from our own refle

of something w

more about us

‘She pushed the shaw]

“James, thee

must not give
sent for some

old rheumatic |]
said, half pettishly,
“Will it not preve
cure it?” he asked.
and pains?
self.

me this, it was

ady probably,” she

nt rheumatism as Well ag
“Ts ita remedy for al]
I am half incline
Charlie may want it tl
what he is about,” the
denly aware

aches
d to keep it my-
10ugh, if father esas
elder brother added, sud-
that Charlie and Anna had been

risen ta

James followed her

head and
awl which he had

THE INSPECTION OF THE BOXES. 47

 

diving into the other box, which stood in the
shadow of the curtain dividing the long room into
two parts. This box contained men’s clothing and
a few plain Quaker bonnets. From the depths of
one of these latter coverings peered Anna’s merry
little face, and enveloping her small figure was a
huge gray shawl which trailed behindher. Thus
attired she watched Charlie struggling through
the mazes of a large coat; he found the armholes
with difficulty, and the final result of his opera-
tions resembled a heap of ready-made clothing
topped off with a large broad-brimmed hat. A
ripple of laughter from Frances at the sight of
the two little antiques, attracted the attention of
David Haydock as he moved among his guests,
saying a few kindly words to one and another.
He turned and beheld in the dancing firelight
the transformation of the two younger children.
Acting from impulse was not one of David Hay-
dock’s foibles, but it was surely not in consequence
of any grave forethought on this occasion that he
took the hand of each and led them into the cen-
tral group of his visitors. The momentary pause
produced by the spectacle of the two small figures

so curiously attired was broken by an irrepressi-

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

48 THE HAVDOCKS’ TEST

VMONY.

ble burst of laughter from the young people, and
over the grave faces of the older ones went a de-
corous smile, while the little faces reddened and
bent lower and lower till Charlie’s hat slipped over
his face, effectually concealing him from the pub-
lic gaze.

“Rachel, I think perhaps the children had
better go to bed,” remarked David Haydock to his
wife. She took Anna’s hand in her’s and was
leading her away, leaving Charlie still in the ob-
scurity of his large hat which he lacked courage
to raise, when Frances said, “Let me take Anna,
please. I will see to her,” and soon the little lassie
was unrobed and comforted with a piece of cake
in her unexpectedly early retirement.

“Charlie, can thee find thy way up stairs?”
asked David Haydock, and the boy, much impeded
in his progress by his unaccustomed garments,
slowly made his way up the ladder to the loft,

“Had thee not better leave thy coat for some
larger person?” asked his father again, a broad
smile finally spreading itself over his counte-
nance, and Charlie, reassured by his father’s tone,
hastily slipped out of the garment, letting it drop,
while he fled to the protecting shadow of the

tT 3OXES 9
THE INSPECTION OF THE BOXES. 41

 

4 , Yr ys, n
i renewe sal of laughter fron
loft amid the renewed pea g

below. |

1 ; ‘va « Tr 1S-
Soon after this episode the company dis
Soon :

i : 4 d » yy ne
satisfie 3 h the events ol the eve
persed, well satis fied wit

; ‘ed Frances home
ing. James Haydock accompanied Frances home,

and discussed the escape of Dan and a _—
was planned for the following night. T gibt:
visiting Friends were still up bins ee
turned, and he sat with them listening, 2 ses
talked long into the night of the curse of slav ge
and how difficult it would be to enadicate en :
whose roots had spread so deep ant far, * 8
themselves into the very heart of the socia 5) —
and threatening it with moral ruin at no very

distant day.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER V.

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.

The next day was warm, almost sultry; one
of those balmy days that return in late October
to remind us that summer still lays a lingering
sien on hill and dale. The birds twittered, loit-
ering amid the thinning foliage as though reluct-
ant to quit their summer haunts. :

The Friends staying at David Haydock’s had
made an early start that morning, intending to
visit a few more families who still held slaves and
required some peculiarly tender but clear in-
struction as to the right and wrong of so doing.
David Haydock and Rachel went with their

guests in the old family coach, telling James they
might not return till the day following.
“ ? : 7.
Oh, mother,” said little Anna, “ may Fran-

ces come and stay all night with us? I do not like
to sleep alone.”

Cl w <a en x . i
: would be very glad for her to do so, if her
ather can spare her; perhaps James can see her

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 51

 

 

to-day and bring her over,” Rachel Haydock re-
plied as she stepped into the carriage.

“That is just the thing, I don’t believe her
father wants her half so much as we do. Does
thee, James? ”

“No, Anna, I do not believe he does,”
answered her brother, as he tucked the lap-rug
carefully round his mother and shut the door of
the coach.

The day passed quietly ; James rode Nero in
the afternoon to Jeremiah Allen’s, and the old man
cheerfully assented to his daughter’s passing the
night at David Haydock’s. He was very fond of
James, ‘and saw with a calm satisfaction the
friendship between him and Frances. Jf he him-
self were taken away, he felt as if his daughter ,
might have a very happy home in the young
man’s family, all of whom he felt assured would
give her a hearty welcome. The merry little old
gentleman, however, showed at present no signs
of leaving this sphere for a more enlarged one.
He was, after all, hardly past the prime of life—a
rather dry and wrinkled prime, to be sure, but as
full of sweetness as the hickory nut a brown squir-

rel just then dropped on the roof of the porch

 

 
 

 

 

52 THE HAYVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

under which Friend Allen sat watching James
and Frances ride away. The sun, dimmed by
haze all day, was now almost shrouded in gather-
ing clouds which hung heavily over the Dismal
Swamp.

“We shall have a thunder-storm this even-
ing,” soliloquized Jeremiah Allen, as he noted the
threatening sky.

Frances presided over the early tea at Friend
Haydock’s, and then Charlie and Anna watched
the youth and maiden mount their horses and
start for an evening ride, James’ large deer-hound
trotting behind them. These expeditions were so
frequent as to call forth no comment.

“We shall be back soon, young ones,” said
James; “Charlie, go to bed early.”

“JT will,” replied the boy, and Anna called
after them:

“Frances, mind thee sleeps with me, I will
leave the door open for thee.”

“T will not forget it, Anna,” replied Frances,
nodding back as the two horses cantered away.
Neither spoke for some time.

“How dark it is getting, James,” Frances was
the first to break the silence.

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.

 

“ All the better for Dan and Rosa, they must
be well on to where they were to meet the pedler,
but I would like to know that they have gotten
there safely. It is their only chance of reaching
Norfolk for many a day.”

“ Does thee think a storm is coming?” asked
Frances, guiding her pony nearer to the big black
steed James rode.

“Tt looks lighter toward the west; I think it
may clear; here we are at the swamp, it does look
pretty dark in there.”

In truth it did; the live oaks gave way to a
thicker growth of bay and cypress, the latter ris-
ing with pale gray trunks from pools of black
water whose presence was made known only by
their glimmering reflection of the faint light still
struggling through the trees. Now and then a
wider stretch of water would make a break in the
wall of foliage, but so silent and forbidding looked
these pools that you could fancy them haunted by
many a spiteful water-demon, and when a long
black snake slid from under the hoofs of Frances’
pony and descended into one of these dark pools
breaking the sullen surface into long ripples as it

swam across, lifting its narrow head to look back-

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

54 THE HAVDOCKS’ TES TIMONY,

 

ward, she screamed and put her hand on Nero’s
mane. The next moment however, she ]

aughed.
“ How absurd I am,’

* she said, but added as
she turned to her companion, “Is thee really

going
to ride ten miles through here?”

“Ts thee afraid, Frances? We will go back
if thee says so,” he replied. “I did not think it
would be so dark,” he added half to himself.

“No, we will go on,” she said, “the horses

know every step of the way and the road is good.”

Her naturally high spirits thus asserting them-

selves, they rode on at full speed. Ina few min-

utes a sharp flash of lightning, followed by heavy

thunder, told them the rain was near, and as flash

succeeded flash, James was seriously alarmed, for

these storms often proved severe in this region

and the high wind frequently laid low many a
forest tree.

“There is an old house not far from here,”
said James, “If we can reach it we will be shel-
tered from the rain at all events.”

They hurried forward, the constant lightning
revealed the road in ghost-like gleams beneath
their feet, enabling them to discern each others,
horses and the red body of the hound following

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 55

———

 

in long leaps. The heavy shadow lifted some-
what as the road came to an open space, where &
deserted hut, built by negroes cutting timber in
the swamp, stood among heaps of old logs and
brushwood. The profound stillness of the forest
was broken by the rising wind that foretold the
approaching storm and the branches. sopeed and
creaked under the sighing gusts, The horses
picked their way carefully over the loose logs to
the little shanty, and James, springing to the
ground, lifted Frances from her saddle. ,

“@o inside, and I will put the horses in the
shed,” he said “The rain is just beginning.

”

The ) -rouched beside
tex, stay here. [The hound ¢
ini 1 uneasy, look-
Frances, but seemed annoyed and uneasy,
» —_
ici 7 I ‘| ‘the room be-
ing suspiciously into the gloom ol
hind him as if scenting something. The girl too
fancied that she was not alone in that ruined
abode, but felt as if some other living presence
aan ;
was there, and this vague feeling made her thank
as t Ne 2
step returning through the
ful to hear James’ step returning throug
sside her cing out into the
house: he stood beside her, looking « spurte
obscurity around them. Frances glanced behin
her, but said nothing.
‘ : Sat eee
“We are fortunate in obtaining shelter fo

 

 

 

 
 

 

“2 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

here comes the rain,’ and he drew Frances fur-
ther inside as a flash of lightning came simul-
taneously with a crash of thunder, and both seemed
drowned in one and the same instant by a sheet
of water descending straight from the sky. They
could see nothing through the gray wall of rain
eat shut them in. A rustle and a deep breath
from the back of the room made Frances shud-
der and press more closely to James, who threw a
protecting arm around her, and exclaimed sharply

“Who's there; speak out will you?” |

“a ] ’ : ?
Oh, Mars’ James,” said Dan’s voice, “I jus’
wasn’t shore who yo’ had by yo’ or I would have
‘lowed we was yere.”
oe
Dan, how under heaven!” exclaimed James
€ yoy « m6 r f, ty
and Rex sprang forward to paw the colored boy
over, for he was very fond of him; many a meal
had they shared together.
Whar so Pnan § T
Where is Rosa? What made you stop
a 2 en, Ty ¢
here?” asked James. “Why don’t you go on?”
Cg 2 are le e : ; ;
Rosa’s done gone sprained her foot an’ she
a a, “1 £ ’
can’t walk a bit furder, an’ de pedler, he’ll be gone
yY ¢ ’ r Ps ~
by an’ what shall we do?” groaned Dan, while a
. ; Gi
stifled sound of crying gave evidence of Rosa’s
5 , c

being beside him.

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.

 

“Oh, James, what will they do? Poor souls,

it does seem too, too bad after getting this far.
Will they have to give it up?” said Frances,
withdrawing herself gently from the arm that still

encircled her. James struck a match and looked

at his watch.

“Ffere’s a pine knot, Mars’ James, I took
notice of it befo’ it came so dark,” said Dan, and
soon a little heap of pine was blazing in the

rickety old chimney.

“The only thing to do is to put Rosa on thy
pony, Frances, and let me take her to the cross-
roads. Dan can run beside us and we can all

stand a wetting, I think, in so good a cause,” said

the young man.
“And leave me here?” asked Frances, her

voice quivering a little in spite of herself.
“That is the worst of it,” said James, “I do

not like to leave thee even for half an hour.”
mind,” said Frances more steadily,

“ Never
Rex will stay

“JT wanted to help and now I can.
with me and it will not be for long.”
“ No, an hour at the outside,” replied James,

“the rain seems stopping a little; | will get the

horses; Dan, you get your things and lift Rosa on

to Miss Frances’ pony.”

 
 

 

 

 

THE HA YVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

In two minutes the horses were ready and
Rosa, with a brightening face, was seated on the
brown pony, whose gentle eyes turned on her new
rider in an inquiring fashion.

“De good Lord mus’ have sent yo yere, Misses
Frances,” said the quadroon.

“TI think He did, Rosa,” Frances gravely re-
joined.

“Dan, put your hand on my stirrup, it will
help you along quicker,” said James, “Frances, I
can’t bear to leave thee, but I am sure there is
nothing to hurt any one, and Rex is good com-
pany.” He lingered however, looking wistfully
at her.

“Oh, do go quick, you will miss the pedler, I
am all right,” cried Frances, seating herself on
the floor with Rex at her side, and immediately
James was in his saddle and both horses sprang
out on a canter; they quickly disappeared through
the fast-falling rain, and the lessening sound of
their hoof-beats was all that broke tho stillness.
This ceased presently and Frances felt that she
was alone. Rex pressed close to her, and soon
Frances rallied and lifted her face from his

smooth head whereon she had dropped it for a

IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.

or Wi is tail as
moment. He pounded the floor with his tail a

7
if to assure her that he would do all he could to

protect and comfort her.
The rain gradually ceased, till only the drip,
a > d

a icine e
drip from the roof could be heard. The fire died

; ‘ 2 pessoal
out and left the hovel in darkness. But prese ntly
Cc
as Frances looked out, a soft brightness appeared
as France:
in the sky,and the moon broke through the

clouds. The white boles of the cypress gleamed

in the silvery light; the bay leaves glistened, wet
with the rain,and a whip-poor-will, balancing him-

ar by sent forth his long, low call.
self on a bough near by sent forth ‘

Frances felt less nervous and the big hound

lay lovingly with his head in her lap, very quiet,
ys od

3 Ti .) asse: slowly

but awake and watchful. Time pas sed slowly

.e Frances started at a shadow
however, and once Frances starte

creeping over a log, it was only
Ww oppressed with the intense stillness

a passing cloud,

( 3 *) h UT t ) h 1 soun 1 ( f h } ro
and stralne d er Cé O Catc c ~ i ©]
c is ( ) t e

5 nly Rex lifted his head
turning horses. Suddenly Rex lifte

i’ ne IAG 4 n > "9 ~ 1
and in another moment Frances heard the faint
Q

irregular click of hoofs. et
A few minutes after James halted in front of
-.

the cabin with the horses; and she sprang for-

ward to meet him.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

60

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

“Oh, how glad I am to see thee back,” she
exclaimed.

“Was it very lonely ?”
loneliness away from thee forever if I might.” -

Her head drooped on his shoulder
did not say him “Nay,”

said he, “I would keep

and she

as his lips touched hers
for a moment.

Rex poked his nose into his m
and wagged his tail, as F
pony’s side.

aster’s hand
rances withdrew to her

“The horses look tired,” she remarked, pro-
Saically.

“T fancy they are,” James replied, “but we
must be getting home for al] tl
never should be tired again, Fr
he lifted her into the saddle,
“Did thee meet the pedler?” she asked.

“He was just coming whistling
road as we reache

iat. I feel as if I

ances,” he said as

down the
d the corner; fifteen minutes
more and we should have been too late,” James
replied.

“Tt has been a good night’s work for Dan and
Rosa,” said Frances, soberly,

“And for me,” said James.
Frances urged her horse into faster pace and

 

61
IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. :

 

. A , y as ha | C of
ero z 300 16 dool
N fi llowins ’ they were soon at ti
c ; y 5 silent anc
V 1 Ha d ck a: vel ing, stan ling
D 1C a 0 S ly a 2 Ss ( og i“ =) t t :
Ss % 1 W y ler he i u er tall ol of
unde still nec 1 “ rt 3 |
ni I it ASS1S ances to alight, Jan e
ry While ¢ ssist I 4 | Yr 3eS y : a
n00n. ) 5
+ 1t LY something more than pus t goo ’
long ed to Se $ Ba t
wo d 3 did not come easily jus t t 7 ©
but yoras dit 5S } : a r
wh n, after stabling the ho ses e entere | t 2
8 e 3 ) V 5 I 1 8 lent ; a SC litary
h Si ? he room vas em ty c nd s1ie so :
< a e k urne 1 b fc r ’ 10un¢ ay
‘ eC eiore the mirror the | l
ca > dD : 1 508 an after
asleep tl >) neal tl e firep €
I a 1 ¥ é d £ t ay
c sl e on the ; a
k £ the front door J ames retired to 118 wh
loc ing , ’

appy dreams.
room to dream happy dre

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

4

CHAPTER VI.

AN ANGRY VISITOR.

The next morning James found Frane

es busy
about the preparations for breakfast, and in vain
did he try to get a word alone with her, or

a glance
from her brow

n eyes which seemed to avoid him
as she moved from the kitchen to the breakfast

room helping aunt Jane with deft fingers.
Charlie and Anna kept up a lively chatter

about all sorts of things, and soon after breakfast

was over Frances announced her intention of re-

turning home.

“Father is still a little lame with his sprained

ankle, and I do not like to leave him any longer.
Charlie is going to see me home with the old
horse,” she said.

“No, I don’t think he is; he has something
else to do,” James remarked quietly,
glancing at him knew she h

and Frances

ad in this lover of
her’s, a different person to deal with from her for-
mer merry boy companion. In her heart she

eh RE LPF

63
AN ANGRY VISITOR.

ir ride between
liked the change, and although their ride bet
; ile », yet when
the two farms was a rather silent one, yet
ev ¢ ‘ '
; i ‘g, ames turned
they neared Jeremiah. Allen’s, and James tu
2 se’s pace into a walk, she
ski sr horse’s pace into a ;
to her, checking her h I es
made no effort to urge the pony onward.
: ; i » + VC ig
“ Frances, say something to me,” the young
ances, Say :
ns is as thee was last
cade “Thee is not as t
man pleaded.
night.” > 1 Frances, look-
j cav?” answerec ; s,
“ What shall I say?” answer yr
eames otis
‘no intently at a bush that brushed her pony
ing J a
‘ Her cheeks flushed as she stretched out her
ear. He . oe
g scarle ries hanging o
‘each some scarlet berr
hand to reach s
bush. :
c i ce wants them
“TJ will get those for thee, if thee /
N 9 nibble the oTrass
:d James, leaving Nero to nibble the thin grass,
said James, leaving ” ~
i -athered the bright clusters and put the
while he gather g geiages:
into F ss hand. Then looking earnestly
into Francess hand.
her face, said : by:
“Tell me thee loves me as I love cg
at 9” irl re-
“Why should I tell thee that? the gir
i Sl ver her face, her
plied, a little smile passing ove! ] é : a
: Raa one 4 tie
head bending lower, however, as she me
c
nets I , wife, and
7 xe for my wife, ¢
“ Just because I want the
Just beca ong tas:
* oh, Frances, do not say me .
?

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“T will not say ‘No,’ J

ames,” Frances said
softly.

And James knew

from the shy look she gave
him that the de

sire of his heart w.

as won, though
she was in a very diffe

rent mood from the excited
one of the night before.

Now she instinctively
held him at

a distance,
Jeremiah Allen was writing
legged little table as Fr
daughter a rather
greeting.

at his straight
ances ran in, and gave hig

absent though an affectionate

“Ts James there?” he

“He has just taken
father,” replied hig daughter,

“Will thee run out and
to putting Doctor into the
to Isaac Coxe’s and my
little.”

asked.

Nixie to the stable,
standing beside him.
ask him if he objects
gig? I must ride over
ankle still troubles me a

Frances hesitated and yet the
to be assigned why
bidding.

re Was no reason
she should not do her father’s
Being under her own roof too, gave her
more confidence; and after a moment’s pause,
gathered her skirt ove

the stable.

she
r her arm and went towards

Some pictures impress themselves on our

4 65
- VY VISITOR

7D VISTTOR.

AN ANGRY Vi

; ‘er effaced, ana
inds with a vividness that is never ¢! piers
es iis impressions are among the es page
aa and commonplace canes sebl a ~—
ar Frances at this moment. I “ é oul x dyn
es near which she pes, seh wi
ers her feet sending out a fresh ase iy 8 _
nder the sun’s warm rays, the ne . igh
aia the chickens loitering about hen - path
“8 the perfect sunshine and the a sd =
ras Soames Haydock’s figure, as he 4 tees
se of the sweet gum tre¢ , shtening
airth of his saddle, all impressed
pe Jy, yet in a way never to be rae
a sae ot tat ranished as he
gravity of his face vat

weviatts
LO.

é coming
roused by her step, and coming pe
S A » » race Liat
usly, he took her in an embrac |
uae) i at time forth
te all her reserve from that tu 1
pa eé : | f Sige
4g r wants thee
“James, Father w nt. ae
ig 7.” gal orl,
‘f thee holds me so tightly,” s
. ; lf
ri ‘ ‘ee herse . i
endeavoring to f ak now and forevet
“Very well, thee can speak aS
ve ht I care,” loosing ls hot
~ for auch are, ) :
an emaagee pe rave her father’s me¢ sage.
her just a little as she gave | —
i ant rema 1
1 upon it in due time an ae
James actec uy into the ojo. took his
‘ri Allen in gig,
fully helping Friend Allen 11

(5)

ce
os :

 
 

 

 

66 THE HAVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

 

own way homeward, as Fr
within her own room and Ww

seen any more just then.

David and Rachel Haydock returned home

to dinner that same day, and toward evening, as

the mother was teaching little Anna some of the

necessary household work in the kitchen, D
Haydock sat looking over some le
alcove opening out of the livir
J

avid
tters in a small

1g room. His son
ames was copying accounts at a dark, old-fash-
ioned desk beside his father, when

heard and without waiting for p

a knock was
ermission to enter,
1€ slave-owner of whom we have
spoken, came in and approached David Haydock.

“Good-day, Mr. Haydock, may I
you a few minutes?” he asked.

Mr. Bolton, tl

speak to

“Thee is welcome, neighbor Bolton;
down,” and David Haydock handed his visitor
seat, resumed his own in the

,

sit

a
carved arm-chair,
and waited for his visitor to speak.
a slight bow to Mr. Bolton, continue
tion.

James, after

d his occupa-

“Mr. Haydock, I do not know how
are responsible, but I have lost’a girl of mine

whom you once tried to buy, and our surmise

far you

is

ances had disappeared
as evidently not to be

AN ANGRY VISITOR.

 

that she has gone off with your boy Dan. T =
tell me on the plantation that she was there late
yesterday afternoon, but did not come te supper
with the rest of the hands, and this morning she
is nowhere to be found. Can you tell me any-
thing about her?” , 3

There was a certain insolence in the man’s
manner that made James’ blood boil, but he
made no sign, neither took part in the yiraiener
tion. “Iam sorry for thy loss, neighbor Bolton,
replied David Haydock, “but can give ra
light on the subject, I was away all pe  jrPhage ay
and last night; only ean noon.

“ Exactly,” said Bolton, “ You, and your hon-
est Friends, who think it no harm to st pa a
neighbor’s property, went away ee
and most probably made ee 9 :
my girl Rosa to meet her rascal of a aR see as
he calls himself, at some point noe ree) : ; ais
know all about it yourself, but will not he pa
man to recover his own,” Bolton spoke angrily.

“Thee knows I never approve of helping
other peoples’ slaves to run away,” See
David Haydock calmly. “ Weare not responsible

ing of srs and therefore can-
for the wrong-doing of others ¢

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

68 THE HAYVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

not interfere, except in so far as we try to set be-

fore them the way of truth. I have often labored

with thee about the sin of holding slaves, but

having failed to persuade thee, can but let it rest.

Nevertheless, I would not assist thy so-called

property to run away, although I sympathize fully
with the longing for liberty that prompts such an
act.”

Bolton scowled.

“You really tell me that you have not gotten
the girl off?” he queried doubtfully.

“T have not, and moreover I have heard
nothing from John Pemberton or his friend that
would induce me to believe that they knew aught
about the matter; thee can get no information
here,” answered David Haydock. James’ lip
curled with irrepressible amusement, as he bent
his head lower over his writing.

“T venture to say that young sprig beside you
knows all about it then.” Bolton began again,
looking at James.

“James?” said David Haydock in surprise,
turning to look at his son and dropping the paper-
cutter he had been toying with. “Ido not think
he would be likely to know anything about it.”

Paes Bie art
Pa AS SF)

AN ANGRY VISITOR. 69

 

He picked up the paper-cutter again, crossed 0
neatly clothed legs and sat quietly regarding his
visitor. James still wrote on, though the last rey
of sunshine had crept away from under the vine-
clad porch and the large room was beginning to
darken. Bolton felt baffled. Suddenly he ex-
claimed :

“You are ruining the country with your
cursed anti-slavery notions. A man will not be
able to say his soul is his own before long, much
less his property, and here you sit in your cone
founded self-righteousness and call thier right,
and openly abet stealing another a goods.
You’re no less than a set of thieves.

“ Friend Bolton, thee has said all thatis neces
sary; perhaps we had better close this anat ter:
for the present,” quietly remarked ware ”
dock, slowly rising from his saith till his —
figure stood erect and dignified before the =
man. James had risen at the same momneny arn
stood close beside his father, as tall, and, if pret ap
broad, more lithe and active, with a blaze of in-
dignation in his dark blue eyes.

“ Mr. Bolton, I shall take pleasure in showing

- it is growing dark and you may
you the way out; it 1s growing da J y

-

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

70 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

not find it easily,” and the young man stepped
forward with an air of command so irresistible
that the disappointed and enraged slave-owner
could do naught but obey.

After watching Mr. Bolton’s retreating figure
4 moment, James returned to find his father with
hands clasped behind him, thoughtfully pacing
the floor, while Charlie put a match to the fire
ready laid in the ample fireplace. The flames
leaped and danced, lighting up James’ face as he
leaned against the mantle-post. His father paused
opposite him.

“James, thee was twenty-one years of age last
week ?”

“T was, father.”

“Then thee is responsible for thy own ac-
tions.”

“T ought to be so, father.”

“That is probably the case, and I shall ask
thee no questions.”

“T appreciate thy confidence and will honor
the trust,” his son replied.

Supper was just then brought in and neither
at this time, nor afterward, was any allusion made
to the escape of Rosa with Dan, except once, a

71

AN ANGRY VISITOR. aes

 

ew we sa rwat W 1 games hanc
few reeks ¢ e vard, The Ja e : :
f ther a letter from I hila lely hia, say ing
atner ¢ ( )

I 5 l safi ] t hr ‘ ( a nada.
had yassea Sale y ough to C

led to his

hat the

pair

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VII.

A SUDDEN CALL.

It must be remembered in reading this account

—) 1A Seay 7 ‘ ¢

of the escape of Dan and Rosa that such a thing
ne

was far more easily ac i
r more easily accomplished then than in

later years Lun-away s
: ars. Run-away slaves were then com-

aratively few, a as a consec
I ew, and as a consequence, less care
was taken to prevent their flight,

ie y . 1e¢ tin? l> .
communication did not exist and traveling facili-

ties were poor, so that tc
vere poor, so that to overtake and bring back

lelegraphic

ys was a difficult matter. Once a fugi-
“v¢ . a
as fairly off, the owner might give up all

ing him again. This Mr. Bolton

new and ‘ > 7 . 7
k w, and the know ledge Increased his anger
- 5

as he went home, b: i :
as he home, baffled in his attempts to

ean anv intormat . ;
gain any information from Dayid Haydock. to
whom he had gone, feeli 1 |

| a gone, feeling him to be one upon
whom he could legitimately vent his rage. The
calmness with whi ok

ulmi with which he had been met, only

to provoke him the more. He struck

‘uy with his heavy,loaded cane at the bushes

A SUDDEN CALL.

 

bordering the road as he went home through the
plantation. A shrill derisive laugh, apparently
provoked by his actions, fell on his ear; it issued
from a thicket close beside him, and he recognized
a half-witted negro boy swinging on the wild
grape vines.

“ Mars’ Bolton mad at somefing? Has Rosa
run away an’ can’t be foun’ no how?” He broke
out mockingly into a line of a hymn; “She’s

gone, she’s gone to Canaan’s happy shore,” and he
swung on his grape vine toward Mr. Bolton, stoop-
ing and looking full into his face. The cane was
lifted and a heavy blow aimed, not at the boy,
but at the stem he was on, for Bolton did not
really mean to injure him, but as the negro bent
down, the stroke fell on the back of his head and
laid him senseless at the white man’s feet. Shocked
and horrified, Bolton stooped to lift the boy up,
but the form hung on his hands like the dead
weight it was, and as he turned the limp head to
the still bright western sky, it was plain to be seen
that the half-witted spirit had fled to a sphere
where a new intelligence was granted it. The
loaded cane had struck the base of the brain, and

its work had been swift and painless.

Ly

_

—

—————

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“What shall I do with him now?” said Bol-
ton. “I did not mean to killhim. I'll let people
suppose he fell off and broke his neck. His old
mother will be better off without him anyway; I
reckon Bill was nothing but a care to her and

”

she'll be glad he’s gone.” So saying, Bolton pulled
the unresisting form under his grape-vine swing
and left him in the dew and dim starlight, while
the old mother sat in her cabin waiting for the re-
turn of the child who supplied the sole interest
of her lonely life,and whom she loved, though he
was so wayward and capricious. Old Milly had
been free for several years, and had chosen to stay
near her old home when her former master had
moved away; she, with her boy Bill, living in a
tumble-down cabin on a corner of David Hay-
dock’s farm. The Haydocks saw that she did not
suffer for necessaries and Bill would occasionally
do a half day’s work, a thing he could easily ac-
complish when the fancy took him, for he was
big and strong as these “innocents” often are.
Beside his mother, James Haydock was the only
person for whom Bill showed any attachment, and
to him, this half-witted boy frequently brought
squirrels and ’possums that he had trapped. No

we
‘

A SUDDEN CALL.

more of these wild gifts would the motionless

i ‘ew 1 , sere the people
hands ever bring, and few indeed were peo}

ld mourn Bill’s departure from his little

who wou
world. ny, :
After the first shock at the result of his reck-
i FC , for the
less blow, the old feeling of contempt i
’ . ii al
«yiooer” returned to Bolton's mind. One less or
nigge |
was very little consequence ¢
, had souls, ¢ ,er-
people even doubted that they had souls, ind ce
carded them as little above the brutes,
gt
i -eover, Bill had been an
this one especially ; moreover, Bill
st to the Haydocks and shared in

1 Bolton regarded the whole

anyhow; some
more j

tainly he re

object of intere
the dislike with whicl
family.

“They will make search and fi
“ ll not disturb myself more a
idiot that he was, to provoke me
moodily walked on
unkind to his own

fairly happy under his

1d him in the

bout
morning; I wi

it. Grinning
so!” and the slave-owner
homeward. He was not
AS j 1A +4 TA ‘Ee
negroes; indeed they wel pipet
rule; but to have complete control of a
at y > >» €
fellow-beings and to exert over them an
authority from which there is no appeal, curiously
; ; a ‘ 2c
instead of evoking the highest and best
bring out the brute.

of one’s

enough,
qualities within us, usually

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

About the middle of the following afternoon
eames Haydock, while helping uncle Billy dosaie
the hinges on the barn door, saw old Milly com-
ing toward them across the potato field.

* Old Milly is getting more feeble every day ;
don’t you think so, uncle Billy?” |

“Yes, Mars’ James, dat she is; I reckon her
Bil wear her out; he is a mighty onexpected
kind of a critter an’ nothin’ is as wearin’ as dat
sort of sudd’nt s’prise he gibs her all de time.”

“ Good-evening, aunt Milly,” called James as
she neared them, walking slowly, “how is Bill?
All right?” |

“Dats jest it, Mars’ James, Bill’s been called
to glory in de twinklin’ of an eye, an’ it has kinder
upsot me.”

“What! Milly, you don’t mean to say that
Bill’s dead?” said James stopping his work and
looking at her, “here, sit down on this log; you
look tired out,” seeing how swollen were ae poor
old eyes and how grief-stricken was the wrinkled
face.

“Deed, Mars’ James, it is tryin’ to de flesh
dese onexpected movements of Bill’s, an’ dis iy
one’s de wust I ever ’sperienced. Dey foun’ him

77

A SUDDEN CALL.

 

nin’ a layin’ on Mars’ Bolton’s back road

dis mor
o fond of

under de grape vine twists he’s allars s
Pears as if de motion soothed him,
a swung too hard an’ jes’ fell
Oh, why, Bill, did yere go

swingin’ on.
’ |
an’ dey say he mus

off an’ broke his neck.
re old mammy alone in de cabin to

an’ leab ye
wait till de golden chariot calls fo’ her at de do’,”

and the poor old creature broke into such unre-

strained sobbing that James was glad to see the

comfortable figure
towards them. Aunt Jane took the weeping
the kitchen, where soon Rachel Hay-

her with sweet and comforting

of his mother’s cook coming

woman into
dock was soothing

words, and before long
abin with slow uncertain

James saw her wending

her way back to her ¢
under her burden of woe, so gr pat

steps, bending
ess than nothing to most of

to her, though almost |

those about her.

“ James, old Milly w

house,” said his father, when his
“and if thee is willing to

ants to have the funeral

from our meeting

son came in to supper,
go and see that everything is done carefully, it

It seems to be a comfort to these peo-

can be so.
times as

ple to have
Can thee go to-night?”

as much ceremony at such

possible.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“Oh, yes, I will go, to be sure; it is about the
last thing I can do for poor Bill. He was really
fond of us; it was only yesterday he brought me
a squirrel he had trapped.”

“Very well; here is the key; do not let them
keep it up late.”

“JT will try to hold them within bounds,
though it is not very easy. I think I will take
Frances, if she will go on Nero,” said James. He
had told his parents of his new relations with the
maiden, and their satisfaction was only less in
degree than his own, for they had ever felt a warm
love for her, and this engagement was very pleas-
ant to them.

The clear yellow of an October sunset was
still lingering in the west when James rode up to
the steps of Friend Allen’s porch and fastened his
horse to the post near by. Frances was singing
to herself as she moved about the living room, and
looking up saw James enter, his figure obscuring
the fast fading light.

”

“Ts thee alone, Frances?” was the youth’s

question as he came forward to greet her.
“Enough so to make thee a welcome guest,”

replied the girl, a little mischievously, though the

soft color deepened on her cheek.

79

 

A SUDDEN CALL.

————

ces releome when
“Then thee only makes me welcome

9)
thee has no one else to talk to?
“T doubt if ever so much company would in-

4 >, ”
crease my wish to see thee.
: ? =ts ; AT A=
“ James, thee is always welcome,” said Jere

Allen, issuing from the door of his little
* ’ - oD

miah ; a: :
hands with his future son-In-

room and shaking
. ou 9 9?
‘wi : sit down ?
law, “ will thee not sit
“JT came to see if Frances wou
vid, turning to seek her face

ld go out with

me to-night,” James sé .
twilight, and then he told them

in the darkening ~
ow and of the funeral to be hele

of old Milly’s sorr
£ .eting house.

at the meeting a
“JT would like to go very much, 2

< a ,9

can thee saddle the pony for me?

: .
1 Nero, Frances; he 1s

said Fran-

ces. ‘ Father

“JT have the pillion 01

Ol if thee is willing to try
quite used to going double, if t g

him?”
hesitated and then laughed.

Frances oe
inks I might as well begin

“T suppose thee thinks I might as :

' : er-

d to going double too:

i
I will be ready in a minute.
nsity to tease, there was

howed her heart

to grow accustome
haps thee is right;
In spite of the girl’s prope

t frankness about her thats

a swee
ave an earnest that

was in the right place and g

Ee I ALI Rn

are,
=

RL RES

“zm

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

80 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

she would never carry her playfulness far enough
to hurt the feelings of any one. Ina few mo-
ments Nero paced gently down the road, stepping
carefully under the newly assumed burden, to
which he was destined in future to become well
accustomed.

It was quite dark as they neared the meeting
house, and from many directions the eye could see
the twinkling of torches as the negroes gathered
from those plantations within easy distance. The
news of any event among these bond-people spread
with curious quickness; both Rosa’s escape and
Bill’s death were well known at the adjacent
farms, and the slaves had sent a request to their
masters to allow them to attend the funeral of the
half-witted boy whom they all had known. These
requests were granted, as the slave-holders were
not averse to their people having a little variety
in a harmless fashion. Mr. Bolton especially felt
it in this case a sort of compensation he owed old
Milly, and willingly permitted his slaves to join
those who were to carry Bill to his last rest-
ing place. No one knew his share in the catas-
trophe; no questions had been asked; and he
did not feel it incumbent on him to say anything.

A SUDDEN CALL. 81

 

When James and Frances entered the meet-
ing-house yard it was full of moving forms whose
black faces showed but dimly under the glare and
smoke of the light-wood torches.

James fastened Nero ina shed and passed
through the crowd. It opened to let himself and

Frances approach the door, before which stood six

As soon as the house

men bearing a rude coffin.
was open, James and his companion stepped in-
. ?

side and stood, while the crowd pressed by, follow-

ing the coffin-bearers to the head of the middle
* . . ee
aisle; there they deposited their burden in front
c , a ‘
facing the rest of the benches. The
een stacked, still burning, In many
ly lights inside

of the gallery
torches had |
pyramids about the yard; the on
of the meeting house were four candles, two at ~~
head and two at the foot of the now open coffin.
f the dim circle of light thus formed

silently, taking their last

In and out 0
the dusky figures passed
look at the features well remembered by them as
wearing only mocking and derisive grimaces, now
so quiet and almost sweet n their relaxed rigid-
ity. Noiselessly the dark forms pomner around
and onward until all were satisfied. They then
took their seats in the body of the meeting house,

(6)

ETI RATS

—

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

82 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

the only persons remaining near the coffin being
the bent figure of old Milly and the negro min-
ister; above them were the high unoccupied
benches, their front railings gleaming indistinctly
in polished lines, while the seats lay in such heavy
shadow as to be scarcely visible. Frances im-
agined she could see fantastic shadows peopling
the dark galleries, and the fancy remained with
her as the gaunt preacher arose and began his ad-
dress, occasionally turning to the vacant seats
above him as if he too could see visible faces in
the dim darkness.

The pungent smoke of the torches was blown
by the veering night wind through the door by
which the girl and her companion were sitting.
Used as she was to seeing negroes about her, the
strangeness of their own being the only white faces
in the dimly lighted building, brought a curious
feeling with it. The voice of the preacher rose
and fell in measured cadence as he dilated on the
sudden passage of the chariot that took Bill away
to the promised land, leaving the sorrowing
mother alone. Long and eloquently did he speak
with outstretched arms, and when exhausted by his

* efforts he paused, a big negro in front of Frances

A SUDDEN CALL. 83

 

began a hymn in which one after another joined,

swelling chorus with ¢ od
accompanying the swelling chorus with a muffle

stamping of feet and slow swaying of the body.
suder ¢ re impassioned grew the singing

Louder and more 1my g

until it seemed as if the roof would be riven by

the volume of mournful sound; suddenly it

ceased and a dull impassiveness settled down

again on the dark faces. The preache r arose once
f=)
and in a few brief sentences, whose calm-
?

ness contrasted oddly with his former excitement,

sionified that the time had come to proceed to the
fo)

more

grave.
The service was over.
ied the coffin stepped forward to close the lid
nt for old Milly, who had bent

The men who had

carr
and paused a mome
ad on the narrow box, to rise and allow

her hes :
them to go on with their duty. She did not stir,

acher gently touched her arm; still

and the pre
and he took hold of her hand.

she did not move ‘
The next moment he looked up with a startled air.
“Bless the Lord! he’s dun taken Milly to

° ’ 79
glory, right yere an now: ise
An indefinable movement through the house

told James that a rush would be made to see the

old woman, if the excitement caused by this sud-

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

84 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

den event was not controlled, and before the con-
gregation could rise he had passed quickly up the
aisle to the coffin.

“Start a hymn, brother Zeb, and tell them to
stay in their places,” he said to the preacher, who
with the prompt appreciation of his race, imme-

diately complied, and the rising feeling was kept in

check. James stood a moment in doubt as to:

what to do next.

“Can we bury them together?” he asked,
speaking low to a strong negro standing by him.

“T tink we can, Mars’ Haydock,” the man re-
plied, “old Milly is putty small, an’ dis box is on-
common big; I dunno who made it, but as ’tings
hab ’curred, it is mighty lucky.”

“Tt seems to me the best thing to do,” said
James. “Tell your friends here to lift up the old

creature gently,” but he had no need to warn them ;

tenderly they laid the tired old head beside that of

her son, and Frances having followed James,
lightly spread her white handkerchief over both
the faces resting so close together. The negroes
showed their approval of this arrangement by be-
ginning a wild resurrection hymn which they sang
as the coffin was closed and taken out. All the con-
gregation followed, still singing. The torches were

A SUDDEN CALL. 85

 

picked up and carried in the procession to the
orner of the meeting-house yard, the
and falling as the

grave ina c
cadence of the hymn still rising
ed themselves as closely as possible

people plac
around the new made grave.

In the silence that then fell over the gather-
r turned to James Haydock.

ing, the preache : i
1] us a few words, Mars James ?

“ Won't you te
Do now.” Taken by surprise,

nt, but then stepped forward

mome oe
covered head offered an earnest thanksgiving that

overe €
ere together again, and a

James hesitated a

and with un-

the mother and son W me? “
i » the call to
prayer that however sudden might be

it mi 1 mm ready. The
another country, 1t might find them ready
< ) J
e filled, the company silently
king their different ways homeward,
>
sand as they

dispersed in small
grav
groups, and ta

i i ir torches in the
extinguished thet torches 1

reached their various cabins.

James locked the meeting house, al
.. rode home through a dark-
>

id putting

Frances on her pillior
ness that even the light

illuminated but faintly.

of the southern stars
The wild grapes gave out
damp air, and a few
crickets chirped feebly along the road-side as though
they knew the summer was over and the chill of

the late autumn would soon be upon them.

a strong perfume 1n the

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
1864,

Slavery had been gradually eliminated from
the Society of Friends. In 1784, several different
Quarterly Meetings having reported that many
still held slaves notwithstanding the advice and
entreaties of their friends, the Yearly Meeting di-
rected that such offending members should be dis-
owned.

Every effort was made to induce these mem-
bers to see the sin in its true light, and a resort
to the final measure of disownment was put off as
long as possible, so that it was not till 1818 that
the Yearly Meeting was able to make, as the final
result of their long wrestling with the evil, this
brief record, “ None held as slaves.” This happy
event occured a few months after the beginning of
our story, and the following summer James Hay-
dock married the maiden of his choice. We
shall resume their history again as it grew eventful
in 1864, the fourth year of the civil war, when

87

1864. ee

 

. ‘ew its deepest
scarcity of men and means threw its dee}
Pele A
shadow over the South. } ee
r of 1864, in which we gather uf

This summe ,
of our story, shows many a change 1n

the threads a hahaa:
3 of James Haydock and his wife Frances.

the live .
of the maiden where she was

The early home

wooed and won 1s her’s —
been laid under the thickly

no longer, for Jeremiah
Allen has long since teases:
falling pine-needles which cushion almos

alling }

cealment the low mounds in t —_
David and Rachel Haydoc

he grave-yard near

the meeting house. digs
ir last sleep in this ancient burying

almost identical with
in

also sleep the

ate of which is
ground, the date of whic

c > 8S on f as t thorne says,
th ut C { the settlemel t; or, 1 H LW c
C
~ ar time! pl 1s10 V s m n accora-
n was ade CCO it
those ea ly 1mes, TOVISIC c

spirits, ¢ as
he needs of departed spirits, about a

ance with t ven Ms
that necessary for the living mate tas
: i 1 ife he J sitec
c ‘j s married life had vi
James Haydock during his ma

and trafficked in the Nort | segs
themselves married, in tha

rial body.
soon as

h. and indeed had settled

several children, now ae
our country ; and then,

ressive part of
sy and agressive pal |
vb ‘i nself and his

1e inclination of both hit
ed to the old farm, so pleasant to
Their only un-

following tl
wife, had return
both in their early assoclauons.

ight girl of twenty
married daughter Molly, a bright girl of y>

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

and John, a boy of fifteen, so much younger than
the rest as to be a great darling, were still with
them to cheer their old age. “Old age,” however,
could hardly be applied to the pair standing on the
porch this afternoon. Frances Haydock leaned
against one of the posts that was almost hidden by
scarlet honeysuckle. Her wavy red-brown hair
was thinner than in years past, but not much more
in control than then, and the delicate rose tint still
lingered freshly in her cheek. To-day, however,
an expression of growing anxiety was on her face
as she listened to the news that her husband was
telling. He stood on the step below her, lifting his
hat rather wearily from the dark hair now streaked
with gray, and wiping his brow with his handker-
chief. He had just returned from a walk to the
mill. All their horses, but one very old one, had
been seized for service by the Southern army in
their various raids to and fro over the country, and
the cows, with the exception of two young heifers,
had been taken for food by the same rapacious
hosts. Their neighbors were no better off than
they in this respect, for their homes all lay in that
part of the country so frequently fought over by
the contending armies, and the inhabitants were

1864. 89

 

called on for supplies by both friend and foe.
True to their belief that the teachings of Christ
were for peace alone, and that His followers could
take no part in the struggle then tearing asunder
this fair country, no truly convinced Friend, either
in the North or South, had joined the army; and
we may say here, that as far as possible, both of
the military governments provided exceptional
acts by which this people might adhere to their
principles. In the summer of 1862, a Conseription
act was passed in the Confederate Congress re-

iri tween eighteen and thirty-
quiring every man between eighteen a j

five years of age to enter the army. In 1863 these
limits were extended to eighteen and forty-five,
and the next year to fifty years, but at this date
the scarcity of men in the Southern army was
such that all able bodied men were drafted, no
matter what might be their age, and James Hay-
dock felt that he might be called on any day to
render service to the government which he could
not conscientiously perform.

“They told me at the mill to-day, Frances,
that the soldiers had been there, and because the
Miller would not reveal the hiding place of his
three sons, they hung him up three times almost

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

90 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

to the point of strangulation. Josiah Barker, who
ownes the mill, and lives close by, hearing the
screams of the Miller’s wife, came out and they
seized him, asking him.the same questions as they
had asked the Miller.”

“Oh, what did he do?” asked Frances.

“Stood his ground, thank God,” replied her
husband. “In fact he did not know where the
boys were, and simply said so, but when the sol-
diers put the rope round his neck and proceeded
to tighten it over a beam in the barn, he did not
flinch or beg for merey. They told him the
Quakers by keeping so many men out of the
army were causing the, defeat of the South, said
he had but five minutes to live, and if he had any
prayers to offer, to say them quickly.”

“What respect had they for prayers?” queried
Frances Haydock, slightly smiling, as her hus-
band paused and set down on the step, leaning
back among the shining green of the Lady
Banksia rose, and looking up at her with glow-
ing eyes.

“Some traditionary reverence, doubtless;
Southerners are no more brutes than Northerners,
but they are driven into more desperate straits

1864. 91

 

just now, and war ever brings unreasoning cru-
elty in its train, especially when homes are de-
sizvived and families broken up. The North-
erners know little of this in reality. Well, to go
on, Barker said he was innocent, and had no more
to say than ‘ Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do.” And I think our Father
stopped them, for they removed the rope fom his
neck and flung him on one side, telling him not
to look up or he would be shot, and in trerchs so
stunned was he, that looking up was impossible ;
he heard, as in a dream, the fellows hanging the
poor Miller up until he was nearly strangled ;
then they left the place, thr satening ~ rebarts,
but our Master sent them in another direction,

1 ack. They f one of
for they did not come back. They found

the missing conscripts, whom they hung till

dead.” es
“Probably they think discipline must be
maintained,” Frances Haydock remarked.
“ Aye, but what discipline is enforced in the

i ‘balanced by the license
army is more than counterbalanced by t

i ry the } at strict rule
flooding the country the moment that strict

is relaxed,” said her husband, “ how much better
- b

the control taught by the Prince of Peace !”

aaa

tie eee RAAT

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY,

 

Merry voices were heard at this moment,

and Molly and John appeared coming up the
avenue. The pale gold of the sunset still shone

through the far arch of overhanging live-oaks,

and outlined the children’s figures with clear dis-
tinctness. John carried in his hand a pail half
full of foaming milk.

“Mother,” he said as they neared the porch,
“Molly and I have found such a beautiful place
for the heifers to sleep in, they will not miss the
barn at all now.”

“They would hardly miss it at any rate this
warm weather, my boy?” said his father, smiling
at the two as they sat down beside him.

“No, I suppose not,” answered John, “ but
thee knows that thick clump of alderbushes in
the lower meadow ?”

“Yes,” said James Haydock.

“Well, there is an open space right in the
middle of it, Molly and I cut off a few branches,
twisted the rest in and out, and spread a lot of
dead leaves over the ground, and the heifers went
right in and lay down there. Close by the open-
ing is a dead tree with a jessamine growing over
it and hanging down, so every sign of an entrance

93
1864. : :

 

is hidden, and I think it would soni see Leh
gle the soldiers to find the cows. They may _
the barn over now, we will keep our vas a
“Tt is quite a distance from the ~~ r
marked Molly, “and we must milk them early =
morning and late in the evening or some one W1
Pa
ee wt seems the only way to do,” anid F eens
Haydock, “I trust no worse trouble is in ne i
bia A sigh followed these words, fo bu a
of future evil seemed gathering over her. . "
friends in the neighborhood had been a *
into the army quite lately, some of cng myers
objection to paying the Exemption wet ge a
avoid engaging in bloodshed ; but aa ne wie
did not feel free to avail page 08 cbr
ad gone with the solaiery, g
of escape and had gone eet eb ieee
refusing to bear arms. vis refusé } ta
what the Exemption Act demanded, or erin
arms, excited much ahaa fig eS ig
ith whom they had to deal, ant 7 aye
vo am was bestowed upon those ee
followers of Him whose teachings are ” ese:
your enemies, and pray for those who despi : :
‘the you.” No loss of life had, however, befalle

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

94 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

those who steadfastly adhered to Christ’s precepts,
and their confidence was strengthened by such
evidence of His protecting power.

James Haydock did not believe in paying the
Exemption tax, and his wife dreaded the possible
attempt to force him to either give up his princi-
ples or suffer for them.

“Come Molly, we must put the milk away,”
said her mother. The girl lingered under the
-aressing hand of her father as he stroked the dark
braids of hair in which Molly had twisted a spray
of the yellow Southern jessamine. She had in-
herited James Haydock’s ebon hair and brows,
but the large black eyes were very unlike his dark
blue ones, and had a steadfastness in their depth
derived from her grandfather rather than from
her father’s impetuous nature; this impetuosity,
however, was now steadied by strong principle
and an earnest love for the Lord, his Master.

“T will take it in, mother,” said John, spring-
ing up and lifting the pail. “Molly did nearly
all the milking to-night.” This child was like
his mother; he was merry, full of fun, always
talking cheerfully, always fresh and sweet, like
the little brook running through the cellar in

1864. ‘ 95

whose cool flow the milk was now soon deposited,
the creamy liquid filling to the brim two shallow
pans, and was then left to gather an added rich-
ness in the darkness and solitude of its under-
ground habitation. Thus it is with some human
characters: shut them away from the bustle and
light of the outside world, and all eet is best: tn
their natures will be brought to the surface ; while,

with others of this curiously mixed creation of

i i sunshine ¢ ‘ree air is needed
our’s, all possible sunshine and free

to develop the sweetness and bloom so delightful

to find in a work-a-day world. .

In giving an account of the experiences of
Friends throughout the South during the civil war,
our story almost unavoidably assumes the _ of
a ieligions controversy. And although it is as far as
possible from our purpose to arouse any antagon-

ism in the many truly earnest Christians who hold
different views from those maintained by the Quak-
ers, we cannot but put these views, and the stead-

fast trust with which they were carried out, in the

strongest possible light. They were a vital matter
with this people, and any trivial handling of the
supject would fail to give a true Impression of the

feeling existing among them. We rejoice in the

ane

SCO a RRR SAA RT te

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

96 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

clear light of to-day, after twenty-five years have
been added to our national history, that many in
all Christian denominations are beginning to see
the wickedness of war, and to take their stand with
the sect which has ever borne testimony against
it, suffering almost unto the giving up of life, as
many years before that time the Friends had also
suffered indignity and hardship for their belief
in the freedom of all mankind.

The next morning a Confederate officer rode
up to the Haydock’s dwelling, and with a cour-
teous bow handed a folded paper to Frances Hay-
dock who came forward to ask what his errand
might be. She took it with a sinking heart and
carried it to her husband. He opened the paper
and read it slowly, while his wife leaned over his
shoulder and read likewise. It was an order to
report at Richmond for military service, or else to
pay the Exemption tax, before the next three
days had passed.

James Haydock leaned back and looked up
at his wife; her face was white, and a pleading
look was in her soft brown eyes; she stroked the
wavy locks on his forehead with the same caress-
ing touch as of yore.

97
1864.

1 ot pay ax { stay
“James, will thee not pay the tax and

with us?” she asked. ‘
“ Would thee have me do so?” he said, look-

ing lovingly at her.
“Many of our Friends have done s0, she

responded.
is thy own feeling about
“T know, but what is thy own feeling

it?” her husband persisted.
“Oh James, I cannot let thee go,” Frances

; ehh i laa:
exclaimed, coming round in front of het husban
hd : * ¢ ~ =] 1 € > Ss >
who, rising, took her in his strong arms 10 a ¢ lose
i rhile telli sy how inexpress-
embrace, which, while telling her h I
ibly hard it would be to leave her, in some man-

; Aaa] ay
ner conveyed to her so clear an impression of the

e “— xy served
strength and power of the Master they both serve
that she was calmed and comforted.

“T want us to see eye to eye In this matter,

‘ife,” James Haydock said.
Frances, my wife,” James Hay dock sé

; re ie ar:
“ We always have, James,” she replied, “and

I will not fail thee now. But, oh, when will this

. 2 rer ¢ ‘ ‘) untry at yeace
horrible struggle be over and our country ab}

once more?”
“In the Lord’s own time, Frances.

es those who trust in Him, not one of our

He never

forsak
Et
Friends have lost their lives.
(7)

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“

No, but they have suffered. Oh, James, it

is terrible. In three short days to have thee go to

we know not where.”

“* He is able to save, even unto the utter-
most.’ ”

Horses’ hoofs on the sandy road outside at
this moment attracted James Haydock’s attention.

“Frances, it is neighbor Gordon and his son
Rosco.”

“T cannot see them just now, James.”

“T will take care of them then and excuse
thee for the present,” said James Haydock going

forward to welcome his guests with his usual quiet
grace and dignity, while Frances entered her own
room and shut herself into the presence of the

Comforter to whom she was used to carry all her
griefs and perplexities.

Mr. Gordon, to whom we are now introduced,
had moved with his family into Jeremiah Allen’s
old house some years before, and had formed a
very warm friendship with the Haydocks. Rosco,
their only son, had been educated at the North,
but when the war broke out he had been forced
to return from college just before he graduated.

~ He was now twenty-two years old, and during

99
rT864. °

 

these two years at home he had formed a warm
friendship with Molly Haydock, who, on aig?
much enjoyed the cultivated companionship ©
young Gordon. Carefully guided in ee ye
by her father, Molly had learned 4 gore dea -
is not usually included in a girl’s education,
although she had missed some of the lighter ac-
complishments.

om Gordon had served a year in the Southern
army, had been wounded, and was now — <
further service. For some unknown reason Rosso
was not as yet drafted, and his frequent aanocia-
tion with James Haydock had so far convinosd
him of the evil of war, that he had cain ne
willing to volunteer his servions to a bas
With perhaps a keener observation than his . cf ;
Rosco Gordon perceived the shade that had fallen
over the usually serene face of his host. 3

“You are in trouble, Mr. Haydock?” he
asked respectfully. “Is any one ill ie

“No one, Rosco,” James Haydock replied,

9»)

“but trial has come to us In common with our

ia
i f ays I must go to Rich-
neighbors and in three days I must g

”
mond.
ah » this. Mr. Hay-
“Tam awfully sorry to hear this, M J

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

100 THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY,

 

dock,” said the older Gordon. “ Why don’t you
pay the Exemption tax and stay at home?”

“T cannot feel easy to do that,” replied James
Haydock, “ although many of our Friends have,
it seems to me like assisting in a strife that is al-
together opposed to our Lord’s t sachings ?”

“TI do not see why you have to look at it in
that way. Why the money goes for provision, for
blankets, for tobacco, for quantities of things that
don’t hurt anybody, but do them good. Come
here, Miss Molly, good-morning to you,” as the
girl entered the room, “your good father thinks
he must leave you, and I want you to help me
persuade him it is all nonsense.”

“You will not do that, I think,” said Molly,
gravely. She usually dropped the Friend’s lan-
guage of “thee” and “thou” when talking with
members of other denominations.

“You don’t want him to go, do you, Miss
Molly?” pursued Mr. Gordon.

“TI would give all I have in the world to pre-
vent it! What shall we do without him?” the

girl exclaimed vehemently, raising her eyes to
meet those of Rosco Gordon’s fixed on her with
earnest sympathy ; the bright sunshine lying on

101
1864.

 

the polished floor seemed to throw upward a ne
that kindled a glowing spark in the light haze
eye of the young man. ee

“(Can we do nothing to keep Mr. Haydock ¢
home?” he asked.

“He shall not go,” asseverated Molly.

“The soldiers will take me I fear, Molly,
whether I wish to go or not,” said her father, ten-
derly regarding her. eae

“Qh, and what will they do to thie t :
exclaimed in distress, rising and walking to =
window. Rosco followed, but she pie ress es
talk nor listen to his attempts at iat i
after Mr. Gordon had urged James Haydoe K a
ail himself of the loop-hole offered y
Act, the visitors mounted their
Just before leaving, old

more, to av
the Exemption
horses and rode away.
Mr. Gordon whispered to Molly: oe

“We will pay the tax for your father, my

i in spite of himself.”
dear, and keep him here in spite of himse .

ait y allow it. ou

“Thank you; he w ould not a van
. . on ” o 36 sadly.

are very kind, but 1t 1s no use, Molly said sadly
Rosco looked back as long as he dared, only
ficure leaning against the pillar of

5

to see the girl’s
the porch, her hand over her eyes.

Pa NE atime

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS? TESTIMONY,

 

CHAPTER IX.

GOOD BYE.

Sad and dreary were the days that followed.
Frances was busy looking over her husband’s

clothing, preparing for an absence of she knew

not how long duration. These preparations

were much more scanty than they would have
been two years before. Two years of separation

from their best source of supply, the northern

cities, two years of desolated crops and ravaged
stock yards, had left but little to live upon, and
although James had invested funds in the north,
at present they were unavailable.

Frances Haydock had always kept a good
stock of linen on hand, but constant appeals from
needy neighbors had rapidly reduce

The old spinning wheel was put into requisition

d this supply.

again, and both mother and daughter spent many
an hour in spinning the cotton they were fortu-
nately still able to procure.

Molly knew of an old chest in the loft, full of

oe 103
GOOD BYE. a

 

See ee ilk
Jed garments of worsted and s
moth-eaten and faded garments

brocade ; many a time as a child she had —
over the ancient costumes, and now tid a
quently suggested themselves to pe — “ _
resource should all other supplies fail. be ; ‘
Haydock occupies himself in making tie =
rangment for his wife’s comfort vine ” ere
away, and told John how to provide woot

i rops xy might be
winter and gather mm what crops they mig
» 2

able to save. He said but little of a —
absence to Frances, for she constantly ge”
a hope that the end of the war might a : cag
distant and then their troubles would " gk
at least this worst trouble of all, separation ‘i ‘
Very tender was his manner towart
' Molly was rest-
all work

one another.
his wife during these three days. :
relievi or mother 0
lessly bent on relieving he sige iis
E ; sbe s side, ¢
that might keep her from her husban¢ 3
in = ras she
i - cast many a loving look at her as
her father cast many ' ‘
se é rarden.
silently went about the house and gal ee
i it, f » dear,” the girl sa
“T cannot help it, father dear, the gir
bs 7
} Ty " der
lay as he laid his hand on her shoulder,
one day as sb amapabe na
+ let me control my feelings as best I cé
“thee must let me j igh a6 45
It is like death to have thee go away, anc
is » dee

than death to think of what thee must suffer.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

James Haydock put his arm around her and
she sobbed on his shoulder.

“Thee will be thy mother’s great dependence,
Molly. John is but young and boyish, though he
does his best; I thank God daily for my daughter
Molly.” The girl raised her head and looked up
at him steadily; there always had been between
them a peculiar bond of love and confidence.

“T will do all I can to cheer mother,” she
said simply, “now I must go for the milk,” and
the bright young maiden, anxious to hide her sor-
row, ran out to seek the cows in their distant pas-
ture. The two heifers came to meet her and
greeted her lovingly, as she crept through the bro-
ken fence. John had not put up any bars, lest the
signs of care should attract the marauder’s eyes,
and cause him to search in that lonely spot for
things worth hiding. The rich thick grass sent
up a damp pleasant smell, the crickets chirped
softly, creeping forth from their shady houses,
night was their time to enjoy themselves and hold
communion with the little stars just beginning to
twinkle faintly, but cheerily in the darkening
sky. The cow’s warm breath, sweet with feeding
on the leaves and twigs of the spice-wood, mingled

GOOD BYE. 105

 

 

i ; y as she
with the cool air and enveloped Molly as st

c ‘ the place rested
milked; the profound repose of the place rest

and quieted her. ye
ilki yas over, as $ rove the heli-
After milking was over, as she drove t

ers to the sheltering clump of alder bushes and
", =] ; Aae ; oO
stooped to pick a branch of the odorous jesamine,

cf as only southern
two huge bats, black and ugly as only

TC as “ee, al-

bats are, flew suddenly out from the dead tive,
i ’ face wi heir wings
most brushing Molly’s face W ith their wings,

i xr head; she
and flapped noiselessly about her head;

ed slightly and taking up her pailful of

scream
She was

milk, hurridly sped toward the fence. .
" oF poet
the figure of a man standing by the

startled to see
a moment her

: ‘ough; for
opening she had come through ;

insts 3 "ACOO=
heart stood still, but the next instant she recog

nized Rosco Gordon
great that she leaned her he
post and burst into tears. :

“ Miss Haydock, Molly,” the young man eXx-
: “have I startled you? What

and the feeling of relief was so
ad against a mossy

claimed in dismay,
99)

is the matter?

“ Nothing, exc |

I thought it was a soldier, and, oh,

I was frightened.”

ept I am so glad it is you and

nobody else.

I am not myself just now;
Molly dried her eyes and crept through the

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

106 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

fence, resigning the milk-pail into Rosco’s hands,

“Do you think it is safe for you to come here
so late alone?” asked the youth.

“It is safe for the cows,” replied Molly, smil-
ing a little; the reaction from her fright overcom-
ing other feelings for the moment.

“Doubtless, but you are of more importance
than the cows,” he rejoined.

“T donot know that Iam. Ic an do so little,

My consequence has dwindled very much |

ately
in my own eyes.”

“But not in the eyes of others,

perhaps,”
Rosco replied.

“At any rate let me either milk
the cows in the future, or come with you; there

are too many soldiers and runaw: LYS NOW lurking

round the country for you to be alone so far from
the house.”

“John usually comes with me, but he was

busy with something else to-night. - Will you come

in?” she asked as they neared the house.

“Not now, thank you. What time does Mr.
Haydock leave to-morrow?”

“Oh, I don’t know, don’t ask me,” Molly ex-

claimed, all her miser y returning with overwhelm-
ing force,

: 107
GOOD BYE. :

 

i Y o recall your
“Do forgive me, I did not mean to recal) |
aie SD
trouble; I was very thoughtless. ee
yood-night!
“No matter ; it must come soon. Good-1
P ging her
The girl forgot to thank him for bring cir
> hastily
home, and left the milk in his hands as she hastily
sea house. He hesitated a
sought the shelter of the hou eat .
1, W
moment, and then gave the milk to Jo
i i ¢ r the ming
was at the door, bringing 1n wood for the morning
— '

fire. i
ilk 20WS | rere 1S
“ Halloo, did you milk the cows?
folly ?” ejaculated the boy.
gigs : ight,” said Rosco, de-
“Tn the house. Good-night,” sé
4 hering darkness.
parting into the rapidly gat
f Molly,” soliloquised John as
“Very queer 0

lon begins milk-
,milk. “ If Gore
he carried in the m

9”
» next?!
ing the cows , | wonder w hat he will de

sw dried
the early dew «
The ita ints morning as

awa ror he rass. ( h hand e old-
y from the gra , and the ds of th LC

; » progress to-
fashioned clock ticked their deliberate p

> ypeared
ward noon, a band of gray clad soldiers appeé

i o the Haydock
venue leading to
coming up the avent

> of
homestead; they halted at the porch and one ¢

ther 1, 217 il £ y t 1e € ptain, li me unte | an
€ ca aismo >¢ a d
T seel

» hearts
t up the steps, bringing dismay to the
wen

7) K k,
of Frances Haydock and her daughter. A knoe

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

108 THE HA VDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

neither gentle nor hesitating, was answered by
James Haydock himself.

“You're Mr. Haydock, I take it?” said the sol-
dier, bowing with some politeness of manner as
the tall dignified figure confronted him.

“That is my name,” was the reply.

“Well, sir, I’m sorry to say it, but you must
shoulder your musket and come with us to Rich-
mond at once. We have a horse r ady for you.”

“I will accompany thee, but I can neither
take arms nor engage in army service,” said
James Haydock.

“TI suppose you’re a Quaker,” said the Con-
federate officer. “Well, you'll just have to put
your objections in your pocket now, and join the
service like every other decent man has to. Here
is your horse, sir. Have you any traps?”

Frances Haydock brought out the small
bundle she had prepared for her husband; there

was no emotion that threatened to overcome her

just now, but a wonderfully calm and uplifted
feeling. It had been with her since their morn-
ing waiting before the Lord, when they had given

themselves to His all powerful protection, and felt
His almost visible presence.

. 109
GOOD BYE. ae

 

i se | ,, sir, here’s
“Tom bring up that horse; now, Sir,
your musket; take it if you please. mons
» horse, b e
James Haydock mounted the horse, bu
musket remained untouched.
| it?” exclame e cap-
“Why don’t you take it?” exclamed t . .
; i vaste on’t
tain. “Come, we have no time to waste.
ain. oe 2 een ar you are
you mean to shoulder it? Remember }
J .
under orders now.
ders fa higher captain
“T am under orders, but of a hig eae
snowledges. é tells
than this world generally acknowledge ee
} 4 sobey His
me not to shed blood, and I cannot di )
”
commands. ee Pa
se,’ atiently re
“ A]l confounded nonsense, ae ,
“ Oti é ighty sorry
sponded the captain. “ Still, I am might) :
ia i s family grouper
for vou all,” he said looking at the family grou}
haat i lly’s arm around her
in silence on the piazza, Mollys € ng
. ¢ ar f loo red as 1
mother’s waist, who, however, hardly . :
) , 3 r rather impar
she needed support, but would ratl ” ;
g » eyes flashed, anc
strength to others. John’s blue eyes fl eu
‘ i rhic > had jus
ith which he had ;
‘rasped the hatchet with .
afer i lutch indicating he
ing wood with a clutc
been cutting digi paints
ld like to use it on different mé
woul
cedar and light pine. A ae
“Qan’t you pay the Exemption fee and § . '
I 9” asked the officer. “I'll take that gladly.
rome?” as

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

“Thanks for the willingness, but I do not feel
easy to do it; it all comes to the same thing,” was
the response.

“I don’t see that; but if you won’t pay, just
take your musket and come along.”

Still the musket was not accepted. For a
moment the captain looked bewildered; then he
burst forth with an oath, “Do you dare to defy
me? Don’t you know I’m here to be obeyed?
Tom, take that musket and tie it across the saint’s
back ; tight, mind you.”

This order was obeyed. Molly’s eyes grew
indignant as she saw her father wince involun-
tarily under the rough handling and the tight
twist of the rope, but he said nothing and sat on
the horse looking calmly, rather sorrowfully, at
the officer, who regarded him angrily ; seeing he
made no resistance, however, the angry look
slowly gave place to a puzzled one, then he spoke.

“Tom, you may take that gun off and tie it
on the horse. I'll leave the authorities at Rich-
mond to deal with him. They will not be so easy
with you as I am, confound you,” his anger rising
again, as he shook his horse’s reins, “forward, we
have wasted time enough here.”

GOOD BYE. ; 111

 

, sband; he
Frances had come near to her husband ;

bent toward her with a smile.

g ion’s mouth this
“ Frances, He has shut the lion’s

time.” ,
ill it again, James. He

“Yes, and He will do it again,

and with us,” was her reply, anc

ip a ra
will be with thee ye

ider red 1 ine
then the horse and rider moved in li

‘ the leader
others, and following the command of the leader,
8, a

' sig 7 » sandy road.
passed out of sight down the }

i ae for a little
“ Molly ill go to my room
Pyedeticn last sound

while,” said Frances Haydock when the
>

i vay. “Call me
i is he od away. “Cal
of the trampling hoofs had died awa)

”
if thee wants me.

sar,” sai lly. “I will see to
“Go, mother dear, said Molly

iting we shall do to-day,

i such its little e
ner: though its lit
- 4 ath, then turn-

: , » her bre
I fancy,” she added under he

ing suddenly away,
“Oh, father, father, rey

” She sat down on the porch step,

remained

why could not I take this

in thy place?

eri sr face
and with her hands covering her fe
g

motionless a long while.

i and maybe
y f he fire up, and may
“Molly, I have made the Pp,

hi . sta ¢ sk
.e¢ or something ; let’s as
er WC sat an egg or SO
mother would ee f
her.” said John, quie

der. She looked up,

. i eh oe ‘a
tly touching his sister’s shou

REE LIL RS POD TE,

may

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

112 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

“ John, thee is worth twice as much as I am.
Mother ought to eat something. I will go and ask
her. After all the war must end soon, every one
says so,and father will be taken care of,” and
Molly jumped up, hope spreading its brightness
again over her young face, and renewing the cour-
age that in young and energetic natures is never
long absent. Molly was both sanguine and stead-
fast, though her intense, almost tragic way of look-
ing at life made her less lively than her brother
John, who had inherited more of his mother’s
buoyant temperament.

In the evening Mr. Gordon and his son rode
over to see the Haydocks.

“We were just coming here this morning
when we met the soldiers, Mrs. Haydock, and we
thought you would rather be alone a while,” said
Mr. Gordon. “We'll have your husband home
again soon and nota hair of his head touchea.
There are ways of getting him back. I am going
to Richmond myself to-morrow; but Ill say no
more now. Keep a good heart, madam. Things
will be all right.”

“Tam very sure of that,” replied Frances, a
faint smile passing over her pale face.

IN CAMP.

 

CHAPTER X.
IN CAMP.

Long and weary for James Haydock was the
journey to Richmond. At first the soldiers taunted
and annoyed him in every possible way, but the
gentleness with which this treatment was received
and the various little helpful actions performed by
him whenever opportunity offered, at last won the
tolerance, if not the regard, of his companions;
and when he went with the captain to report at
Richmond to the authorities who were to decide
into which regiment he was to be detailed, there

was no attempt made to prejudice the officers

against him; in fact, another offer was made,

even urged upon him, of obtaining immunity
from service by paying the Exemption tax. This
was, however, distinctly refused and the officer in
authority ordered him to be placed in the ——
regiment and sent to Petersburg, Virginia. It
was at this place that the mining and countermin-

ing of the Northern and Southern forces ended
(8)

TS SE SRP Rh OT IRI

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

114 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

 

later in a scene of such awful destruction that the
name of Fort Hell was given to one of the fortifi-
cations.

“May I send a letter home to my family?”
he asked, as, hand-cuffed for disobedience to the
order to carry arms, he was led from the dingy
little office where he had been undergoing exam-
ination.

“There is no objection, if you can get anyone
to write and carry it for you; you will remain
hand-cuffed till further orders, unless you agree to
do your part as an honest man should,” was the
rather surly reply.

“T will write it for you,” said one of the sol-
diers who had accompanied him to Richmond,
“but I don’t know who will carry it.”

“Whar yere frum, Massa?” asked a young
negro boy who had been leaning against the door
of the recruiting office while the examination was
going on, and who now approached James Hay-
dock’s side. The information asked for haying
been given, he pondered a moment or two, and
then said, speaking low:

“T reckon I kin get it tuk fo’ yere if yere
won't make no mention of it to ony pussun.

IN CAMP. 115

 

Reckon some folks be agoin’ tro’ dat way sum
time, but dey won’t want nothin’ said ’bout it, no-
now.” So in the station from which James Hay-
dock was to take the train to Petersburg, a few
dictated lines were written and given to the negro
boy, to be sent by unknown hands to the dear
ones at home.

Although more than a year had now passed
since the slaves had been proclaimed free, many

of them were still coming from the far South and

passing the lines of the contending armies with

more or less difficulty, according to the part of the
country they travelled through. Sometimes they
were detained and questioned, and sometimes
they were not, but allowed to go almost as un-
heeded as dusky birds of passage. Wherever
they went, however, the Quakers befriended them,
and any one who wore the distinctive dress of this
sect claimed gratitude from the negro. Thus it
was that James Haydock was enabled to send
back to his family news of himself, that could
hardly have been taken in any other manner.
The journey in the crowded uncomfortable
cars, wherein few seats were allowed, and those
only plain benches without backs, was soon over,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

116 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

and the soldiers marched to an encampment from
whence the distant lines of the Northern army
could be seen. No engagement was anticipated
for two or three days, as the attacking force was
supposed to be small, and Petersburg with its
fresh reinforcements was fairly well protected.
The repeated and steady refusal of James
Haydock to join the daily drill had so exaspera-
ted his officers that orders were issued to place
him in the front ranks, should a battle take place,
and let him be shot down as a punishment for
insubordination. The colonel of the regiment,
however, being really a man of kindly disposi-
tion, felt inclined to make another effort to bring
“ Haydock to his senses,” as he expressed it. On
the evening of the second day in camp, he left his
tent and sauntered down to where the soldiers
were lounging round the camp-fires. James Hay-
dock was sitting a little apart, leaning against a
large oak tree. The lovely hills encircling the
city were growing more shadowy as the evening
glow faded, and a blue haze crept up from the
valley; a few stars were visible and nature at
least was peaceful and calm. James Haydock
held his Bible loosely in his hand, (they had un-

IN CAMP. 117

 

fettered him, seeing his quiet behavior) and his

eyes were fixed steadily on the far off mountains

whose repose was so absolute.

“ Good-evening, Haydock,” said Colonel Pres-
ton, “don’t you think you had better throw that
book away and fight your own way through like
aman? Don’t get up; I want to talk to you.”

“ J think this book is more likely to help than
to hinder me in the fight I am making,” replied
James Haydock, smiling as he made room on his
blanket for Colonel Preston to find a place beside
him.

“Do you really think your Lord is going to
protect you when the battle comes on v

“ T have never known a case where our Mas-
ter failed His believing children,” was the ready
response.

“Pshaw; do you know you are to be put in
the front ranks and be made a mark for the first
fire?”

“Somebody will have to go into the front
ranks, and I would rather trust to God’s protec-
tion in such a situation than to one musket among
several hundreds. Christ has said that they that

trust in Him need never be afraid ; surely He can

RF LP Re ISI

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

118 THE HAYVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

save now from death as well as eighteen hundred
years ago.”

“JT don’t know much about your God; but I
know that nothing short of a miracle can save
you in a battle, if unarmed.”

“T quite believe that.”

“Surely you are not such a fool as to believe
in miracles, are you?”

“May I ask thee another question before I
answer ?” queried James Haydock.

“Certainly, I have nothing to do just now
and am very willing to hear you talk,” said Col-
onel Preston, settling himself comfortably against
the oak tree. Several of the younger officers, see-
ing their colonel address James Haydock, had
drawn near, and were now standing around the
principal speakers.

Many were the discussions indulged in dur-
ing these idle waiting hours, and very often the
subjects pitched upon were of a serious nature; a
fact that perhaps might be accounted for by the
nearness to danger, and the knowledge that
twenty-four hours or less might bring the next
world very close to some of them.

“ Ask what you please, I don’t say I will al-
ways answer, however,” the colonel went on.

IN CAMP. I 19

 

“ Does thee believe the Bible?” asked James

Haydock. a
“Oh, yes, in a way; some parts of it;

I
doubt its inspiration, but its moral teaching 1s
I read lately a paper by a

certainly good. .
in which he

2nd
Unitarian clergyman, of Boston,
‘The Bible is a book of many mistakes, but

said
them,’ I think that is about my

we do not mind
position.” fs

“*A book of many mistakes, repeated
James Haydock, rather slowly, “ and thee is will-
knowledge of a future life to a

ing to trust thy
ion I do not think I

“otalac ?
book that has many mistakes‘ :
would take such a book as a guide in questions of

Milnes Fears esi
law or medicine, still less for life. But granting
é

nee ils ee “ie. does thee believe
thy position that parts are true, doe

that there is a God, or Creator of the world
“Yes, I believe there is a God, though nature

S,
said Colonel Preston, an-

“but miracles

9”

is good enough for me,
swering the note of interrogation, /
do not happen; that is exploded long ago.

“They do not happen, I admit, they are al-
direct action of a Supreme

rays the intentional
Why does thee

power, which has anend in view.

: © 9)
not believe in them?

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS) TESTIMONY.

 

“ Because they are contrary to nature.”

“Can any one give the dictionary meaning of
amiracle?” asked James Haydock.

The chaplain of the regiment, who was
stretched out on the ground near the colonel’s
feet, pulled a little dictionary out of his breast
pocket and read slowly by the fading light:

“Miracle, an event or effect contrary to the
established course of things; a deviation from the
known laws of nature.”

He replaced the volume in his pocket. James
Haydock spoke.

“Miracles are not to be believed in because
they are exactly what they are defined to be.” A
suppressed laugh went round the circle of listeners
and Colonel Preston looked foolish.

“How do you know such a thing asa miracle
ever existed?” he retorted, pulling himself to-
gether again.

“Can we define a thing that never existed?”

“Things often exist simply in the imagina-
tion; any one knows that.”

“A combination of things or circumstances is
often conjured up by the imagination; but to

carry the question back a little further, can you

IN CAMP. 121

 

even imagine anything that absolutely never was
seen or heard of?”

“T don’t suppose you could, unless it was
suggested to man by an intelligence superior to
his own, a mind knowing something he did not,”
replied the colonel. He was beginning to be
interested ; for he was an educated man, and liked
to meet an opponent worth arguing with, as he
now recognized this Quaker to be.

“ Ah, thee has touched the idea of revelation,
a wide subject,” said James Haydock.

“But to return to miracles;” said Colonel
Preston, “why should the supreme intelligence
that made the laws of nature, erratically suspend
them? It would bring everything into confusion.”

“That is the old theologian’s idea, and incor-
rect, I think. Have we any proof that they are
suspended? Does a bird when he flies upward

suspend the laws of gravitation? I think he

simply exerts a power that is superior, and over-
comes it.”
“T gee your point, Mr. Haydock, said the

colonel. “You think the ordinary forces are

: ta
overcome by extraordinary ones.
“J would like to see a miracle,” said one of

 

2 ee Hee

(eet

abs

VaR,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

122 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

the younger officers. “Then one might believe
in them.”

“Exactly,” responded James Haydock smil-
ing, “and every generation would require a mira-
cle to be performed for its belief, till raising of the
dead and opening the eyes of the blind would be-
come so common as to be no miracle at all. The
next generation would no more believe your re-
cord than you believe the ancient testimony.”

“Hume says,” remarked a thoughtful-look-
ing, keen-eyed man, sitting on a knapsack near
by, “that ‘a miracle supported by any human tes-
timony is more a subject of derision than of argu-
ment.’”

“*Human testimony,’” muttered the chap-
lain under his breath, “ would he admit superhu-
man, I wonder? Hume himself says he never
read the New Testament through.”

“ He also says,” replied James Haydock, “‘I
own that there may possibly be miracles of such
a kind as to admit of proofs from human testi-
mony, and then tries to do away with his own
admissions by saying, ‘but should such a miracle
be ascribed to a new system of religion, men of
all ages have been so imposed on by ridiculous

123

IN CAMP.

 

j ; ‘4 nj} ’ ‘ if nce
stories of that kind that this very circumsta

P 7 ‘ >”?
would be full proof of the cheat.
“You have a very good memory, Mr. Hay-
dock,” said the colonel, a little sarcastically.
or W ye are
“J think we usually remember what we

interested in,” was the reply.
“ Other religions thé

7 1 tT ¢ ae} ’

miracles; Mohammed for instance,

un Christ’s have claimed

’ suggested the

chaplain.
“Miracles have
hammed claimed none, “ia
soy rare ik r r Oo
publicly ; his night-visions were known na
heats wis! 4 7 swear to them.
i f; his ‘ers would not sv
himself; his follow igi
Christ’s miracles were done openty, nob * “i
ze is m
ner’ but before thousands. The religion
as inaugurated by mir
ns and wonders

been claimed for them; Mo-

nor were any ever shown

in a cor-

hed w acles, and God
preachec

i itness bo “ith sig
bore him ‘witness both wit g

and divers miracles.’ It is one thing ad a
an unbeliever to try @ religion by its miracles, ro
quite another to ask a believer to accept them as
part of a system in which h
is the case with Mohammed. pon ;
ould accept Christ's religion!” The grave

e already believes, as

Oh, my friends, if

you all w sien se
face of the speaker had grown wonderfully earnest.
OC

i -dock,” said a soldier who
“J consider, Mr. Haydock, said aso

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

124 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

had not spoken before, “ that the Bible is not divi
but is really the best outcome of humanity.”

“How then can the fact be accounted for that
it came out ata very poor time of civilization?”
was the answer, upon which the soldier concluded
to go and attend to the camp fire, which seemed to
need more wood.

“You don’t answer my idea about the stop-

ping, or rather interfering with nature’s laws, Mr.
Haydock,” said Colonel Preston, who had been
silent some time.

“May I illustrate?” asked James Haydock.
“There is a system of water-works now in opera-
tion which is so arranged that the demand regu-
lates the supply ; according to the rapidity of the
discharge at the cock is the r: apidity with which
the pumping-engine works. Then when a fire in
the town subjects the apparatus to a very unusual
ae, a signal in the engine-room, acting automat-
ically, causes the engineer to gear on the reserve
power always ready for use and so even in an emer-
gency there is a provision for ample supply.
Could not a Supreme power, which we must credit
with intelligence, exert a reserve power and yet

infringe none of nature’s laws? Modern science

ine,

or
IN CAMP. 125

 

limits God’s power to the laws displayed in sian
and then asserts that He violates His own laws by
miracle. I deny both positions, and fully beliove
that a miracle is not a violation of law, but 5
only such interference with the established courte
of things as infallibly shows us the presence of a
superior power.”
a ‘, ape things as miracles are contrary to my
experience, and I don’t propose to cay i
them.” remarked a slim young lieutenant, lazily
knocking the ashes out of his pipe. mS
“So the African said when an Englishman
had seen water solid enough to walk

told him he

on.” retorted the keen-eyed man of whom we have

, dock
‘il spoken, then turning to James Hay E
he asked respectfully, aa
i i g esti-
“ Admitting miracles, and, if human

ality is to be
mony in both good quantity and quality

point as it is taken on every other

am, why
subject in the world, we must admit them, why

2m? Could
do you think the Saviour performed them? Cou
and teachings have been estab-

taken on this

not His religion
- ~9?
lished without the miraculous? ee
» 2 » ec
“T suppose it could, and yet as God selec

this way of indicating the Divine authority of His

PETS A

Pes

ee Aeter

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

126 THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

messenger, we must suppose it to be the best way

of showing God’s power. Had this New Testa-
ment, in which many of the Old Testament or
Mosaic laws were done away with, as for instance
‘an eye for an eye,’ was replaced by the law of
love and ‘resist not evil,y—had the New Testa-
ment been sent by simply natural means, the ac-
ceptance of it would probably have been far less
complete. God appealed to the natural senses,
sight, hearing, touch, showing what His power
could accomplish in the physical or natural world,
in order to induce confidence in the spiritual
realms where one can only follow by faith. What
other stronger proof of His power can you sug-
gest ?”

“T do not know; all nature is full of wonders,
and yet they do not seem to impress us with any
special belief in God.”

“True enough ; they are so common that we
get used to them; the mind needs to be startled
to be impressed ; we need something out of the
established order of things to quicken our percep-
tions.”

“We shall see something out of the estab-
lished course of thing if you come out scot-free in.

IN CAMP.

 

the next battle. It will fix the fate of a lot of us.
I wish you all success and safety in your faith, Mr.
Haydock,” said the slim young officer to whose
experience miracles were contrary, “it seems all
foolishness to me.”

“T know—‘to the Greek, foolishness; to the
Jews, a stumbling block’—but unto them which
are called, Christ the power of God. ‘I know
whom I have believed,’ ‘and as we are ambassadors
for Christ as though God did beseech you by
us, we pray you in Christ’s stead be ye reconciled
to God.’” In his earnestness, James Haydock had
risen and was standing with bared head under
the wide-spreading oak branches, whose leaves
were slightly moved by the night wind ; the a
berless tents of the regiment lay quietly, aay
outlined by the uncertain light of the eatmp fires
whose smoke curled up and disappeared in the
cloudy darkness overhead ; no stars were cubird
ible; most of the soldiers had turned in for the

i croup ar o speaker remained
night, and the group around the spee

silent as he continued with uplifted face,
“Who shall separate us from the love of
Christ? ‘Neither death nor life, nor angels, nor

; ,
ings pres r things to come.
powers, nor things present, nor thing

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

128 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

‘Nay, in all these things we are more than con-
querors through Him that loved us.’”

He stopped, and as with one accord the lis-
tening group rose and stood a moment before him
without speaking, the chaplain almost involun-
tarily raised both hands and pronounced a bene-
diction over the uncovered heads, then turned
and sought his tent, followed by the other men;
the Colonel silently shook hands with James Hay-
dock, and left him standing under the tree, where
he lingered a moment listening to the strains of a
negro hymn that floated to him from a far off

corner of the camp.

“My Lord, what a morning,

My Lord, what a morning,

My Lord, what a morning,
When the stars begin to fall.’’

ON SHORT RATIONS.

 

CHAPTER XI.
ON SHORT RATIONS.

“Mother, the corn-meal is nearly gone. We
rday to poor Martha Royal, and
h for ourselves for another day,”
out of the big store closet into’
s Haydock sat spin-

gave some yeste
there is just enoug
said Molly, coming
the living room where France
ning.

“Well, John must take the rest of the corn

to mill to-day on old Dick; it is too heavy for him
no prospect of any

to carry, and then,—there 1s
> her mother said looking up at

more to send,’
Molly, but not seeming discouraged.

“ No, the last set of soldiers who we
ot ride down, for

nt through

here took what corn they did n
fodder for their own horses. There are lots of
potatoes though, and John had just planted peas
for a late crop; the hard work is developing him
’ said Molly with a little laugh. What a
angement it is that sorrow seldom stays
It comes and goes,

finely,’

happy arr

persistently with the young!
(9)

Coe Teer Pe

STEIN

aes

thi

eee

Faz

VaR

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

130 THE HAYVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

and though the “coming” is often overwhelm-
ing and seems endless for the time, the “ going ”
is as certain to follow as the sunrise is to follow
the sunset; and so it was that Frances Haydock
was constantly cheered by her children’s merry
ways, and herself joined with all the brightness
possible in their daily occupations. Her trust in
God kept her calm and restful, though much of
her old light-heartedness had vanished in the ab-
sence of her husband.

The few penciled lines that he sent telling of
his welfare, and saying that he was probably
going to Petersburg, had been left by an old col-
ored man nearly two weeks after the date of his
letter. Molly, to whom the messenger handed it,
left her work of training the vines on the porch
and urged him to come in and rest awhile.

“No, honey” he said, “my people air on de
way to see Mars Lincoln, and ef Jerry gits behin’
no one will eber look out fo’ him. It’s mighty
few ’lations I still has, but I want’s to go along
wid dem; dey know de way, an’ it’s only ’cause
one of yere people was once mighty good to me
dat I ’commodated yere by bringin’ dese few

lines.”

 

ON SHORT RATIONS. 131

 

“Tt was very, very good of you to stop; do

it of sad anyhow,” and Molly ran
take a bit of corn bread anyhow,” and = y re
and made up a parcel of hoe cake

into the house

for the old man. ;
] Faq “J a a a eC
“Tank yere kin’ly, Misse, sech onexpecte

helps cum in mighty well. My little gran'son
[’se carryin’ wid me, was wailin’ fo’ sum dis berry
day. I reckon he gits tired.”
“ Where are you going, uncle? "i
“De good Lord knows, Misse, I don’t; dey "
‘oause I wouldn’t stop behin’.

asked Molly.

jess totin’ me ’long
wee oe
Good evenin’, honey.
1 sATTATs avs ago
This was now several days ago,
an engagement that had

and they

heard vague ‘rumers of

S : efinite news of
taken place at Petersburg, but no de

it had yet reached their ears. .
“Pl tell John about the corn,” said Molly,

arn; she saw her brother
going out toward the barn; she sav

standing
the legs ;
“ Molly, this he ‘
never lays any eggs, I think I’ll kill her.
“ Well, she would make a good stew,” respond-

ed Molly. “She is doing something more than

the creature was screaming wildly.
n does nothing but cluck ; she

.»
cluck now, however.

in the open door holding a big hen by

TATOO:

Fa Oo

ea >

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

132 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

“J wish we could stop the hens clucking any-
how; they make such a lot of noise they’ll bring
the soldiers down on us all, and then no more
hens.”

“Or eggs,” said Molly. “I don’t see though
how we can stop the clucking. We can shut the
hen-house up at night and let them roost any-
where; they are not as easily found by the tramps
then.”

“No, but the wild-cats and the foxes would
have a jolly time.”

“John, do you know that cellar under the
barn? No one would ever know it was there,
especially if we put brush over the entrance. We
could put perches up for the chickens and drive
them in every night.”

“All right. What about the old horse? Put.
him in too?” asked John.

“JT doubt if even the soldiers would want.

him.”

At this instant the hen who had stopped
screaming and was watching John sideways with
a cocked-up head, kicked herself free from his re-
laxed grasp and flew through the barn door up
into the nearly empty hay-mow, scattering feathers

in her flight over Molly’s head.

 

ON SHORT RATIONS.

 

”?

“There goes our stew.
“Never mind, I’ll shoot her when we want
i 4 m. I

r, it is ard work running her dow
her, it is too hard wo g oe
wonder what we shall do for hay next winte

father is not back?” remarked John, changing the

subject and a little ruefully regarding the scantily

filled mow.
“T could he

oan agi
Ip rake the grass if it was cut,

said Molly.
“Tl try what I can do;

being able to get any help.”
aap : il worse off than

“There are people a good dee |
Will thee take the corn now or

but its mighty hard

we are, John.

after dinner?” ea
\ i al 7, going into th
“After dinner,” said the boy, going

stable to feed old Dick, “ think he'll carry me and
the corn too?” he looked sceptically at Dick’s
shaky knees and lean sides ;

rass NOW, No ¢
only fed on hay and grass now,

d him from their scanty store. .
s spinning, crossing

the poor animal was

orn being al-

lowe
After dinner as Molly wa

and re-crossing the room, singing the while, Rosco
‘

Gordon ran up the porch steps and entered the

large room ; Molly greeted him with a smile, but

did not stop her work.

 
 

 

 

THE HAYVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

“ Always busy, Miss Haydock?” he said. “It
makes me feel how lazy I am, to look at you.”

“Is your hay all in?” she asked. “Do sit
down, you need not stand because I do, and I
know you were at the hay all the morning ; John
said so,”

“So we were; we can hire no help and the
work must be done. Is John here?”

“He has taken some corn to the mill to be
ground. Mother is lying down; she does not
sleep very well at night just now and takes a rest
in the day.”

“When did John go?” asked Rosco.

“More than an hour ago. Why?” replied
Molly, startled a little by the tone of anxiety in
Rosco’s question.

“Of course he must wait till the corn is
ground ; he could not return promptly. There is
a company of soldiers about hunting recruits and
he is a well-grown fellow for his age. I think I'll

ride over that way, they may give him trouble;
the mill is a great place for people to stop.”

“Do you really think there is any danger?”
asked Molly, following the young man as he rose
and went out to untie his horse.

ON SHORT RATIONS. A 135

 

“T scarcely can believe so, but there is no
harm in going over. I did not mean to pay you
so short a call,” he added smiling.

“Will you not come back again?” the girl
said.

‘a

“T will certainly, and be only too glad to,” he
replied, mounting his horse and urging him to a

ee oS
gallop.

Molly went back to her spinning wheel fear-
ing she hardly knew what, but pacing steadily

My ; ‘ } ‘ef
back and_ forth over the smooth floor as if the
c m
regular motion was a relief to her troubled
oul
‘ y the r of her mother’s
thoughts. Presently the door of |
room opened; Frances Haydock came out and
sir gas y rca af, y
going to her husband’s desk seated hersc lf be om
it, making rather an anxious search through its
, me
contents.
“Molly,” she said, taking up an old pocket-
' apt ¢ is money in here, did he
book, “father kept all his money 1
not?”
“T think so, mother,” Molly replied.
wake ea

“There are but a hundred dollars left, then,
said her mother, looking into every division of the
Sc =
pocket-book. :

“Well, mother dearie, what do we want with

 
 

 

 

 

 

136 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

the money? There is nothing to buy, and we
have food enough and clothes enough, and fuel
enough in the big swamp anyhow, and lights in
the pine knots if the candles give out as the oil
has,” was the cheery response.

“The candles are not very plentiful now,”
said her mother, “and food may become scarce.
But the war must end soon. We are much favored
to keep well and comfortable.”

“When this cruel war is over,” sang Molly,
“Oh yes, we will do beautifully; in hot weather
one doesn’t want much to eat, and there are lots
of ducks and squirrels in the swamp for autumn.”

“John is very good with his gun,” said Fran-
ces Haydock. “I wonder he has not returned yet.
It is surely time for him to come.”

“Ducks are a legitimate use for guns,” re-
marked Molly, desirous to keep her mother’s
thoughts from John just now. “Here comes a
horse, I think,” and she went to the door followed
by her mother.

“There are two, Molly; oh! what is the mat-
ter, Mr. Gordon is bringing Jolin home before him
on his horse and Rosco is on the other.”

“Tm all right, mother,” shouted the cheery

ON SHORT RATIONS.

 

voice of her son, “only Mr. Gordon would not let

me walk home. Rosco has the meal.

“ Where is old Dick, John,” asked his sister,

much relieved to see the boy jump lightly from the

horse as Mr. Gordon stopped in front of the porch.
“The rascals seized him for a baggage-mule,

and said they would knock him on the head if he

vas no use,” exclaimed John, clenching his hands
d ” @3

as he looked at his mother; she turned to Mr.

Gordon.
“Tt was lucky I was riding by, Mrs. Haydock ;

a company of recruiting officers were there, and

having found but few men were 1n a bad humor.

just as Jc vas coming out with
They came up just as John was g

1 1 > “ce, ??
the meal, and one man laid hands on the horse.

i ir 3a j a
“T told ’em he was no good for their use,” Inter

rupted the boy. a
“And that provoked them; and they saic
he being

they would take the horse and boy too,

such an able-bodied fellow,” said Mr. Gordon.
’
“ And I said I was a Quaker and wouldn’t

fight,” said John. :
” exclaimed his mother.
“ Oh, John, John, exclaimed his m

“Why didn’t thee keep quiet, John,” said

Molly, a half smile on her lips.

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“Of course that was the finishing touch,”

continued Mr. Gordon, “and whe

n I came up they
had John tied to the horse's te

uil and were just
preparing to move off; I was mighty glad that I

had turned up just in time. I had not meant to

go home that way either, but something seemed
to say, ‘ride by the mill) and so I did. The cap-
tain knew me and looked ashamed of himself
when I told him the boy was under age, and I
would make trouble for him if he was taken.

Rosco came galloping along at that minute and.

seeing two staunch Southerners they let John go;
they were pretty sulky about it, however, and

I did not dare interfere about the horse ; they
might have taken the meal if Rosco hadn’t put it
on his horse and walked off before they had time

to notice it. So here we are, and I am very glad,

Mrs. Haydock, to bring your son home safely.”

“T am indeed very thankful,” said Frances
Haydock, “Our Master sent thee to the mill in
time, I feel sure.”

“T will take the meal round to the kitchen
door, Miss Haydock, shall I?” asked Rosco Gordon,
who still sat on his horse with the me¢

il-bag before
him, “John is a little sh

aken by his experience,”

ON SHORT RATIONS. 139

 

In truth the boy did look rather white as he
saton the porch steps. Molly went through the
house and met young Gordon, at the back door.

“You see I came back as you asked me, but
I am sorry not to bring the horse too.”

“Tt is one animal less to care for,” replied
Molly, “and we shall not have to send to mill any
more, for this is the last of the corn.” .

“This the last? What will you do when this
is gone? Oh, never mind; ‘sufficient unto the
day.’ No, I willtake itin. There, you’ve knocked
the red honeysuckle out of your hair.” He stooped
and picked up the full red cluster, putting it into
his buttonhole.

“ Now I am decorated also; that is a lovely
bunch you have at your waist, and they suit your
white dress beautifully.” He talked on to brighten
her sad face if possible; John’s imminent danger
had shocked her greatly. bag

“Father always liked red and white,” said
Molly, “Thank you very much, the meal ee
in here, please,” she lit a candle to show —
into their now nearly empty store-closet. “How
thankful I am you saved John from being taken

away !”

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

 

“It was a pretty near thing. The soldiers
seems to regard Quakers with a special hatred. I
think [I'll turn Quaker myself out of sympathy
for the persecuted,” returned Rosco lightly.

“Are you in earnest?” asked Molly, holding
the candle on high, as she turned and looked at
him.

“The more I look at the question of war and
study the Bible, the more it seems to me the only
consistent Christian course,” the young man re-
plied, soberly, “it was certainly the example
Christ set and most clearly taught. Non-resistance
was His principle always.”

“Oh, what if the army should claim you
too!” exclaimed Molly.

“It is very odd that they have not; I feel
though as if it were coming. Well, we are not
there yet,” with a half sigh over what might soon
be required.

“No, you seem to stay here,” broke in John’s
merry voice, quite himself again seemingly.
“Haven’t you put that meal in the barrel, yet?
Molly, I don’t like candle-grease in my hoe-cake.”

Molly laughed as she noticed how crookedly
she was holding her candle over the barrel.

ON SHORT RATIONS, 141

 

“We may have to come to it, if our lard gives

Mo an 1
out,” she said. ee
“ We need not anticipate, though,” said John.

“Rosco, Mr Gordon wants you now to go home

with him.”

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER XII.
COLONEL PRESTON’S VICTORY.

We must go back a little in our story to
where the Confederate army lay at Petersburg,
awaiting the attack of the Federal forces. It was
the day after the conversation between the col-
onel and Haydock. The officers thought an en-
gagement was imminent, and might take place
at any hour. The colonel was moving around
among his men to make sure that everything was

in readiness, and paused a moment to speak to
James Haydock who sat reading in the
his tent.

door of

“Haydock, won’t you, as a personal favor to
me, carry a rifle to-day? I really can’t put a man
into battle unarmed.”

““The Lord will be my shield and buckler.’
‘He that putteth his trust in Him shall never be
confounded.’ I do appreciate thy interest and
am grateful for it, but I cannot go back on my
captain. If it is His will to protect me, He is as

COLONEL PRESTON’S VICTOR A 143

 

able to do it in battle as elsewhere, and if He sees
fit to take me home to Himself, ‘even though He

’

slay me, yet will I trust in Him.’” James Hay-
dock had risen and stood with one hand on the
rein of the colonel’s horse looking earnestly at the
rider, who looked back at him as monary.
“Well, I do not understand it; yours is not
the faith of a blind fatalist, I see that, and I
should like to know the power that holds yon up.
If we come alive out of this day’s work, I'll nent
another talk with you. Wasn’t that a eet? I’ve
no more time now; may your God keep you,” and
turning, Colonel Preston rode hastily away; al-
most at the same moment two soldiers approached
James Haydock, and each taking one of his arms,
he was led away to the company with whom he
was to share the peril of the front rank in battle.
As James Haydock stood in line awaiting he
nearer approach of the blue battalions coming
down the opposite hill and across thes paliey lying
between them, thoughts crowded into his mind
with intense vividness.
The lovely blue sky over them, the sunshine
flooding the country, the hundreds of bright
manly fellows now full of vigor, in a few minutes

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

144 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

?

why should they suffer? What would their death
avail? Did they save another life by resigning
their own? Could not the horrible waste of hu-

to be stretched lifeless, or in agony, on the ground ;

man life have been prevented by wise legisla-
tion carried into effect years ago? When a crisis
is upon us the time of preparation is past; when
men are angry and every passion is aroused, the
moment to preach pacific measures is over, and
the result is that thousands must suffer for foolish
delay or- blindness in forseeing the evil. And is
this suffering expiatory? No, a hundred times
no, it is simply and solely the inevitable result of
sin. Is the pain of a burn the expiation for put-
ting one’s hand into the fire? Even a child would
hardly so assert, yet we hear it constantly affirmed
that the blood so abundantly shed in our civil
war was in expiation for the sin of slavery! The
unavoidable consequence of sin is suffering ; the
inevitable result of leaving the light is to walk in
darkness. The crime of slavery was but working
out its natural end of death and destruction, and
involved in its fall many who had shaken them-
selves free from the evil nearly a century before.
What can be more pathetic than the words of the

145

COLONEL PRESTONS VICTOR ¥. "

 

; y in
prophet Jeremiah as applied to our country

P ¢ ‘ a ; ) >
her deep distress. “ A wonderful and a horrible
e S SS.

» land ; the prophets pro-
thing is committed in the land ; the proy I

, people love to have it so,
phesy falsely, and my people

; Nestea 0d
and what will ye do in the end thereof ?
yas Jé ; Haydock’s mind in
So absorbed was James Hayd : :
; ra 7 * rakenec
thoughts of this kind that he was only awaker
fall f his surr lings when a shower
to a full sense of his surrounding
0 2 S$ Ss 7
f rifle-balls fell about him, and through the sud
bere te cited
Jen cloud of smoke he saw that the blue-coats
den ¢ :

re coming up the hill, the answering volley
wer g 3 pie
s faili sheck the onwar«

from the Confederates failing to chee

is ri ‘ oaded his re-
rush. The man on his right hand los

Iver after this first fire, and his eyes gleamed
voiver alt

fiercely at the foe, the one on his left hand had
ercely at the ;

llen and entered the next world with a curse on
rlien ¢é ff
Ags Colonel Preston rode rapidly along
Pa

fe

his lips.
the ranks, cheering his men on, his eye fell on
1e ranks, ¢

c 8 1 | i y ri is é nds
James Haydock standing Cc uietl W ith his h 1

€ S} i d him ] i 5 ) i the
loosely clas ved behinc ooking out into

confusion.
xod’s sak > rear.
“ Haydock, for God’s sake, go to the reé

i at way; it is down
can’t see aman standing that way; It

”
i rder.
right murde A :
it j > red a smooth
“Tn faith it is all murder,” muttered e

(10)

 
 

 

146 THE HAVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

faced lad as a shot str uck him and he fell at the

eee biheares how mother will get

along without me,” was the faint whisper that
James Haydock caught as he bent «

the young fi

colonel’s feet.

a moment over
ace so suddenly grown gray and rigid,

“ He’s ae Go to the.rear, I tell you; I
command you.”

Silently James Haydock turned to obey or-
ders when a fresh and stil] closer hail of
staggered him for an instant; almost blinde
the smoke, he could yet see that the ec
fallen from his horse, and 1;

shots
d by
olonel had
ay motionless, while
the animal fled wildly over the field. Without a
minute’s hesitation, James Haydock lifted the
rather slight form, and carrying it in his arms,

walked quietly along the line and back to the
tents in the rear.

“J thought you said that man wasa coward,”
said a soldier to his comrade; “ that

don’t look
much like it.”

“Coward or hero, sinner or saint, I don’t

know; but I wish I felt as calm as he looked.

Look out, here they come, now for a close fight

and may the Lord have mer cy on our souls,”

“Divil a bit the Lord is in this sort of work;

 

7 , , 7
COLONEL PRESTON'S VICTORY. 14

 

 

it ain’t His kind. We'll drive ’em back though,
if we can.”
And driven back they were; it was not that
St fa a
day, nor the next, that Rennes fell - the
hands of the Northern army. There was to bea
greater horror before the end was reached. A hor-
ror of exploded mines, e¢ arth and stones flung up-
ward, with a shower of mangled bodies falling
again from the height to which so many human
forms had been blown. Well earned was the va yee
of Fort Hell, still clinging to the place. W ee s
after the fight occurred, the writer, in pre
over the ground shuddered we behold here .
there a skeleton hand sticking out — o
earth, telling its pitiful story; while “— a
steps a skull would gleam up through the ¢ ri
with the hair on it blowing in the soft summer
ee was no sleep for James Haydock that
night. The Northerners acknowledging their de-
feat, retired to their camps toward nes : ae a
shone redly through the smoke ingering over he
battle-field, and soon dropped behind the a
hills, while the damp mists rose, oul, ming fe)
with the smoke wreaths, made the air thick an

TSS My EMR TLS RH AT I

 
 

 

148 THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

heavy. As James Haydock moved from tent to
tent doing what he could to relieve the sufferers,
he met the chaplain, who stopped a moment, re-
garded him curiously and then said:

“*Ts thy God whom thou servest continually,
able to deliver thee from the lions?’” and James
Haydock adopting the further language from
Daniel of old, responded in like manner:

“*My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut
the lions’ mouths, that they have not hurt me.”
The chaplain spoke again, half to himself.

““Then was the king exceeding glad for
him;’” then in a more practical tone asked:

“Have you seen the colonel within an hour
or so?”

“No; the doctors were with him when I came
away, and I have been doing what I could for
others. I fear he is seriously wounded.”

“Have you looked at the dead?” was the
chaplain’s next question.

“ No.’

“Would you mind then, going into the long
tent, and seeing if there are any little things about

 

COLONEL PRESTON’S VIC TORY. 149

 

The hush that prevailed under the long white
canvas canopy was very solemn, and contrasted
= - ” ¢ ev

i ans rhich James Hay-
strangely with the moans to which J ay

r i rhe lpi ri he
dock had been listening when helping w ith t

wounded. Here all pain was over; peacefully lay

the still forms on the bare boards that did not

look uncomfortable as the entire repose of the

faces was noted. No emaciation from illness, no
aces was ed.

i ~ffering is found as a rule on the
sign even of suffering 1s fo f

faces of those who make sudden exit from this
‘aces se .

vere gently going among
A few attendants were gently going among

world. ine
trying to find the address of distant
d oD

the bodies,
lations to whom would soon come the heavy

re
Sometimes a

tidings, “Killed at Petersburg.” a
photograph in a letter would be found, oe
a pocket testament with the name of the giv a in
it, and from the breast pocket of one ) oung =
James Haydock took a letter pantatning a dar
brown lock of hair tied with a tiny ee curl 4
The simple inscription, “ Baby’s hair,

gold. ante
prought the tears to James Haydock’s eyes as he
o

replaced the envelope over the heart that could no

longer beat for wife or child.

THEE LE Bn STOTT

ae

Till day dawned, James Haydock continued,

them you can send home to the families? Any- ed
rs, to do what he could to alleviate

thing is such a comfort.” with many othe

 

 
 

 

 

150 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY,

 

the misery always following a battle, and as the
eastern sky began to lighten he went to snatch a
few minutes rest in his tent. From this he was
presently aroused by a hand on his shoulder and
looking up he saw the chaplain standing before
him, looking tired and sad.

“Colonel Preston wants you,” he said, “T
don’t seem able to satisfy him,” he added with a

melancholy little smile. James Haydock rose at
once.

“Ts he very ill?”

“The doctors give him only twenty-four
hours, I believe; but I hope it is not that bad:
Here, take this coffee before you go,” and the
chaplain took a cup from a passing negro boy
who had been carrying the refreshing beverage to
many a thirsty soul through the night

“Thanks; now I will go.” A very few steps
brought him to Colonel Preston’s tent; the wound-
ed man was lying quietly on his mattress, with
eyes wide open, seemingly fixed on nothing; but
a look of recognition came into them as James
Haydock entered the doorway, pausing a minute
on the threshold.

“Come in, and sit down, no ceremony is

COLONEL PRESTON’S VICTORY. 151

 

needed now. Ido not think I thanked you for

”
carrying me off the field yesterday.
, ; y° ; r¢
“No thanks were necessary, surely; it was
}
the only thing to do,” and James Haydock sat

down on a camp stool beside the bed.

“You had no rifle or sword to impede your
steps, either,” said Colonel Preston smiling ~
grimly, ‘I am glad I had ondever you to the

it vas lucky for me I did. You would not
rear, it wé j

SOY
7] 7 rou %
have gone without, w ould y

talk of it now. Is
“ Probably not, but do not
Probably ; sant
there anything I can do for thee’
i -e may be, I don’t know; no one so
“Yes, there may be, a
isfacti S sstions
has given me satisfaction on these questio
village ind,” then suddenly, “ How
that will rise in my mind, then § ;
J. «<

i : Sté ‘ ave half
lo you know there 1s a future state Pim have
Q y

imes i », but
believed in a God, sometimes I think I do,
pie ie ave really
has always been the God I have really
nature has ¢ 7 ucing
worshipped ; she has been my guide. .
James Haydock made no motion of surprise,
into rather ‘ied sen-
iting quietly till the short, rather hurried se
wait uiet - 6
shanl: =
tences had stopped ; meanwhile the chaplain he
ences ha ; pie
lided in, seemingly unnoticed, and taken a see
g oY
i nel.
behind the colo | bei
uffering? Will talking hurt thee?
“Ts thee suffering ‘

-dock’s first question.
was James Haydock’s first q

 

ROE LI ER es POT PC 2

eke

ars

 
 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“No, no, I’m not in pain, the trouble is some-
thing internal, they say, I don’t know how they
know; but go on, talk, and leave off your con
founded ‘thees’ and ‘thous,’ will you? I don’t
get the sense clear. I beg pardon; I don’t mean
to hurt you,” he added, controlling the irritation
caused by weakness.

“You don’t hurt me,” replied James Hay-
dock, gravely. To him the « plain language”
was not a matter of vital importance. Coming
directly to the point, he said, “You speak of na-
ture as a guide.”

“ Yes, she is infallible; and she seems to teach
that we die and return to the earth as do the ani-
mals. I have studied her a good deal and it
seems to me I have interpreted correctly.”

“T have studied nature also; and it is curious
how, having been educated by the same teacher,
we have arrived at different conclusions. Either
one of us has not understood her teachings, or she
has deceived us,” said James Haydock, following
the colonel’s line of thought.

“No,” replied the colonel, “nature does not
deceive, whatever else may.”

“Then,” said James Haydock, “the mistake

153
COLONEL PRESTON’S VICTORY.

 

[ay ; are my views with
is in one of us. May I compare j vf
y ur’s? I take it you only seek the truth
ours: re ) ) ;
ce sar you
“That is all; go ahead, I like to hear y
c i, ’

sr his cheek and lay
talk,” he put one hand under his cheek y
’

i a ea ai ” h bright, seeking
ing ¢ ; companion with brig
looking at his

r e ath-
y i 5 sué 1 manner O aeé
eyes I hi yas not the 1 r f | a
. s was 1su

bed talk, and the speaker attracted him.
“ Have you ever known in your experience a

‘ sie ate
TQ ray s appe tite ?
: ature was opposed to its
re whose nature was
creature who:

few i S é an said.
Tr olonel thought a few minutes and the
1e = :
“« No. s uch a creature cannot exist. With a
+ QO, s 4 c : we
or F ae S é ) ) stite
ivorous stomach and an herbivorous appetite
carniv S$ st

”

the creature would soon star ae
“Can you think of any exception to this
© wv

law ?” . ia He
q sertainly in the animal world;
“No; none certallt) -
education in a few instances migh
-) oC

Oe
pang rule holds the

the
almost change nature, but the
< 5

”
same. : Se
“You think you are going to die?” we

next seemingly irrelevant questior

0.’ and a pained look passed over
“T suppose so, and a pal i

ive face for an instant only.
the expressive face for a ' parece RS
“ You think death terminates your existence t

ii
thing else?
“Yes, I can’t really see anything

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

“ N
Now answer me 7
i “ answer me, have you not an appetite
somet 7
: _ ung you have not yet gotten ?”
Yes, I want to live.”
ga ik
: long do you want to live?”
ou have me tl
1ere, how ¢ i
ust » how can I possibly tell
“lf y BERG
you lived till the world were destroyed
supposi at ey sid
PP ang that ever takes place, would your ae
sire for life be satisfied ?” :
“ No ”
“ ig :
: Would it ever be satisfied? Does natur
1en give you ¢ a
: e give you a longing that can never be sati
ed? W ve 7 are
Would even a God be a just God who im
lanted « ti i
planted an appetite for something that was 1
to be satisfied ?” sce
“ N .
0; ink
mes i ; I do not think I ever saw the thing in
1at light before. Have I been mistaken 2”
“Would thi i a
us satisfy y ep Ee ivi
$ave austy you, ‘I am the living
re at came down from Heaven; if a man e ut
of this bre > shall li PORE 0
i ad he shall live for ever and ever’”
he a satan ;
tb : t would satisfy, if you believed it.”
sity i i 7
: not a logical deduction that the longing
r more th 7 i |
re than we shall find in this world should
€ provi ;
I ~ ided for? Does not the very fact that the
. : :
onging exists prove that there is something to
hing

COLONEL PRESTON S VICTOR '. 155

 

Will you not accept God and believe

satisfy it?
in the redeeming power of Christ,
If bare our sins in His own body on the tree bie

“ What is the rest of that?” asked the colonel,
and more as the words

approaching light of the

‘who His own
se

his face softening more
spoken grew clear in the

next world.

«<¢That we being dead to sins, should live unto
righteousness—by whose stripes ye are healed,’ .
then quoting a foregoing verse, half to himself,
James Haydock added, “‘ Who, when He was re-
viled, reviled not again ; when He suffered He
threatened not, but committed Himself to Him
who judgeth righteously.’”

“ Who judgeth righteously,” repeated Colonel

Preston, “ Where should I be if I were judged ac-

cording to my deeds? Yet I have lived as other

men.”
“‘ We have all sinned and come short of the
glory of God.’ ‘If any man sin, we have an ad-
vocate with the Father.’ ‘And He laid on Him

the iniquity of us all.’”
“ Haydock, as the end draws near, one must
believe there is something more. This life cannot

go out here; there is too much in us, and the look-

 
 

 

 

 

156 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

ing for a future is inevitable ; there must be

some-
thing beyond ;

now how do we attain to it?”
““There is none other name under Heavy

en.
given among men whe

teby we must be saved,’”
answered James Haydock.

“And that means Christ? Say that text
about Him again.”

““Who His own self bare our sins, in Hi

S own
body on the tree,’

” slowly repeated James Hay-
dock, with an earnest silent prayer that the truth
might go home to the anxious listener ;
voice he continued the
Scripture.

in a low
simple quotations from

“* Without the shedding of blood there
remission.’ ‘If we walk in the light, as He
the light, we have fellowship one with
and the blood of Jesus Christ cles

is no
is in
another,
inseth us from all

sin.’ ‘ Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ,

is born of God.’ ‘God so loved the world that He

gave His only begotten Son that whosoey

lieveth on Him should not perish, but h
lasting life,’ ”

er be-
ave ever-
The voice ceased. Colonel Preston
covered his eyes with his hand

as he listened, not
to man’s

arguments, but to the simple words
from the Bible. In the silence that followed the

Pe ty, 157
COLONEL PRESTON 'S VICTOR 7.

 

 

cessation of the speaker’s voice, he ups
‘ied and quietly said: “I estat in God,
and that Jesus Christ is His Son. Se
“¢ Pe that believeth hath everlasting life, ¢ ‘s
‘he that believeth on the Son of God agrees
ness in himself,” said James Haydock, than J
watching the dawning of light. epee
“That is surely true, and I rs: ee —
is speaking in me,” said the colonel, ‘ i
fou ever came to camp, Mr. Haydock ; noth e
ee impressed me as your absolute faith has —
it gave me confidence in you and miner. nes -
somewhere that I did not understand. nn ” —
all the preaching in the world, and mi - esis
riven me rest; the doubt is gone. Gor ‘ i —
Deatictolly good to me.” He stopped " a ~
ind lay quietly looking away through , f bees
sista to the distant hills; there was no particule

> Ol ) i i LCC p ane of the truth,
f saccepta ce

nce motio nin his c

show ing

evide ga
verspread his face,
‘reat peace overspreé
but a great p

Sa e ‘
th =) reality Oo 7 1e change. At this sg = the
: € « ce 5 } s] easiae O
d t r came in and Wwe ] 0 i e
octor ca e 1 king up t t 1 d d y f

S ulse ;
tl > wounded man, laid his hand on his p se
1e

the colonel looked at him inquiringly. nasi
“ Am I any better, doctor? I don’t suffer.

ST A Rn er EE,

Boal

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIVO

NY.
shy RST La Se
“No, you may not suffer at all, but you are
no better.”

The doctor was a blunt, though a kind-
hearted man ; feeling strongly he often ¢
the feeling under an off-hand m
few minutes looking down at
presently looked up and smiled.

“Are you all right?” suddenly asked the
doctor.

oncealed
anner; he stood a

the colonel, who

“Aye, all right,” was the quick response, “ two
hours ago I was not all right, but God

sent. this
man, I truly believe, to me,

and through him light
has broken into my heart at]

ast; I never dreamed
of seeing so clearly,

I can die now, though I
would like to live to tell othe

rs what has been told
me ”

“T thought you looked differently from when
I saw you this morning.

quick.”

The change was pretty
The doctor spoke a trifle doubtfully.

“You think it is a death-bed conversion ? No
wonder. I don’t know how to tell you the r
of it. I never can, but what I can te
does not take a man long

eality
ll you is, it
to grasp a good thing
and God helped me to see

it.” The eager voice failed somewhat, as he fin-
ished his sentence,

when he sees it plainly,

 

COLONEL PRESTON’S VICTORY.

159

 

‘est; have you
alk and rest; have )
“You must stop talking a Rake
ine to eat?” The doctor’s eye wan
std tpt h of some one, and he looked
in seare some ,é
stent in search Of s
round the te ne eee
i ; chaplain rose fre
i surprised as the ¢
a little surp
r ame forward.
+k corner and ca
ta ‘ll get Colonel Preston what he needs,
“T will ge
i tent.
ai ng out of the
Ae ‘+h with him this morn-
“T’m afraid I was rough wi on
i f ri vim.
sal s eyes following ‘
sno.” the colonel said, his ey
19,” the co
or ll him so.”
must tell him so. : Me
“Very well; don’t talk too much though, }
9 2499
are not able for it. | ‘
“JT want to talk while I can. = be
‘ <3 for you,” the doctor sé
“Your face talks for you, canter
hortly, “I'll come in again by and by,” é
Fae is attention more
, vo to others who needed his atten
. For him he knew there was no
‘or him he
seolonel. For hi
than the col
» be done. ;
more to be « nee
All day long James Haydock stay ed y
d a) . ; wise.
j ith most of the reg
y 1 common wit
er ax ttachment. Toward the
j felt a strong attac be C
iment, he felt a strong een rigor
1 f the afternoon Colonel Prest
we i nd the Chaplain persuaded James
; aa eye) a )
ulet sleep, ¢ serpent
; Jock to go and lie down in his ow!
ia i 1 you when he wakes,
«“ Tt is close by, I will call you

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

160 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

es eereestonieneat s

” Thus urged, James
dock consented to leave the sick bed, for in-
deed he was nearly exh

and you must be very weary.
Hay

austed. In about two

hours a touch on his arm aroused him.

“Will you come?” were the only words the
chaplain said, and he followed silently

to the col-
onel’s tent;

a slight smile crossed the face of Col-
onel Preston as James Haydock sat down beside

him ; it went almost as quickly as it had come and

left a gravity that had a tinge of questioning
in it.

“The valley of death is not far

away,” he
said, speaking with an effort.

“Tt is but the valley of the shadow of death.
To one who sees the light of Christ

through, it can be only a shadow: nothing to be
ee d ? 5
afraid of”

shining

“T am not afraid; the light is clear, but the

assing seems strange,” and then James H
fo] o™~)
told him, speaking slowly to the

the story of the Alpine guide, who, in crossing a

dangerous peak, slipped upon the glittering snow
and fell down into a precipitous r

aydock
failing senses,

avine ; slipping

e, he was still alive

and sliding over the smooth ic
when he reached the bottom, but how

hopeless his

Pi i 161
COLONEL PRESTON S VICTORY. es

 

7s stretched silently
‘tuation; only the eternal snows stretche :
sltud ? ‘ ati with
bove and the blue sky looking ete
above ¢ 2465 “ vs
him. A little rivulet rippled and sé .
ae sie. ‘avi is only
; tly beside him along the ravine, h wh ,
sweet} Fae
hance of escape lay in following it; so ]
peg ank wall of crue
don and on till all at once a blank wall ¢ :
una stream san
: before him at whose base the stream sé ae,
ice rose before | desing
‘nely, into a whirlpool and vanished é
ancl ee 7] ¢ rayer
I ; sone? A pause, and then with a pray
De 3 i
te a sprang into the water and strugglec
Ce in ¢ yment on
long through a cavern to emerge In a me es
es i st beautifu
1 meadow covered with the most bee
a greer c tf nb
Al ine flowers. Like death, it was but po af
nine flowers. | pina ee
; brighter world. Colonel Preston listene ‘
cr ore, and in
sk something more,
i seemed to ask for so
his face seem apache tse
the waning light, James Haydock repeé
1e
rds: as
a ««This is the victory that phages
ain, “‘He that
ld. even our faith;’” and again, “
sere is shall have
beli th on me shall not perish, but she
elievet
r 43 ife. ”
sverlasting life. a
; Low and clearly fell the sentences fro Se
ote | i f everlast-
i i he certainty of e
cer’s lips, telling of t
coor atap i ked out calmly anc
i iri ssing looked o
i »; the spirit passir
oto ost eyes that
ep and earnest ey
4
from the deep
expectantly
(11)

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

162

THE HAVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

suddenly brightened, and as suddenly failed and
grew dark. He was gone.

The chaplain who had been standing near
the head of the cot, stooped forward and closed
the lids, when he saw that all was over.

“Through death unto life,” he said, as James

Haydock having risen, both men stood together

beside the dead. Straightening the limbs lovingly,

they turned to leave the tent, the chaplain to see
about rendering the last necessary services to his
colonel, James Haydock to return to his place,
feeling as though his assistance was no longer
needful. The chaplain stopped him.

“Mr. Haydock, I cannot leave you to-night
without telling you how deeply grateful I am for
the lessons you have taught me to-day. I shall
never forget what you have said, and shall go on
my way to fulfil my duties to others, I hope more
earnestly and believingly than I have ever done
before.”

“The words which I have spoken were not
mine. May the Lord bless them to you—‘ now the
Lord of Peace Himself give you peace always by
all means,’” was James Haydock’s parting saluta-
tion as he turned away after a warm hand-clasp

COLONEL PRESTON'S VICTORY. 163

 

from the chaplain. Lights were still =
about in some of the tents, but ns Own was dar .
as he entered it and a deep depression ame over
him as he leaned against the post supporting the
canvas. Colonel Preston had been a friend to hits
and he felt the loss; he had heard nothing be
home; how were all his dear ones, and ¥ " he
ever see them again? What would be his fa s P
the next battle? Would he still be protected ?
Then the words concerning Daniel which wigs
spoken to the chaplain in the en pen
comfort him and as if in confirmation of the
thought, again came faintly through et ee
the distant singing from the negroes’ tent:

‘My Lord delivered Daniel,
Why can’t He deliver me?”

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

vad isinlaetnoer ce eT ie

CHAPTER XIII.

DREARY DAYS.

The summer wore away with its long days of
intense heat. The autumn of the last year of the
war brought its beauty of yellow leaves, purple
asters, and scarlet and orange berries to a land
that groaned under the burden of desolated
homesteads and ruined fields,

Supplies of all kinds were growing scarcer;
roasted peas had taken the place of coffee, sassa-
fras leaves were used for tea ; sugar, except a little
made from home grown sorghum, was hard to ob-
tain, and sold at preposterously high prices. Few
indeed of the inhabitants of the South had any
money to buy with, though cornmeal was still an
obtainable commodity, and potatoes were to be
had in some places.

Frances Haydock had availed herself of an
opportunity of purchasing a large supply of corn-
meal from a neighbor moving away from the vi-
cinity and therefore they were out of reach of ab-

DREARY DAYS. 165

solute want, and the two heifers fortunately still

remained unimpressed by the army; they had
been brought from their distant pasture to a
and were housed at night as the cooler

nearer one nes
an unsuspicious looking little

autumn drew on, In
building behind the house. The barn was too
d by passing foragers to be a safe

often searche ;
Letters came 1n-

shelter for the precious animals.
and by uncertain carriers, from James

frequently as a
his anxious friends of his cir-

Haydock, telling by
cumstances. So far he had been preserved in

and had even undergone no especial suffer-
c c 4

d to many privations.
ed for his fellow

safety,
ing, though he was subjecte
He was often able to do a kind de

soldiers, and was continually manifesting by word

and action the faith that was in him.

Mr. Gordon had been a kind friend to the
Mrs.

Yo € ain) 2) vey
Haydocks during the husband’s absence.
: an invalid, was failing

Gordon, for many years 4
and more as the straightened condition 0
; a

and Mr. Gor-

His son,

more
their circumstances told upon her,

don was thus much needed at home.

ver, often rode over to the Haydock farm and
?

howe
és ould, the household

assisted in whatever way he ¢
in which he had a particular interest.

 
167

DREARY DAYS.

 

and Gordons

 

 

 

Probably it was owi
as owin m 4
& to the fact that old Mr. neighborhood where the Haydocks
dwelt, and had gone unresistingly, though re-

oar mtie to be a staunch Southerner,
abied In yi :
been permitted Rreteses a PORT maining firm in their refusal to bear arms. Their
flict between North and South “e a the con- families had been left to toil on as best they might,
man had pondered long’ dd Fa i Wie. their horses and cows had been taken for army
position held by Friends, tipasdbae ns ” the use, and all means of travel being thus gone,
come to the conclusion that it uti i » and had communication between neighbors became rarer,
as the only one and households were more isolated.
Molly often felt very lonely, and the bright

 

 

 

 

 

consist ri i
_ rg with the Bible teachings. Well aware
hat his father would di
would differ on this poi
11S 1
Is point, he had presence of Rosco Gordon was most welcome,
whenever he entered their quiet dwelling. One

 

 

 

not s ‘
poken at home of his convictions, but he
morning in late October, carrying a half-filled bag

 

 

knew in his he:
1 his heart that should he be drafted iis
of pine cones over his shoulder, John came run-

the army '
my, he must refuse to carry arms, even in
ning up the avenue whose fine old trees were be-

allegiance to his beloved South. He knew that
ginning to have rather a neglected look; strag-

wars ee a
must come; it was foretold in the Bible that
gling bushes were creeping in among them, anda

as long as the world lasted in its present condition
?
; dead bough here and there betokened the absence

th y :
ere would be destructive conflicts. But he also

c ‘
of a master’s hand.

the sam
€ manner, and th ;
d that the fact o er
act of their being “Qh, mother!” John
“there are two companies of Northern soldiers

s :
aw clearly that many evils were prophesied in
ee : cried breathlessly
ah itable did not make them right. He believed ct
it was most distinctly the duty of every child ‘ ;
God to free himself f tl y child of coming up the road, and they saw I turned in
self from i ;
and to do all in hi Ki sin of bloodshed, here, and they say they must have something to
ait in his power to induce others to view i :
the teachings of Christ in thi pies: eat, and hay for their horses; see, there are the
; rist in : : ‘ a aes
11s same light. Many first of them now just coming up the lane,” his
rapid speech was full of excitement; “ Molly, the

Fri n ha n tak n fr n th ll h m in th . ”
heifers

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

168 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

“ *
Are out at pasture;

but if these men tak
quantity of hay, what sh vie

a. all we do this winter?”
rust in the Lord, daughter dear,”

said her
mother, whose quie

eaqad tness often calmed Molly, just
Bp 4 y's energy frequently sustained her moth-
ers sinking heart.

r
Pwo x :
squads avalry
a juads of cavalry rode up before
Ing more could be
front yard, tie

any-
said and dismounting in the

, d their horses in rows to the sur-
rounding fence and for

: . ming into line seemingly
rom force of habit, ;

jp approached the house.
Vill you please give us what you have at

hand at?”
hg eat?” was the courteous demand of the
capte as ivi
Pisin, as he entered the living-room without
Waiting for an invitation,

1 bcntia ® ,» Ae
Certainly,” was Frances Haydock’s

Sate willing

al
These were Union men, and therefore
rie 3 even ife« j
: lends even if soldiers. “J suppose thy men will
© content with what we have? It is only hoe-
cakes and coffee,”
oN ene
a 126 real coffee at that, I fancy,” said the
Captain with a smile, «“ Yes, ma’am, we will only
take what w
we can ; pleas i
ne get; but please be quick about

Molly promptly set before them what food

DREARY DAYS. =

 

they had ready, and fresh coffee was soon boiling
on the stove. Forty men were not easily satisfied,
and Molly’s pans of freshly baked corn-bread
disappeared like leaves before the wind. Those
whose appetites were first appeased went to the
barn and returned with armsful of hay for the
weary horses that stood at the fence with droop-
ing heads. The heavy saddles were loosened and
the dangling stirrups clinked.as the hard ridden
steeds shifted their position from one tired leg to
the other. The soldiers threw themselves down
in the sandy yard under the shade of the live oaks
and smoked leisurely as the horses ate their rather
dry provender. Some of the men lounged on the
porch steps and watched the smoke from their
pipes curl up among the Banksia roses and red
honeysuckle. The quiet premises seemed turned
into a camp. The captain had made some at-
tempt to open a conversation with Molly, address-
ing her in a polite manner enough, but the girl
feeling ill at ease had cut him short, and disap-
peared into the kitchen with a pile of plates in
her hands, leaving her mother to keep up the con-
versation. Frances Haydock supplied him with
what he needed, and at last addressed him with

the question,

Wad Rincllers ETAT LIC,

eT 2d

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

eee

“ a
Do they consider at the North th
is likely to continue long ?”
“No, ma’am,”

 

at the war

the soldier gs :
(eR a ene spoke decidedly,
we think this winter will end it; the South table

not hold out much longer, her supplies are pretty
much gone, and that is what Ww

7 y? od

in. They’ve made a plucky st
money, men, or food,
collapse sooner or later ”

ill make ’em give
and, but without
so to speak, they must

“ .
I shall be most thankful when it is over,”
.
said Frances Haydock.
“ a
No doubt ma’am; you’ve felt it
here than the Northerners do.

houses we have be

a deal more
Why most of the
en in round here had no ecar-

ae ’

pets; cut ’em all up for army blankets
d ip

food as we’ve h

country!

and such
ad to put up with through this
Are you a Southerner, ma’am ?”

“A was born in the South. I believe how-
ever, In supporting the Union, but not by

“T don’t see any other way
ma’am, just now,” he replied, “
sinking ship, you catch the fir
up; do the best you can.”

war.”

of supporting it,
‘when you're in a
st plank that turns

“
Better have strengthened the

, ship by remov-
ing uns F i
4 sound wood before the peril was upon us 4
?

DREARY DAYS. 171

 

Frances Haydock replied smiling. The straight-
forward manner of the man interested her, in spite
of his rather arrogant air.

“Yes, ma’am, I agree with you; anyone who
has really seen war does not hanker after it. We
must be moving now, thank you for the din-
ner, and good-by; hope to see you sometime in
better condition,” and bowing, he went out to get
his men together for their further march.

“I hope we shall not see him at all,” re-
marked Molly to her mother, “they have taken
nearly all the hay.” Through the open door they

vatched the departure of the blue-coated soldiers,
soon the last figure had vanished and no trace of
them remained except the trampled sand and
scattered wisps of hay.

“Mother, there is nothing for supper, is
there?” asked John, later, coming in from the
shed where he had been cutting wood to supply
the fire.

“Molly and I will soon bake some more pone
bread, if thee gets us some eggs,” said his mother
cheerily, “We must not grudge the food to the
Union men,” pushing the hair away from her
forehead and preparing for work. Molly noticed
the rather weary gesture and said,

 

Fad Enter ICAL SIR BA

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

 

“Sit down, mother,

John and I will soon
have things in order.”

“Yes, I'll do it all,” said the boy,
remorseful for h

thing.
but I ¢

suddenly
aving found any fault with any-

“T suppose I should be glad to feed them,

an’t abide any of them, the
can order you all about,”

“Well, so they can,
find any eggs.

y think they

Now let us see if we can
Mother dear, sit down awhile.
There, chicks, they did not get you, anyhow, did
they ?” said Molly, gently driving out three half.
grown hens that were poking their heads about
under the kitchen table, their feet rattling on the
bare floor.

“Give them that last bit of corn-bread,
said John, and the

gether.

Molly,”
n they walked to the barn to-

“Pah, how the barn smells of b

ad tobacco,”
remarked John as they

stood on the littered floor.
“Tt is fortunate that they

did not set any-
thing on fire,”

returned Molly as they gathered
together the hay lying about

and tossed it back
into a manger,

“Molly, the evenings

are getting very cool,”
said John as they

went back to the house with a

 

; 73
DREARY DAYS. s

 

very few eggs. “I must get in a open ah
cones. Give me the pail now and I : go é :
milk the cows,” and John departed, whistling €
he went. His troubles, though keenly felt at the
time, did not long depress his merry act ane!
“Mother, how pale thee looks ; does thy hea
ache badly ?” questioned Molly, as she — pi
living room where her mother was ae
big chair, “won't thee go and sa down * c hy :
made a little fresh hoecake and it 1s now a es
“ My head does ache very much this ev wr
dear,’ her mother answered, in a rather fain
roice. |
“JT will make thee a cup of our ea tea eet
then put thee to bed,” said Molly, “The soldiers
ave tired thee.”
nt zi Molly, he thought the war must be —
over,” said her mother, as the girl sie pen
from their store of real tea, now Crone es or V =
extra occasions, and proceeded quickly to ma
a cup of the refreshing beverage. teen
“Yes, we shall soon have ancy pack again.
Now does not this tea smell good ? ae
“Very, my daughter,” but Molly w - He a
ened to see a tear roll down her mother’s wh

 

 
 

 

 

 

174

 

THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

cheek ; the long strain was wearing Frances Hay-
dock more than she knew.

“Thank thee; now I will go to my room,”
she said, and Molly assisted her mother to undress
and lay her aching head down to rest.

John soon came in and seein
pressed look, lit the

while, he

g Molly’s de-
fire, talking brightly all the
aping on fuel till the flame
up the chimney, and the

the cones dropped into the
ous odor through the

“Molly, come

8 leaped gayly
melting turpentine on
blaze, sending a resin-
room,
have some supper, do, I’m hun-
gry,” and Molly came to the table
had set the hoecake and milk.
“I’m going to boil two eggs, right here on
the coals, I think our hens

are really splendid
to lay so many,” and John se

whereon John

t a little saucepan
on some pine cones which, being an unsubstantia]
foundation, presently upset the utensil with its
contents on to the wide hearth.

“The eggs are done anyhow,”

“now eat them both, Molly,”
take one,

said John,

but she made him
and then went to see if he

sleeping ; as she entered t
Haydock moved re

r mother was
he chamber, Frances
stlessly and opened her eyes,

 

 

. 175
DREARY DAYS.

 

me please
“Molly, give me some of that anodyne } a ‘
+ > J “i a :
t get to sleep.” Molly administere f
I cannot ge s eae
side her mothe
ic and then sat besic
narcotic anc a
‘rrew calm and she fell quietly asleey "
ny the chamber, closing the door
rirl came from the che ‘
the girl cam ee ee
ly John rolled over from his favorite g
gently, Joh :
e he fire.
nlace before t : pee.
“Molly, I’m going to bed; I w nes :
; + ’ rar 7 1
ay’s work wi
‘row and do a big day’s
to-morrow an¢
a od-night.”
cones, so good-night. . oR
re ight, dear,” and the maiden ws
eae se shady corners
lone in the large room into whose shady .
ron" i ination. Be-
the firelight threw only a fitful one “
ieee 1e pore
a familiar step sounded on the ¥ mh,
tk idee I 1 musings, and the light
<ing in on her sac gs,
breaking in o > pati
knock was almost simultaneous with the oy g
cnock was ¢
he door to Rosco Gordon. :
3 J 5
“abs glad to see you to-night,” was
“T am so gle ‘
é vard, putting
Molly’s greeting as she came forward, |
itations.
sorrowful meditat
ay her sorro por
we é And I to come,” replied the young man,
aa beta i ck agains
d leaning back ag
stool and leani
i m on a low st :
ae high mantle-piece.
one of the jambs of the hig wh preah Oe
“ How is Mrs. Haydock to-night?
looking up at her.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“Oh, so tired,” said Molly, sitting down again
in the deep, high-backed rocking chair. She told

him of all that had happened that day, of their

numerous visitors, and the inroad made upon the
winter's stock of hay.

“It is only the result of a state of war and
cannot be avoided,” he remarked. “T am glad
you were not annoyed by any rougher behavior,
It is a lonely position for you all, Miss Molly, I
wish I was able to protect you.”

The color heightene
cheek, for there was
tone that m

d a little on Molly’s

a longing in Rosco Gordon’s

ade his remark almost personal.

“Tam glad you are as near neighbors as you

are,” she said, “we should feel desolate indeed
without you.”

“Have I told you that I have come to hold
your father’s belief about war?”

said the young
man, bre

aking the pause following Molly’s last re-

mark. He glanced at her, his hazel eyes shining
in the firelight.

“No, have you?” she said, “Oh, Mr. Gordon,,

it may bring a heavy burden on you; are you
able to bear it?”

“I think Iam. After all, nothing prompted

DREARY DAYS.

177

 

is 1 bur-
by lo ve for a de AT Master can be counted c
len He turned from her, lookin shou h
C y t y { f ll
into the fire. .
k Speaking of bur dens, he said, did you
2 y b1ras
ver hear the litt le Ger man le nd 0 1 k
eve I € e f th e d
and heir wings ?
fe : c NV gs :
Ase 7) * bs) vid Mo » ©
Plea 5 tell it to me, ic lly ind he
told he I how the fable ran that W hen the 1
| y c or-
re c is d e re ade DL soft anc g
were create 1e were mé | wl I |
° .
geo us plumage, but Ww ithout W ings ) then as they
| I } F : 2 Ss J J C reator
oppec bout 1nAtly 1@) t 1e ass, t 1€
h e 1 c ] r} t | n I 3 OT l =] t
U rc f wings c d them be fo re 1e
made a numbe 0 Wi aS ts] and ] Al store tl
I ds =) k 3 | I ese bu raer
yr ’ telling the m to ta e up t. 1ese l le 1s He
¢ 1 O1lV y ¢ t H DF: a] little
n 1 1 b ar them fo 1m. ac
hac gl ve ) anc cre r !
I y ant tc carr 1ée c l the
yird lifted tw 0 wings, conte ) y tl =] lc ve
VE aster g LVve soon ho ever the NV ings gre as
WLAS ave 7 * wey 3 uh oTrew f st on
c é 1ad seem d Ut &
3 ( rs, ar d hat W h cl ]
the shoul de Ss, 1 t icn se € I t An.
Inc imk rance Yré sed and b E t uy a
U ra } AS ore he bird WwW rd
tc ywal d c * z s C
a OV g ?
c a freer heaven (nd now | must )
181 y 1 i is leg 1d W hi ©
said Rosco T1s ng as I e ended 1 ] ger ; l >
ic vOS >
VLC V ) up l ll h aT yes ten x1 wit the
[ yl loo ked at 1 n, e eyes de h %
; | is y t . 1aa @
eau Cc ne) 2 aC O1C
bee hr’ yf the st I he h 1 { ] l he I ib l
immons t< -day t nm the arm al ist leave
3 ) 10) jo y> id mus ] 3) 7]
e norrow ev ning I su pose he spoke a pruy tl .
O orro ve s? p 'y b LLY

0?” exclaimed Molly,
“Oh, must you go, too!” ex
(12)

 
 

 

 

178 THE HA YDOCKS TES TIMONY.

clasping her hé in di igs
asping her hands in distress. « what wi
ae ; at will come

“
j . tgiaens aba ?” he asked.
Jt course I care,” she said
she added, looking not
ing mass of coals,

“Ts it selfish to be gl

“we all care,”
at him, but into the glow-

. ad that you do
: 7 ) care?”
said he. “I think I shall come b s

ibaa ack again and

He
a ia left the sentence unfinished and
silently shaking hands turne

d towar :
she followed and they oward the door;

stood on the
_s porch together.
I will not say good-by now; ;

I will se
in the morning.” itt

“Itis not good-by,”

she replied j
ons pled in a low

“No, it is not; God willi
» God willing,” he

ae answered an
lifting his hat, he mounte ee

: d his horse and was
fly fe € was
quickly lost in the obscurity of the avenue, M L

é » Mol-

4 stood listening to the hoof-beats dying away i
: ay in
am distance; an owl, looking unnaturally big i
e faint light of the young moon, flo vy
lessly from the roof over her head

the large live-oak at the
could see it st

ated noise-

and lighted on
corner of the house; she

anding amid the tiny green fern that

clothed the trunk of the tree far up to the branch
hes ;

 

DREARY DAYS. =

 

the gray moss hung motionless from the spreading
boughs. She felt unutterably lonely, her father
gone and Rosco going; she would not acknowl-
edge to herself that the last would be the greater
loss. As she stood absorbed in sad thoughts, a
sudden light round the corner of the house star-
tled her and she ran down the steps to see whence
it came; hastening to the side of the yard she saw
the barn was ina blaze of fire, the flames seeming
to have gained hopeless headway. What should
she do? There was absolutely nothing to do.
The building must have been burning on the in-
side for some time. Fortunately a scarcely per-
ceptible breeze carried the sparks away from the
house. Should she rouse hermother? She could
do nothing and was sleeping away her weary
headache; Molly did not want to wake her, and
John slept the profound sleep of boyhood in the
dark loft on the other side of the house. Molly
shivered with nervous excitement as she leaned on
the fence watching with fascinated eyes the burn-
ing hay whirled aloft in the current of air created
by the flames. The owl, alarmed by the light,
with a low uneven cry left the tree it was sitting
on and winged its way into a denser shade.

 

 
 

 

 

 

THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“The house is not in danger,” was her one
thought; presently she heard a horse come g
ing up the avenue and knew that Rosco Gordon
had seen the light and returned. Her figure was
clearly visible in the intense glare and Gordon

was quickly beside her; together they watched
the blazing building.

allop-

“The soldiers probably dropped some coals

from their pipes there this morning,” was his first,

remark. “It must have been smouldering a long
time.”

“T suppose so,” Molly’s voice trembled and
she said no more,

“Miss Haydock, won’t you go into the house?

You ought not to stand here in the night air,”
said Rosco anxiously, seeing how

“Tt is not that,”
forming the words,
together.”

she shivered.

she replied, her lips hardly
“but everything seems to come
He drew her hand within his

arm and
gradually her tremor passed away

as they silently
gazed at the hopeless destruction of the old barn.

The framework shone like bars of red-hot iron

against the white light within as the billows of
flame rolled up amid the heavy smoke.

“Isaw the light almost as soon as I passed

181
DREARY DAYS.

vt dns tts ARES AU
beyond the oaks. Iam only thankful your house
i in danger.” z
, a none said Molly, speaking ssi Fe
herself again. “Ah, see, there goes the last x ve
rafters!” and in truth, beam after beam ~
and in less time than one could er :
building had been or ge inn: mae
rlow showed where the o B ma
He = to ramble over when a child, 7 ane
“Tt is gone,” she said, making a mo io -
withdraw her hand, but Rosco still kept 1t on
as he led her to the house. ah,
oe if shi and see that ene ye i ~—
to take fire, and come and tell you, he said, as
opened the door for her to ar. aaa ae
“Thank you,” she replied, simp y; . *
toward the fireplace where the emnhess hap hene
in red rifts out through the white crus g
ae Lina right,” said Rosco cheerily, returni-
ing in a few minutes from his tour of pan pe
“the wood-pile is too far off to catch, an . nid
thing else is burned. I’m thankful i sr Prd
house are left.” Molly did not answer, an

i t he
looking at the girl’s drooping figure a moment he

 

 
 

 

 

18 x
2 THE HAVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

 

Ww i
at to her side and put his arm round her waist
she did not move away from him
“ N ”
ae Fly I had not meant to speak before I
» but I cannot help it—.” What else was said
on EN
a i old clock heard, as it ticked solemnly on
4 1€ nese were spoken very low in Molly’s ‘di
we know is that half an | id “the
: alt an hour afterward th
ight and color had returned to her face, and hee
: c 7 @ i
ng a bit of an old song as she banked up the

WELDON JA/L.

 

CHAPTER XIV.

WELDON JAIL.

Early the next morning Rosco Gordon rode

over to Frances Haydock’s to say good-by ; he sup-

e soldiers might come for him any time
of an

posed th

during the day and wanted to make sure

uninterrupted hour with Molly before th
Frances Haydock

e home

partings were gone through.
did not seem to be as much disturbed over the loss

of the barn as her daughter had feared. When a

great anxiety fills one’s life, smaller things m
no impression, and having been spared the actual
sight of the burning, she simply accepted the oc-
currence as inevitable, and not to be thought of

Grief over the conscription of Rosco Gor-
ated in her mind over any loss of

ake

again.
don predomin
property.

“Tf thee should see my husband, Rosco,” she

lding in her own the hand of the young

said, ho
m in the past

friend who had grown so near to the
troubled months, “ask him, if possible, to make

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

184

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

his way North.
him to remain with troo
Union to which he
truly thankful if I knew he were Ww
in the Northern States,”

“T will tell him if I see him, dea
dock, but the chances
dred.”

“T know,’

pen.”

r Mrs. Hay-

are scarcely one in a hun-

she said sadly, “but it might hap-

“T hope it will,” he replied, “
go. Good-by,” and he raised the still fair hand of
the Quakeress to his lips, lovingly, as a son might
do. It was an unusual salute for one of these un-
demonstrative people to receive, and it rather dis-
turbed Frances Haydock’s calm demeanor.

“Farewell,” she said, “and may the Master
keep thee as in the hollow of His hand” The
young man turned to Molly, “ Will you walk
down the lane with me a little way, Miss Hay-
dock ?” he asked.

She assented by

a hearty “ Good-by,
them all,”
slowly alo

and now I must

taking up her hat, and with
old fellow, take good care of
to John, the youth and maiden walked

ng the winding avenue through whose

There is surely no obligation on
ps bent on destroying the
is so loyal, and I should feel

ith our children

i
WELDON JAIL. wn

 

nany @
thinning foliage the autumn sun shot many

- faint ray. John looked after them.

“Take good care of you, serps? perce
dignantly, “does he think I won’t do ri : y
how? I care a heap more for you alt than he ch
I reckon; don’t I, mother?” receiving no —
he looked at his mother and gaining a new ra -
ligence from a rather surprised, yet aR ET 7
ing expression on her countenance, he ejac
with enlightened understanding, Kos

“Oh, that’s the matter, is it? Maybe nk si
care more for Molly than I do after all. 2
give him if that’s the case, for he really bass wis :
a jolly brother-in-law. That’s why he = te .
affectionate to thee, wasn’t it. I wouldn at

cy rh,” then another ray 0
people by proxy, thoug eB
light striking across his inexperienced ws a
suddenly sat down in the box containing I
cones, and remarked, pe

“Molly, didn’t seem to object to re :
down the road with him, so may se all ia
won't be done by proxy after all. His *~ #8
could not help laughing at the “a4 abt .

ishrr and yet the affair had tak
ese Be i that it need have done so, she

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

186

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

thought, as she looked back ov
intercourse, and increase
months.

er their years of

d intimacy in these latter
She loved Rosco with a W.

arm affection
and could not regre

t the turn matters had taken.
“And yet, oh, that the child may
suffer,” was her thought, the terrible
the country being ey

not have to

condition of

er present to her mind. Molly
soon returned looking brighter th

an might have
been expected after the parting,

but hope is strong
in young breasts and Rosco w

as sure he would be
back before very long. We may give thanks for
the blessing of hope; even if unfulfilled, how
many weary hours does it carry

John observed his sister critically
the porch steps,

us through.
as she ran up

“Molly, thee should not walk so f.

ast, thy
cheeks are very red, and thy hair is quite ravelled

out,” was his grave comment,

“What do boys know about ray

ellings? The
wind blew my hair all about,” was her answer.

he replied, “and
Molly turned and looked at

“There isn’t any wind,”
where is thy hat?”

him,

“Thee will get turpentine on thy pantaloons
if thee sits on those cones,

and I don’t want to

187
WELDON JAIL.

 

is sis f ing as she
. ne s sister laughing
eturned hi
clean them,” r
i house.
went into the at
“Where is that hat?” shouted the boy a
her. oe
“Bless me, where is it?” Molly felt for 1t a
s me,
I hung by the strings, but
her neck where it often hung by F
i id it s >» be on the
it was not there, neither did it seem to be
it was
an d of venue?”
; “ Shall I look for it at the end of the av
i ispered her brother over her shoul-
provokingly whisperec
’ i <itchen.
as he followed her into the kitche
ee I ‘” she said, suddenly
v rill get it myself,” she said, s
i, a haking him
catching his curls in both hands and shaking
4 =]
till he cried for mercy— wine.
> 70
“ Enough, enough, oh, let me go, obeys
i e just as fone 5
say another word, and will be just as we
a "4 as § rone n f
Gordon as possible. Where has she g¢ ate
a S or,” exclaime
I thought that would please her,” he He —
od into
j or Molly had fled i
j i d tone, for Molly
in an injure
own room and left him alone. ae
“Well, girls are certainly ce nee
11, 0
i yack she
marked to himself as he went into ons f es
, ately picked up
i irrel he had lately y
spect a squirre ‘i
naka It had fallen and broken its leg,
the swamp. f

d, although John had shot many of these little
and, al

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

—_ 7 —* 3 “
os ii ee

 

elp bringing it home to
ume it, both of which processes it seemed
to appreciate ful] y.

In following the fortunes of Rosco Gordon we
will not go into any more detail th

an that suffi-
cient to make our readers understand the feeling
which anim

st supporters of the
Christian spirit of love and peace ; a spirit too

long ignored by the churches professing to uphold
the principles of Christ in every respect. Now

that the most learned Bishop of the Established

Church in England has taken up the standard of

Peace, those ministers of the Gospel who laugh at
may well look into their

hat they
pare men for the reign of the
What we would like
the civil w

ated these earne

“ Quaker doctrine ”

own hearts and see w are doing to pre-
Prince of Peace,
to show in this story of
ar, is that those who walked in the
light of Christ's teachings willingly suffered for
their principles, and were not mistaken in their
trust.

Rosco Gordon Ww

as sent first to Raleigh, and
from thence to Weldon, whe

Te he was summoned
at once to drill, with a warnir

1g of his liability to be

189
WELDON JAIL. '

 

Ss t1 1e € 1 r rclara ] 5 st re lily re
h if lecl i ned to obe y or de Ts. T e steac : ‘ ‘
; eC i C =|] ence | lac 1
fuse 1 to bear arms, and was 1n consequ the =
ie 1 € . ri J ree O T
in el se confinement In a room W ith “
i risoners of var, cap-
men whom he found to be pr Ss bs} V :
: 7 c c 1 dai y } pil £
| > ] fo ra ¢ ( l y f ,
turec some months IE re in ( I
re be 1 I m back to
| snge é rC 1 Ss C )
ange VOU
an exché 5 th ut V 1k ser t e their
. be er ] £ make ac-
It Li d not t ake Rosco very long to
.
i o i é 10ns.
uaintance with his new compan Wt . ‘
o ¢ c re f or sal l ne
” ay y ask what you are he e 10
[a ] * Vv > ] . 1 soo
y y ffi =} 0 iin S' n
of the three men, a ouns 0 ce ’ t i 3
€ | é £ t 1em.
fter Rosco ad ee! Lace mon
a JOX h | 1 ” 1 y Ir You
] S > 1 <2
are @ Southerner, I th nk : ‘ < ss | ee
© =) 4 an d a hris tig n 5 1
és I am a Southerner, an 3 fg |
14 : eart au >
m of ny h th t verrias
eliev in from the botto
: ns § houl not y er or diso bedie
ti Ss d ! fight, ii am h re fc T wey e
i - I fficer look 1 a 4
t r t I eo
ar arms.
order to bear ari
to he or de : : > é ‘
1m ct i ) I € 3] 2 in his SLO be is c
} . mNTIC s]y7 ) ] 7 lk d
eurlous y; usin s slOoWwW Wa \ an
d wh the room. ae re : ‘
5 W hy lo you think Chi istians sho ild I t
f me i | ie l I am fy l B st n and ha e
” SK eC ” é Oo! Osto ve
a a n : p ver met any one
0 ma peo le, but I ne =]
seen a gx : ih
before who held those Views. AT M ; |
: 1 i ec >) Cc as [
Gor on smil “, 1 at the un onsc1ous issumM tion.

and replied,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOC KS TESTIM ONY.

 

“T think there are
even in Boston.”

“What do you ground them on?
tell me,

Will you
stopped his
and sat down on the bed be
“Some of the

take a turn now, we

if you do not mind?” He
steady promenade side
Gordon. rest of you gentlemen ¢:

in
can’t all walk

at once, and

ise in this cramped hole.”
“Thank you, W

long
legs out too far then, you’re not on the Harvard
campus ; I don’t want to fall over you,
low can’t get around much in this sized a

yet we do need exere

arren; don’t put your

part-
d man, getting up
a regular tramp,

ment,” replied a tal] fair-haire
promptly and beginning
over the bare floor.
and these accomod

tramp,
“T was raised in the w

ations seem rather limited.”
“Are the houses in the west bigger than
anywhere else, Logan ?” asked a little black-ey
fellow stretched on an adjoining bed, for ¢
were scarce in these quarters,
“Judging from the Size of this,

they were. Oh, I’d like to hay
home again.”

est,

ed
hairs

I should say
€ a look at our old

“Don’t stretch your arms out that way, Lo-
an ; you will lift the roof off”

191

 

£L € F is
i 4 at out ot th
I Ww ish I d \ thing’ to g
; 1S. cou ! ny 5 5
ic y fi ment ‘
weal we y =) A *
ary year connhne . :
; Re i 1 Lieutenant W ar-
i é salc
" Don’t think about it, iC *} miei
ing else Mr. Gorc Our
2 T alk of something ’ . i
ren. € y =) S ‘ 1 |
i j k you said that yas our name !-— vr
t 1n ) Sé V Ss y WwW ll u
tell 1 wha you r views are an 1 Ww hat y
, ne at 1 1 5 I ( ou f und
9)
them upon :
se 3, te inly if you care to listen ,
Cer A ’ mc a tell me
thoug h whe n you are . : ;
: i 1 all the tim ; it 1S only finding
- We are tirec € e ie
5 i rat reir shes us, Te-
anew ws 4 of being tired tl fi e :
I if ‘i i 5 I the bed and leaning
plied W arren, sitt ing up on t =]
ag i Ss 2 rall. ae
ainst the W a
\n 1 now let me sa y that if the reader wl - 5
| yi é WwW ic night hay e
to ski »a discussion the like of vhich I 5 ;
y i c 1 ft in these little
< é Ime and 0
bee n heard many a t n
pr i ti rely W elcome to do so.
rison rooms, he 1s entire Hit ae ne
f course if you are willing to en lang r
yo baad f I ; : j J y Ss belie e
i 4 Christ’s teachings, you mus t V
in t ‘ ( ‘ wa i 10rl 8) i words ‘5 be an the
ri f His ords i 14
; l li 1 € tk ty 9 or a
.) a, ; > no
, on Og ic tion P Te-
s 1a se
: ie a . a ar i " was the next rather ir-
| ¢ © | its € ; ‘4
rele en emar k rren’s « I don’t kno that
é ar. of W arre , WwW

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

192 THE HAVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.
I quite

admit the authority of the Bible
points, [ certainly do not

the atonement, though Id
seems to me w

in fear

on all
accept the doctrine of

0 believe in God. It

€ must ‘ work out our own salvation
and trembling.’”

“Do you quote that asa rule to live by?”
asked Gordon,

“Yes; I think we might take that as one of
God’s laws.”

“Do you
ceding it?”

agree to the verse immediately

pre-

“What is it? J don’t remember.”
ss Remember,’ that’s a good one,” said the lit-
tle black-eyed fellow, sotto voce.

“<That every tongue

Christ is God, to the
quoted Gordon, t

should confess that Jesus
glory of God the Father,”

aking no notice of the
made by the young fel]

called “Cully.”

remark

low whom his comrade

“No, I don’t think Ww

@ could say that,” re-
turned young Warren.

guish be-
Y of two verses in such close
juxtaposition ?” asked Gordon, « Would you, in
studying law, respect a book in which you would

193
WELDON JAIL.

 

ne
, over the o
slause as sound and throw
take one claus YS
t to it asa fanciful saying? ve
inly not,” said the heutenant. E
“No, certainly not, peerage A
7 it with
should you doi a,
“Then why sho de ; ual
re so many different interpret
Tk cals if God could not
he Bible, it would seem as 1f G —
1e ‘y Se
ee ‘nspired it,” was the lieutenant’s rat
it OL ded, “ one of our clergymen
- then he added, , a
ive answer ; the babes 6
seg id ‘Once settle the undoubted autl teege
‘ye i Yhristianity 1S
ag Bible and Evangelical Christianity
ible, ¢
of the
9”
- i : it by inter-
i le have tried to settle it z
Sapa hentication, which is 1m-
ion instes authentication,
pretation instead of a peg rieah C%
ible, I think. Only facts can s fd
may i authenticated.
1 by facts alone can the Bible be at eye
c -
vane’ ” said Warren, “tha
cataract + be in the same
é ; et
ated it mus
i is ever authenticate o
gag Dias ; by something out
va that as other documents, by so! Die
ay that as 2 Depa ee ;
pay If To prove the validity “
nacre s is like trying to identify
by its own contents 1s a
ment by 1b ma
, his own testi ; Oa
tage religion is jus
ei 1 says, ‘The Hebrew religi : ,
>, A
as r ions of the world, no less, bu
, . >
eat religio1 ene ihe a
vo ohuobiag Logan, bringing his tall fig
o more,” remarked Logan,
n ;

to a stop before the two speakers.
ure
(13)

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

194 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

asked Gordon. “One
and writers Says the same

e the moral condition of
professing the other re
swer enough to such

are not wilfully blind.”

“TI didn’t say I believed it,”
ginning his pe

“Do you believe that,”

of our famous New Engl

thing, but it seems to m

the countries ligions is an-

a statement, if the writers

said Logan, be-

rambulations again, “if any other
fellow wants to walk, just let me know and Yl]
stop.”

“Thank you, it gives me enough exercise just

remarked Cully,
“Stop chaffing, boys,”
ren, “I want to hear

know how, and if hee

to see you go,” r

said Lieutenant War-

Gordon talk; he seems to

an convince me the Bible
is what it pretends to be,

“Our noble lieute

I shall be honestly glad.”
nant has spoken,” replied
Cully.

“Tecan give you proofs, I think,”

said Rosco
can make you
a bridge over an
es it will bear his we
cross to the other side.”

“All right, show us
bear.”

Gordon. “I do not know whether I

aman may be shown
abyss, but unless he believ
he will never

believe ;

ight

your bridge, maybe it will

195
WELDON JAIL.

 

‘ eply.
“Tt bears me,” was Gordon’s earnest reply
7
” sai gan.
“Aye, maybe to death,” said Loge hota
_ 4
“¢ He is able to save to the uttermost,
: ” “
paste believe the Bible,” asked
“Tell me why you bell re
<j » pause the
Lieutenant Warren, breaking the pa
ieuteng
lowed Gordon’s last response. : haere
Ve ay
“Tf a document is authenticated, i
i yy any 1n-
stablishiug its facts and not by ¢
eds ai All the philosophies
terpretation of its teaching. Alt sac
i re nto ¢
f men must fall when they come 1 =
‘ all of an app s-
ith a single fact. How the fall of : anes Y:
igo Gas: ad been building
» philosophy man hac
royed the phi
troy i years! ” :
rears and years! 0 ite a
“That’s fair so far, but, now for y
said Warren. ie
“In support of what I have =
‘ i rati sar home.
1 nt on, “take an illustration nea "
\ e ap )
ordon we , a
: Declaration of Independence, unsup}
eck i mnt itself, is no
ee outside of the instrument itsell, ;
ae 7 she founders
idence really that on July 4, 1789, t Mure
evidence reé <b
f this republic adopted that instru oe
eae i ant, but its tru
istorical statement,
ake the historical
ay make t » 2 fi
t be proved by the instrument alone ee
sep ‘i ration is
, % vou see that the whole American née
don’t y

GTO PR, AEA

ee

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

196 ; f
THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

- ness } “se 9
witness to t 1e fac : oes no ou e "y e is ence

our mata celebration of the Fourth of July, tl

eg of the festival from pada: :

Sig furnish the best possible proofs to the
1at the Declaration was made?”

“ O ne .
ne can but admit a proof brought in that

way,” said Warren,

«
= Shara hea same reasoning to the writ-
ace bee ati = the constitution and

oS 3 ,—a nation still in exister

a eave it bee stated in his time that sha
wo "age n violation of every known law of
ote at at have been scattered all over
oie “ a — no citizenship for the first
ih en hundred years of the Christian era:
me het they permitted to hold property for
*e = ; be: ‘ee also foretold. Their former
“ape ase occupations were broken up.
— tes they should deal in gold and

and costly apparel. Look at them now, still

engaged as
gaged as money lenders and trading in ready

made clothing.” i
othing.” A smile passed over the faces

of his hee
earers, as Rosco Gordon stopped a moment

“The parallel is :
aay certainly an allow. ’
said Lieutenant Warren, y an allowable one,”

 

197

WELDON JAIL.

 

 

“And now,” Gordon continued, “after two

thousand years of this world-wide dispersion,
wherever you meet them you still see them eating
the Feast of the Passover in commemoration of
their flight out of Egypt.”

“How do you know, however, that God told
Moses to do the thing he did?” asked Warren,

“Do you suppose he told Moses how to write the

Constitution ?”
“T suppose He did,” was Gordon’s prompt

reply, “No other government had ever been in-
stituted like it; the sole idea of government at that
That of Moses was a republic,

time was kingly.
riously like it. I believe

and that of our own is cu
no other government but his a
naturalization of foreigners; they also refuse, as

we do, to let an alien occupy the
In the old laws at New

nd ours will allow

principal posi-

tion in the government.

Haven there is a record
at present, we will be governed

‘that not having any

laws of our own

by those of Moses.’’
«“ Where did you go to college, Gordon, may I

?

5 Aa ORE Td Opn eee PEIN,

ask?” said Warren.
“J had three years at Yale.”
“ Well, I did not mean to interrupt you. Do

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

198

THE HAVDOCKS TESTI

 

MON Y.

a ennttneeiinss

 

you think human te
facts that Moses re
corded of him ?”

stimony could establish the
ally did the wonderful acts Te-

“Tf human testimony

can be taken at all as
evidence, I

should Suppose it did evince it here.
A whole nation gave evide
and better than all perhaps, has involuntarily
carried out the prophesies made concer

But I cannot tell you half the
for yourself.”

“T will,” said Lieutenant Warr
get out of this den.

in war, makes

nee, set up monuments,

ning it.
evidences, study it

en, “if ever I
Such experiences ag one has

& man want to know what his faith

in a future existence is founded on.”

“Have- you ever read the Bible through,
Lieutenant?” asked Logan, who had ceased his
walk and stretched himself out on his bed.

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“Better begin now; I d
one,” suggested Cully.

“Tf it would make me as h
I don’t know but w

lieutenant

“ Moses’ laws are essentially in ady
some of ours,”

are say Gordon has

appy as he looks
hat I would,” responded the

ance of
said Gordon, going back to his

199
WELDON JAIL.

 

r laws
says that ‘some of ou
j “ Blackstone says t
subject.
; 9”
are still pagan. are
ae But why do people interpret the Bible '
; invalidate its
» to invalidate
y seems to me
differently? It
testimony,” said Warren. Bee ee.
ep u think the American Constitut
oe ) rave it
invalidated because the North and South ge
invalidate aus sie
ions?” asked Gordon,
i interpretations?” as
different interpre . Bespin!
“ No indeed,” exclaimed Warren, “the gre
i ”
is as 3 ever.
old government is as good as Pa
: aT's any .
“Yet the Southerners, many papa a
i 7 ~ c >
tly believe they have the right, pana _
. | writings dif-
interpreted the writing
; have interprete
to secede; they
ferently,” replied Gordon. SIRE
“And made an awful lot of t ;
a6 id G “and the
” said Gordon, “¢
So has the other,” sac
“So has tl ; wes
trouble is not nearly over y ag olay tenet
oy hhink of the res
“What do you t ‘ =
ree 3 st be more
Christ? Of course if He rose, He must *
i | ing a new sub-
” as arren, starting ¢
nit asked Warren,
than aman, ¢
¢ eR
+t of discusslo :
nf i idence of twelve men to rest
“There is the evic poe
it upon, eleven of whom were his bosom oe
le fs I ati re Di-
ee Il but one died in the attestation of t
and a

2 ”
ini i His resurrection.
vinity of Christ and

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDO

CKS’ TESTIMONY.
“They had been taught to look for His resur-
rection ; might they not have be

en deceived ?”
suggested the lieutenant.

“On the contrary, they really looked for it so
little, that it was hard to make them be
all when He did rise.

words as reg

lieve it at
They had not taken His
ully meaning anything, did not really
believe Him as much as the old offic
set a seal upon the tomb. The
the whole thing when He died
sorrowfully, saying :

lals did who
apostles gave up
and went away
‘We trusted that it had been
He which should have redeemed Israel.’ That

He was not in the tomb when M

ary went there,
tl

1e guard of a hundred soldiers testified,
bribed to hold their tongues.

had risen.

and were
They believed He
What other fact so testified to would
not be accepted by the whole world?”

“When a new hieroglyphic w

as found in
Assyria some years ago,” 1

‘emarked Logan, “four

men were set to decipher it, and when they had

all given translations that agre
it was taken to be the right th
mony are facts taken.”
“Men often die for

” ren, following out his 0

ed with one another
ing. By such testi-

their opinions,” said War-
wn thoughts.

201
WELDON JAIL, eR Ce e —

 

ini out it; they
3 he inion about it;
“The apostles had no op cen’
did not testify to an opinion, but to a lact,
2 al
ordon. ‘
plied Ge pa ae dee
“Certainly to a belief that it was a fact,
' tordon went on, bringing
lied the lieutenant. Gordon ;
pied the
up another point as testimony. Pp opeyhtie
“What country has ever advanced ”
i thristian relig-
civilization as those holding the Christ . .
: i ‘ yder anc
ion? The Chinese discovered gunpow
ion { Bait i
have never used it except in firecrac wo .
3 ver has a jun
iscovered the magnet, and never | j
discovered t 5 a
theirs crossed the sea unless it was d
ss + ‘a6 2) y A a
y sand years, exce}
istian s For two thousand }
Christian ship. ps
istianity introducec 0 it,
itry has had Christianity
country has he aia
»ven those w
‘ogress has been made, And eve
lea i ;, live so in the light
deny Christ in Christian lands, live s sa
onary ings thé xy catch @
reflected from His teachings that they ‘
sa i He: 1em-
a ink mes from
good deal of it and think it co
”
ngs is God’s revela-
‘ say that man 1s Gods
“Some people say that mé i
l t seit.
tion,” remarked Warren, half to hi ees
i ; oduce it on
“ And this revelation has produced bv
: EE Ep re BIS
in eighteen hundred years, according
perfect man in elg
M4 ”?
ir own showing.
to their own . cee) ye
“Then you don’t think God will accept us

Sot monet | SSR aC B gl an lees STE,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

202 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMON

 

Se

our own good intentions, and our efforts to do

right?” querried Warren.

“It makes very little
replied Gordon,
and if you ¢

difference what I think,”
“it is what the Bible teac
an show me that the pre
of its testimony is to that effect, I
prised. Salvation is everywhere spoken of in the
Bible as a ‘ gift,’ something that cannot be e
‘The gift of God is eternal life” ‘not as was

the offence, so is also the free gift and so on all
through.”

“*Not by works of righteousness which we

have done, but according to His mercy He saved
us,’ and age

gain, ‘for by gTace are ye saved through
faith, not of works lest any man should boast,’”

came in Logan’s voice from the other side of the
Toom ; Cully sat up.

hes,
ponderance
shall be sur-

arned,

“Are you a preacher ?

Often been on a cir-
cuit?” he asked.

“I might be a better man th
had been my profession,”

“Go on, Gordon, tell us so
The w

an I am if that
was the calm response,
me more.”

hole New Testament is tuned to the
key of redemption, and if am

immunity from sin he needs

an can gain his own
no redemption.”

203

 

id is growing bet-
“Don’t you think the world is growing
ter?” asked Lieutenant Warren. jek
in ink it is in many ways;
“T certainly do think it i: j a
‘ 3 many edu-
never at any time have there been as er . y
ss as many sensible way
ational advantages, never as many se y
a clio ' iti lower classes.
i dition of the low
lore the conditic :
of ameliorating Mdengiihe ae
Men of culture and intellect spend gos’ es:
4 ast to deal with
ime i i t how best tc
ir time in finding ou .
of their time i apg
iving radiance

3 living in the
social problems, and g "
th ilizati sy forget where the light
Christian civilization they 2 neti
ie ink that it comes from a hig

os fr hey think that 7
comes from. They SS oe
cultivation, but its true sources of life . we

i 1ere 1S
if ead in them.

d forgotten if not dead alan
and forgotter . ee
South America a beautiful moss ue é _

a ee

i igorous tree, gradually covering
‘ ye, Vigorous tree, g ,
upon a live, vig ein gaayibip=
with an exquisite velvety green growth, ¥ ee
seis i is moss the chance
time the tree is enveloped in this moss the ne ¥
ime Is Diy RO ta
f a better life is gone, for the tree 1s prac y
neta int i is ‘Matabe, mean-
; moss is ‘ Matabe,
name of this n
dead. Ther
”
ing murder. ee
. “You don’t despise culture?” asked W
; Pot ¢ oY
N indeed; don’t misunderstand me

“No, no, indeed ; i: ue Bein

hat way. We need all we can get;

slg its highest per-
have ought to be brought to its highe ’

cules ather around us

fection; all the beauty we can gather arour :

ection ;

Bo ae El Rm oles SAAT OPE

 
ii
|

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

204 THE

414 VDOCKS TESTIMONY.

all the grace and charm we ¢

an exert, the Master
wants us to use it

all in bringing souls into His
kingdom. When we meet Him we do not want

to enter His presence empty handed; don’t we
always want to take something to one we love?

be done in the world, it is
surely our loss if we are left out.”

“T beliey
self-re

His work is going to

@ in appealing to a man’s sense of
Spect to induce him to act rightly,” said the
lieutenant.

“So do I, when he has any.

Do you remem-
ber where Hawthorne m

akes one of his characters
say almost precisely what you have just said?
T given to this man of the
is, ‘just wait till you hay:
some great crime and see what
moral perceptions are in,’
long and very likely m
started me.

And the answe

moral-
reform hobby

€ committed
a condition your
But I have talked too
ade you wish you had not
Logan, sing us a song, won’t you?”
“What will you have?” responded the big
Westerner. “I'd rather hear you talk.”
““Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are march-
ing,’” suggested Cully.

“Not that,” interfered Warre

n, “it partakeg
too much of a satire.”

205
WELDON JAIL. ©

 

i i ar ell, my
“All right; then ‘Good-night, farew ;
| : i i i ( me
I ‘i rt’ or ‘The girl I left behin a
gad X 1!” continued Cully, quick
ih, that touches Gordon! saa ee oe
: =] : aLwe
i shade that darkened the brig
es Southerner, “Cheer up old fel-
S erner, ]
roung So
eye of the y g uA
; again.
7, you'll see her agal ‘insee
pis em se. Cully,” said Warren, the
“Don’t tease, Cully,

comes the stuff they call supper.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SSR RS Raia,

THE HA YDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER Xy.

UNDER FIRE,

The next morning

, Just before the hour for
drill, two soldiers enter

ed the room where Gordon
was lodged with his three friends, for by this time

they merited that name, and briefly saying: “You

are wanted,” signified to Gordon that he w

as to go
with them.

His three companions gl]
each other apprehensively ;
and shaking hands with the
“Good-by, fellows
and—I may not.”

anced at
Rosco rose to his feet
m, simply said:

» I may see you all again,

They remained silent

@ moment looking at
the door which close

d upon him and then C
as usual, was the first to break the silence.

“What do you suppose the
him?” he asked.

“Make him drill, and
him,” was Logan’s r

ully,

yY mean to do with

if he refuses, shoot
ather grim reply.

“They won’t make him drill,” said Warren,

207
UNDER FIRE. ee

 

ne V ace whi 0 . sweetness
ace 1 hich so much sw
pelt | ver saw a fi nm V a
a od determination were combinec "
] k there he is! 4 exclaimed Cul y;
rs Look, OOK, '
‘ Sté nec
fi the little window where he had statio
rom the siete
hi lf they could overlook the parade ground,
limseil, 2) ; bs : "
stance lear easly
To reat a distance to
though from too great : grea
ing on There stood the solailers,
what was going on. er hoprgrete
faded gray uniforms, formed in line ready
aqae c i, a
mo i 2 exercise Gordon stood a little in f
¥ os ed oe. ,
wage ite the captain, a big, burly Ger-
ine osite t € f
of the line Opp ir wa ee
n much rougher than a native-bor n sou ‘
man, g : . Pe
uld have been. Warren, Logan anc iy)
wo ave ee ™* sir win-
watching with strained attention from the
oi 3K Ee rOr( on
dow, saw the captain hold out a musket to G ‘
ica i G ordon made
‘| r hi O take 1t. x0
arently ordering him t
apparently i - Se dedi al
no motion to obey, evidently from his g
isse > was refusing.
swap t i ' E ke it?” exclaimed
“Oh why won't he take
, d
+
“ what ¢ ol he is.
Cully, what a fo fs ou
“ He is no fool, nor a muff either, sald Log
1e 18 Pi fe 3
Says > oreatest
cs His favorite Hawthorne Say Ss, The Bi
| ic 1 F tl or one
b Ing heroic 18 the doubt whet 1€
obstacle to be g ip a
ay not be going to prove one’s self ¢ ; :
may , : L aiales
t t heroism is to resist that doubt Gordor
rues -. s s ; or
i fe arre ooKInN
passed the doubting period, > said W arren, k

EOE Ed Rin ee EDD.

aaa

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS

TESTIMONY.
ar algae co

out across the bare field at the troops,

of a hero than any man I ever met, and I can do
nothing to help him in this emergency,” the last
words escaping him almost like
moan as he turned from the w
paced up and down the room.

“he is more

an unconscious
indow and restlessly

“Oh, Warren, they have tied his arms behind
him and stood him by himself; cried Cully again.

“Confound them all,” ejaculated Logan, leay-
ing the window and then going back, sickened by
the apprehension of seeing a murder and yet too
facinated to Stay away. Erect and graceful stood
the slight young figure; no sign of fear or shrink.
ing did they See, NO Movement even when the six

men were called out from the ranks and ordered
to level their rifles at him, only a look upward

and apparently a motion of the lips, but the men
did not fire; after an instant’s hesitation every one:
of his weapon fall to the
The captain stamped and with

dered them

let the muzzle ground.

angry gesture or-

again to fire on the solitary figure with
its indefinable attitude of waiting. Cully

his face and shivered, liste
?

“Why don’t they fire,’
horrible.”

covered
ning for the shots,

> he exclaimed, “it ig

UNDER FIRE. 209

 

“By jove, they won’t!” exclaimed Logan, as
FIG j pli
i yer , skets
ain the Southern soldiers lowered their mu
age ȣ dogs 04 9
: 1 stood still. The captain in a rage pulled out
and stood still. siamese
i six men, i
his pistol and aimed it at one of the six
1 fire and he flung it on the ground, com-
missed fire ¢ sehen
in s ‘ious a voice that
manding them to shoot in so furious a ve >
> "pa
é he ears of our three
, tones reached t :
the angry tor Pophitc F
tching friends. Two of the men raised t
ye | only »w them
ifles for the third time, but suddenly threw .
; . i ranks, followed by
i joined the ranks, folle J
urning rejoined
down and turn ' . shtebet
the other four men. An irrepressible cheer b
ree Northerners
from the little window where the three Northerr
ror ; wy oo
tood and Gordon turned his head in their d
f izl athy ex-
i p zing the sympathy
tion, evidently recognizing y edi
ssed. Two soldiers then went up and le
pressed. s -
; uway to the rear of the barracks, and the cé ‘
sae | rith the drill.
tain sulkingly gave orders to go on with ' 0
“ He'll see the girl he left behind him, ye
, “ .
ing a pige jing. “It is
exclaimed Cully, cutting a pigeon wing aps
oreakfas whey
lucky our guard has gone to breakfast, or they
ucky ¢ ) .
make us pay for our hurrah. sis
7 y you do go on!” saic
“Be still, Cully, how you g .
W i ff the
arren, who could not as easily throw o
just wit-
ne he had just w
feeling of horror at the sce

nessed.
(14)

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“He is safe
what will happen next.”
“The Master he
Logan’s deliberate

to save.’”

serves is no weak one,”
voice ;

“And Gordon seems to trust Him entirely,

Seeing such faith as his; believing, yet not igno-
rant, or perhaps believing because not igno-
rant, is more convincing th
arguments in the world,”
his thoughtful walk up
quarters.

an all the theories or
and Warren resumed

and down his narrow

None of the three ever

saw Rosco Gordon
again for he was kept in

Separate confinement til]
sent to another regiment. So our lives meet, and
a little s
again ; and whether we h

run beside each other pace, and separate

ave used our opportuni-

ties for good or evil may never be known on this

side of Heaven.

Instances of the

kind related in these chapters
occurred over and over

of Friends during the

again in the experience

war. The men refused to
carry out the orders of the

could not shoot or maltre
as these Quakers

ir captains, saying they
at such unresisting men

» Who would uphold their princi-

this time, but we do not know

said
“‘he is abundantly able

211
UNDER FIRE.

 

f i ficers
ples even unto giving up va life. ee
ct not perpetrate orueliies thenias st ay
ret they ordered their men to 2 anc . wth
a times some Friends did suffer, yet rie hae
5 siiaes preserved. But why do . rt fon 4
rellously ?” For has He not aaescuers: mye
He not able to perform? Others weston be
Biihillinaed to orders, but a Quaker memes.
Not knowing what to do vite oe ph!

ientiously refused to obey ny
as ost ae them from a cricket ot
ae ‘ ferring to put the responsibility on ees
one in his turn would age ee ec
this ame it happened that pendence : nse

‘eoiment to which James Haydoc
tas ak hen he was taken away from

sen ordered whe ‘ iy ; ,
are soon after the events described in our
gers ae eve of a battle that Rosco ar-
eae aie with the fresh so ecienes 002 a

strengthen the Southern army a :

acme battalions, now closing in we sea
hem. A few months more would _ the er :
cia cuggle. Rosco had been left very much
came im last, as the colonel
to himself since we saw him last,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYVDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

of his regiment was too busy to

attend to him, and
besides he

did not care to come into conflict with
the willing, active young fellow who was alw
ready to do a good turn for every
ing after he arriy
called to him,

ays
one. The morn-
ed in camp, a soldier he knew

“Rec’on there’s one of y

your kind in that tent
there.

I was loafing round last night,

and caught
sight of him.”

Gordon immediately w

ent to the tent indi-
cated.

He saw a tall figure lying on a blanket
and approached with a pleasant “Good-morn-
ing.”

“ Roseo Gordon, surely,’

’ was the quick excla-
mation as James Haydock sprang to his feet.

“Oh, Mr. Haydock, how glad, how very glad,
I am to see you; how I have hoped to find you,”

the older man was holding his hand and gazing
intently at him.

“They are all well at home,” w
seeing he could not speak.

dock, you do not look well

time of it, haven’t you?”
“Tt has been h

Lord has never

ent on Rosco,.
“Sit down, Mr. Hay-
; you have hada weary

ard to bear at times, but the
forsaken, and many a time has.

3
UNDER FIRE, at

 

‘ id thee
sled me to be of use to others. How d
enabled m wise
n uni ?
are, and not 1
i same reasons you are, Mr.
“T am here for the same j . :
se Tes no
Haydock, and on account of those reasons do
aydock, ¢ si tos
b arms.” said the young man, smiling. eee
ear a Ss, 8 7 a ee oie thet
“What about thy father? yy se
»s Haydock, with no -
i »?” asked James Hay
with thee?” as
. eYN »} e.
dence of surpris xi ak
“Qh, he does not agree with me entire y ;
ki very effort to raise the wherewitha .
is making ever) pi
he Exemption tax. I objected, but of ec
the Iixe1 a ar Sepia te twits
i ions oor father,
ot control his actions.
cannot contro poh ee
hard to leave him and harder to k1
very har 2g sophia a els
I f lt about not having money enoug pay
he felt <
”
the tax. ee pH
“Thee said all my family were well a
ee i :
dock asked, his thoughts
suffering?” James Haydo
* pep st
returning to those he loved best. ee
i eat ¢
vith enough to
“All well, and w !
. icket ; s. Haydock
rry as a cricket; Mrs. Hay
: as merry as a ;
wear; John vee
> yery anxious about you, but keeping uy
naturally very an2 pO tt
b heart. I wish you were wit No
i aie y e dark hair
added, noting how much grayer nl f
3 ; i m cheek was, anc
had become, how thin the brown chee 2 as,
; » dark blue eyes.
how deep the hollows about the dark .

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

214 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

__

A sudden fear took possession of him that the h

life was telling sorely on the strength of James
Haydock, and that he might not be
it much longer.

ard

able to bear
“Oh, if he can only live
home!” was the prayer th

“T wish so indeed,”

to get
at rose in his heart.
said James Haydock, in
answer to Rosco’s last remark.

“Mr. Haydock, why don’t you go North, if
you can get through ?” asked Gordon.

“Run away,” queried the older man.

“There is no running away about it,”

said
Gordon.

“You believe in and uphold the Uni

nion ;
you are with troops who don’t think as you do,

ith what you
Your health is failing ;

any good to your country staying
here? Will you not do more in say

and why are you bound to stay w
consider the wrong side?
are you doing

ing yourself
ar is over?”

“T have thought that perhaps my
the army was over,” replied James Haydock.

“But I do not like going to live in quiet in the
North, while my family

the old home.”

to build up the country after the w

time with

is suffering privation in

“Your family would be only too glad to know
you were safe; it would take aw

ay their heaviest

215
UNDER FIRE. ui

fe i ye {yances Hay-
bur len id and he told him of W hat } Ye +
e fe ¢ s is id to row
d k h * Ss rid addin x “no man 1s bout ( C t bes
ni 7 ' 4 early shows 1t 18
if AWay ul less the Lord cle arly § Ss 5
his life é c in : i : ws
His ill Do you think He W ants y ou Sté
1s Wl. Ss {
l r ot 9”)
sie | 0 t ‘ the re 1as b on lat ly a
“ No d no ’ re | Ss ; ‘ eo 2 to
| 5 i sti co ze i
1 i i direction. I ig .
inting in the othe ; ai @
A ‘ ser 1 l own su pplies for those su -
: < senda ao ns Ss ses ft :
he North and ‘ 8 | Arege
s 1g ut h 1e I believ e 1t would be r 1g ht ti lc Ss
; c | os . } £ i Lose id not als-
i aeep } 0 , W. ich Osco al ‘i
He sat it 1 7} t, 1 y W h 2% | ‘ ‘ 3 1
if LOW 1e uakers tr ust t t 3
vive Ow tl Q | |
turb know ing , eee h 4y were
; y ; the Spirit, and how arelu ) V
leading of , f ] t re te

ss they
i i rtant unless
to do nothing impo
gmat onite | mp all was bustle and con-
side, in the ca é
earns vas silence and an
‘on: in one little tent there was sile . ”
eset ki for God’s leading. Upon this
st seeking :
earnest seeking Deegan
i broke the heavy sound of cannon, 3
silence bro ge adel: thes
lowed by the scream and bursting of —
a y a corpor ooker
; le had begun. Presently a corpora
battle hac i
into their tent, weg ais: yen te?
; company ; :
“ Byery man to his *
oi » shortly,” and he disap-
T’ll have you sent for, shortly,
1é : in a few min-
1. Four other soldiers came in a
red.
peare

aced in
separe ed and placed ll
? j 3 were S¢ parate
5 ir friends

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

216 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

different parts of the field.
the front Rosco Gordon saw
and cloud of the conflict, a t
at once recognized, walk
Confederate ranks
the rain of bullets.
heart one praye

through the smoke
all figure which he
deliberately out from the
and quietly cross the field amid

Gordon held his breath, his

rto God. A momentary ce

ssation
seemed to come

in the quick volleys, and be
uin the familiar form had reached
unhurt the Federal side, passed to the rear of the
crowding troops, and Rose

fore
the y began age
d .~ f=)

© Gordon knew that

an probability be-
yond the reach of further danger,

But the Quakers were
parts of the north

James Haydock was in all hum

misunderstood in some
as well as in the south,
James Haydock was sent to F
prisoner of war. He was detained there some
time till the authoritie

and
ort Delaware as

$ in Washington were noti-
fied of his imprisonment, wh

en he was promptly
released

and allowed to join his children in Phila-
delphia, some of whom had already gone to Nor-
folk to obtain tidings from their parents, or if
possible to get through the lines to aid them.
This was not practicable, however, until after
* Richmond had fallen,

From his place near

JINGO.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
JINGO.

More monotonous now than ever were the
or », Gordon
Jays to Molly and her mother. Mr. G :
sis s wife was very i
brought them word that his wife w fe ) :
oie x1 spells of weakness
ming to have prolongec S} §
see
whi ar relieve.
ye vere hard to . .
hich w ; : tosco all the time, we do
“She worries after Rosco ¢
: | i > day. “Miss
miss him so much,” he said one day.
A i i + you? ave
Molly, you miss his help too, don’t you? He
is f wood? There always seems to bea
’ mnty of wood: . j
you ple
eg ”
fire here. ee
Y y ave a good supply o
“Yes thank you, we have a goc pr |
2 } , ch tal
Ww isk S 2 piled up to « ry,
rood. Father always kept some | I hs
“ones and Igo
1 then for small wood and cones, John ar g
anc s sh
‘e are qué les.
to the swamp, where there are quantitie i
a a 9» ae y t 1e ol¢
“Ts it not a good way to go?” aske
i ? 18 ad.
gentleman laying his hand on the girl’s he
Cae ik valk and it keeps me busy ;
“Oh no, I like the walk a ;

° chee
y é and think too much.

iti ; to stay at home a

itis not good j k

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“No, that it is not; but think
won’t you, and pray he
said wistfully, “I have

about Rosco,
may get home safely,” he
a deal of faith in your and
your mother’s prayers.”

“That is not a h

ard thing to do, Mr. Gordon,”
said Molly softly,

a faint blush steali
cheek ; he smiled at her, h

ing of how m

ig over her
aving some understand-
atters were and ye

t not knowing
quite what had passed between

“the young folks,”
ad, and faded awa y en-
1ces Haydock

rand spend the night

do you think?
deal to ask, I know, Mrs. H

seem to comfort her

woman about.

But the smile was rather s
tirely as he turned to Frat

“Could you come ove
with Mrs. Gordon, It is a good
aydock, but you do
so much and she longs for
Rosco was just like a d
ays, and yet a fine manly fellow
“Molly, would thee be afr

aid to stay alone
with John,” said Frances Haydock, turning to her
daughter.

a
aughter in
too.”

some w

“No, indeed, mother, no one will hurt us and
there is certainly nothing to

attract burglars,”

“TI think I might leave them, and if it is

any
comfort to thy dear wife, I am more than willing

to go.”

219
JING O.

 

 

illi adam ? might
“Can you ride pillion, madam? I
vey, but it is so rickety. My
have brought the buggy, bu yi:
yes re € y 3
horse is quiet enough, he doesn’t get any
norse is { §
e oa n) rob i:
now-a-days, poor fellow, to frisk o1 en ps
wets Pore”? as tH rances
“T have ridden double before,” said Fra
fod i 40 action oO
Havdock, smiling a little as the recollec 4
aydaock, § £ sa wert
; ack to her mind.
‘ly days came back
her early days se
J : sweet-faced Quakeress s J
sarried the sweet-fe vl
Gordon carried —
venue, any a vis
his horse along the avenue, and man) ~
on ‘ sis: Ais gllaiaiaaden aii
did sl nake afterward in like manner, t “ g
cabal v8 eart of poor Mrs.
weary heart of 7
fort ¢ yeace to the )
comfort and
Gordon. é eG
“Molly, come take a walk, I want a 8
miei i ing but slee
to do, and the squirrel will do nothing bu P,
o do, he :

said John. Waa?
i > last night,” rey
“He is making up for le g

slock and
“He raced up and down the old clock ¢
> Te
nt tnuts about till I thought he would
d chestnuts ¢
dro yped ches ; phon ou '
- row tired. I swept upa regular little heat
never gt k ar
of the shells this morning. meinen
c é ce € AY
ings the clock make a g
“The carvings on k k
a jolly e nest
der for him. Did thee see what a jolly littl
ehis | ck between those
he has made on the top of the clock betweer :
1e has made moda om
t lover leaf things that curve over tows
wo ¢ ,

9»
each other ?

 

eer ne

Spa ORS NE: iy EE Cl REP OR TPE,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

looking up at the

the broad-faced
atch over the slow tick-
“It is fortunate our clock winds at
the back instead of the top, as many do.”

“Yes,” said John, “ bunny might interfere

With the works in that case,”
“Let us take thy wagon

ight wood; ours is giving

“No, has he?” said Molly
dark  scroll-work surmounting
moon that kept smiling w.

ing hours.

and bring home some
out.” John had con-
agon some three fe

]

cocted a Marvellous w

and two wide, and set it on four still more re-
markable wheels, whose broad tires we
with a view to easy
It held quite

et long

re planned
going over the sandy
& quantity of cones or bits of light

S much legs fatiguing than a bag
slung over the shoulder,

cashmere shaw] Over her by

hind, and covering her dusky hair with a blue
riding cap, pronounced herself r

“Did thee find th
stairs?”

roads,

wood, and wa

Molly crossed a red

ast, knotting it be-

eady for a tramp.
at red thing
asked her brother, surye
ingly. “Thee looks like a vivandiere;” and in
truth the dark blue and red suited Molly’s h
and eyes remarkably well,
Wind was blowing as t

in the chest up-

ying her approy-

air
A keen November
hey walked rapidly along

221
JINGO. saa to

the road to the swamp, and Molly’s ae ak
s rosy as her brother’s when they as “i my
ot ques a mile in from the ceria y 4 :
mates morass, where they found the light woo
rans, —
: ann eres marches of the are
n some mien:
armies through this ioc e ices ae
arge tracts of timber burnt ¢ mg t dine
i ee tree-trunks, rising oven: barns:
the cinder-covered ground, gave ¢ a wei
cribable dreariness to the scene. T - pitt
swept over this desolate country had, how : sie
ae : cypress boles untouched, and er & 7 ia
ie ave spectres amid the tat vegeta
that stretched as far as eye ig en 4 sa
The days were growing frosty. ne sei
ice was even now forming upon many “ vid Mi
ls, shooting clear needle-like crystals sn =
nt 0h black water. All the summer birds
Oe and nothing stirred in meter
tir a black turkey-buzzard slowly uct ‘
re st along the canal. It Pag i
crooked tree not far from where Molly oe ‘at
sido and watched them askance. Molly s

dered.

 

 

Bing ABS Le Eh EE 2

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS TESTIMONY.
SSE rai

 

“Come John, hurry and fil] the wagon, I
don’t like this place, it is lonely.”
“Tt is not remarkably cheerful,” answered her
brother, “ especially on a cloudy afternoon.” He
went quickly to work with his sister and they
soon filled the little wagon to overflowing.

“Now that’s enough.

Hey, oh look, there
comes some darkies

» or rather they
they are standing still, let’s go

matter?” said John,
cated were

don’t come,
and see what is the
The group of negroes indi-
gathered around some object th
on the ground a few yards distant,
nearer, Molly saw that a
old was stretched
weak to go

at lay
On going
little boy about ten years
along the roadside see
any further
him with much pe

mingly too
; the older ones regarded
rplexity.
“Ts he sick?” asked John
man whose sh

tle black eye

» addressing an old
Assy gray brows almost hid the lit-
*S beneath them,

Y sick, an’ what to do fo’
it, sah, is pas’ my compre’nsion, Spec’ sum ’un
ought’er tote ‘im, but it ain’t bery easy fur to do
air mighty strong now.” He
wind.

dat, an’ none on us
shivered in the cool

John did not think they w

ere very strong, in-

JING O~. ~

 

d ed iret V I 1 th > boy
i i al d © VY)
: yomen, t 118 old mah ”
f oa ] a me } art gz ing tc La 5 | Nort, as t 1ey
I ( e i > par Yy YOING ) e i 3Y
or © >
Sé i : b lon y to He asked Molly .
V h lo 28 he e 5 : 5 . "
| ( a as . b niss S; bofe his fader
age 4 no ody,1 1ssus ’ | >)
tf long to aan
an 1 : 3 € i : dan a year back, I ey €
p 1 ig ef’ ‘Im mo € . ‘ ’
one a ; ¢ : I tuk eare on 1m, an e
“an
f omen, €
e@ O1 the W : ‘ply se
W lle rs a *bligi 1g little plc ieee ? | ut I W ill
auger nm : | fi ’ how.
say | l [ i dun 10 V
Ce tink e Pees
edie : ; . . | k = | "k ng right bravely ’ said
H y Jun walkec ) § 5 5 ) tuk
t 1 | z . 5 spea £ ai i b t de Tey ers U
i ry agaln yu
3 fe kin Jy ag fT sean
“8 : : ae nt sa 1 in’ n The little fellow lay
[ re ckon ’e’s aay . d i, a
4 aes ; |
’ F y i Po °] thin hanc u 5
i I ing one l € . 1
1 7, OnLy ) : ae a yo
; cne k as if the road felt lar , t | -
in | | >} 2a as ii ' | sit ;
‘ np t a8 tc a sick he gro 1a
] rTay tint hat comes ) : x6
iar ashy gre J ee! |
Sf a yer his small visage and the lac : 7
spreé d OVE ‘ ma to 10 re, exc I
] k« 1 dull ; he sho wed no wish iy V Ap ’ “
W <t2 t : I it s V rit rs once JO,

O } zzard fla yped 1ts Wl 1g IT t . ”

: : sea f i I t © id then settled down aga
as i rity i 4 lig 1 ly al ~) i
as intending 5 % lee l
on its I ] ne k perch A look of apprehe sie I *

: sek > 7 bird an 16
I y’ 3 eyes as he saw the ugly
i ? | yy s eyes
into t 1e D6 Ss Ss Ss g | | d I
. ] sAyV Ss mething. i
3 te ‘ t j I ul ‘'4 stoopll 4 over him
a at is i ty said N 0 iS 1g V
to catch the faint words. te ae
71 1 g it at me fo I 1e.
sf: Don’ let rn = d

 

 

 

Ate

PR ihc SEL EE

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.
ee ee anal et

 

“Molly’s eyes fil]
to her brother, who, u

thought, impulsively
little wagon.

ed with tears, as she turned
nderstanding her unspoken
tipped the wood out of his

“Bless you,” he said, “he shan’t get you,
dead or alive ; we'll take you home Ww
Molly nodded and John brought the w
to the boy,

ith us.”

agon close

“May we take him home ? ”

she said to one
of the women.

“May de Lawd bless yo’; its a mighty kind
thing to do now. Jin

£0, will yo’ go wid de young
Missis ?”

Jingo slowly brought his failing eyes round
to Molly, and whispered, “ Yes,”

Molly untwisted her red
in the wagon, and the old man laid the child

gently upon it. John took off hi
covered the little fellow.

shawl, spread it

“Oh, don’ do dat, you will all take col’,” re-
monstrated the woman.

John laughed. « Exer-
cise will keep us warm, and he needs it more than
we do.”

“Did you call him Jingo ?” said Molly.
“Yes, missis, he dun call his

se’f dat. Good-

225
JINGO.

 

 

EE ) ‘i
ri <e yo’ well bye
‘noo, I trus’ de Lawd will make yo ,
agin x 2 ‘oked the curly hair
: bve.” and the woman stroke
un bye,” ¢
off the hot forehead. deg y=!
it is getting
“Come, John, " sagt
i ; an ass
1-k uncle,” Molly said to the old m
- Te y j
good-bye,
turned away. ‘ ae
“ Good-bye, good-bye, God bless } et
1 where they will sleep to-night‘
“ 7 der . sie ia
ie the group of tired rag
id John looking back at the g ~—
rn te 3 ir scanty parcels of fo
i r scanty pé
eroes bearing thei ati
PAR AEE “ i ighead They walked slowly
; ing with t ' ; 9a wn
and clothing say gst
al the gray road, on and on, I i phi
along ore hi iis
wie | ul creeping between inter
. 4 " , né a .
sluggish ca ai is wing th
‘les f blackened and ruined tre as
re lowly away into the gathering
‘ose and flew slowly awa) ! sp
ard rose an¢ ' ‘ bear
i Poor souls! many of them pee
caaap i ite devoid of the
th cold and forbidding, and quite servi
north ec € 4 | tl 5. fanov hac . 4
i thie veir fancy
ious he with which
glorious halo
“ounded it. feeail i Mae
? Molly and John walked homewar : si
sVLO. i ™ . rideecnkt wirhed
itte oo lay very §
their load permitted, Jing : labs"
in the wagon; John thought he was as 4
oe » view the du eyes
: he stooped for a closer view the a
te ail i igence in them
t his with a little more intellige
met his

than John had seen before.
(15)

 
 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

“Are you comfortable, J ingo ?” he asked. The
parched little lips formed the word, “ Yes,” but so
weakly that John and Molly were thankful] when
they reached the house. Twilight had closed
around them and Molly was shivering a little
spite of the active exercise she had taken.

John carried the waif in and placed him on

a thick comfortable that Molly laid before
fireplace. A match Was applie
cones, and soon there w
Molly found most chee

“He looks like
John surveying

in

the
d to the pile of
asa crackling fire, which
ring with its dancing light.
a cone himself,” remarked
Jingo as he laid him down, “
of those long gtay ones, doesn’t he?”

a cushion under the limp little head.
“Does that feel good. Jingo ?”
“Yes,” and the mite stre

feebly. Molly smiled.

“That stretch is
him yet.

one
Molly put

she asked.
tched his limbs out

a good sign; there is life in
Now Ill warm some mil

“Molly, Pll s

acquisition,
comfortable where he is, don’t thee

better leave him there ?”

“he seems go
think we had

227

 

”
; is gol sleep
‘I think we will; look, he is going to
| is xd had much
d indeed the warm milk and soft be ee
an - ,
freshed the weak, weary little frame, ¢ spt
refreshe reary “ -
wrapped him in its kindly influence wo
soon .. set
ing found him much better; and ple ¥* “2
cae ici loses of quinine
i ith j ious doses
k with judic Digi a
ake and mil ans ; pope
c a 1 set Jingo on his feet again rani
ew days 5 ra "
; b ne a source of amusement to t
soon became a § ri
i i 4 he squirrel.
| imams b ; three weeks after Jingo
é ‘ n abou foci
One afternoo teagan
q aydock fe )
» of the Hay :
a member o,
rotamer ixing the bannock for
citchen mixing the
vas in the kitchen “0
Molly was in a a
‘ Jingo sat on the floor near
supper. g woe
ants with inte
i xr movements oo
yatching her , ays eR iat
4 Jingo,” she said, “can’t you fi
wd " 9”
three more eggs in the rae ana
; ~, ry U
“Oracky, Miss Molly, ah decor
kin’ so onexpected, I was Jes
spea

’ r Ie -

ith ches’nuts an’ now look,

reedy squirrel with ches’nuts a .

so ’em all,” and Jingo looked re-
he’s dun grabbed ’em all,

y was
-y big chestnut that Bunny
y ata very big «
gretfully a

I apidity of a pres-
twisting and turning with the rapidity of aj
wisting ¢ sig ne
tigiator, in his little pink claws. ian

“ “You wanted that one yoursell, ¢ pale
. i ‘I wonder how
Jingo?” ask Molly, laughing. “T won

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

228

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

many the squirrel has gotten
£0 look for the eggs.”

“Sartain,” said Jingo, turning a summerset
out of the kitchen door. The squirrel, startled by
the sudden movement, stuffed the
cheek and scrambled up
bush that ornamente
or two Jingo re

anyway? Come,

big nut in his

a branch of burning

d the dresser. In a second

turned, popping his head into the
doorway with the anxious questions,

“Do yere t’ink dat old hen’s safe ?”

“Safe? Why isn’t she safe?” asked Molly,
turning to look at the boy.

“Safe to lay, I fancy he means,” remarked
John coming in at that minute, “is that u.
Jingo ?”

“No, sah,” answered Jingo, solemnly, “ When
I histed her tail feadders up yesterday to ‘quire
as to whedder she dun lay any eggs, she didn’t
’preciate de pint an’
f

’cipitated herse’f into my
ace, screamin’ nuff to brung all de
down ’pon us.

sodgers right
I ’clare I was so s’prised I jess sot
plum down on a heap o’ hay.”

“And stayed there ;
doubt,” said Molly.

some eggs right aw

1 half an hour, I don’t
“Jingo, if you don’t get me

ay, you shall not have any
corncake for supper.”

229
JINGO.

PE eL tee seemed SS

b
i 7 yer won’t say
“Qh, my gracious, Miss Molly, yer we : me
wae i vanished before
re. vanishec
Jat!” and the small black figure vanisl ee
John 1 e ha
: > cone he
John had time to throw after him the cor :
) : aughed anc
icked up for that purpose. John laug
pie
remarked, oa
“ Jingo is getting spoiled, Molly. ee
Ny P 4 a , Og .
“Well, we'll unspoil him sometime ;
’ :
» improved.
young enough to be 1m} a ec
Mrs. Haydock just then entered the
WLTS. ad 5 ee. ; ERS
Molly, here are two soldiers wanting so
“Mo y, + q
” ods
ing to eat,” she said.
vsapetee: bye to my nice corn-bread.
“Oh, dear, good-bye .

€ ne | al t panful =) -) c ( h
1tl ul ust baked, An 1 t e
I h we one e

”
FAV ‘or the rest ,
eggs gave out fo ee
“Hush, don’t even suggest we oo
“Hush, £2 fant
i r hens next; are
id John, “they will want our hens
sac , , .
s or gray, mother ?
they blue coats or gray, etd oind
” said his mother, taking
“Gray,” said his ’
ee @ part of it
golden brown corn-bread, and putting f
es ied i » living room.
late which she carried into the living :
on a plate , tte ipo
Jol i ok in the pot of chicory coffee, and a lit
ohn to
i > of milk
yitecher of milk. !
’ s well get it over and let them
“We may as well g seh
1 ; € Tyrur ¥ > 3, Oo ry (8) *
go,” he remarked, making a wry face y
?

lowed to keep him in order.

 
THE HAVDOCRKS TESTIMONY.

“Milk, eh ?” said one of the men,
have a cow about, she’ll be
back to our men;
Old, is she ?”

 

231
JINGO,

 

 

 

;; at last they
- search of the cows; at last they
id rise and go in seé
You must

just the thing to carry

rose.
after supper we'll go get her.

 

t that cow be-
ade, we must get that
“Come, comrade,

 

{ re orows any dé ker ou ma ome W a U
s 1 ay ; y Y y cor 1th us
ore C

sho hesi-
; os » John, who
if you like,” he said, turning = :
1 ’ : . er pale.
J " rather pe
‘ose, looking
ated and then rose, ackyard, I sup-
a show tate ed is the way out to the backya 7
‘ “ This 18 the € sale the kitchen.
Image. No answer was returned to the men by 5
any of the family, and presently John rose and
was going softly out, w
soldiers spoke,

John looked despairingly

at Molly, whose
face had about

as much expression in it as

 

: : throu
yose,” the man said, going out is it? Well, such

og barn’s burnt down, 1s It! Sig (tee:
. iis our c . ¥ < . stable se i,
hen the bigger of the two here’s a little stable,

 

 

° . 1
things will happen ; oh, lowed by John who was
| and he went toward it followe en. He had en-
you? You é door open.
at cow away where we
Don’t any of you le

“No, you don’t ; just sit still, will
shan’t go and sneak th
can’t find her.

till we have se

i see the
rather surprised to see t

shelter the
as . der to shelte1

has i lding 1n ore

‘ arged the little bul ~ ‘ampled
ave this room larged lect from tram}

arched the premises,” and he drew
his pistol out and laid it beside him.

small figure appeared just then
door holding up aw

hand ; luckily

‘ - thev were able to co ou aa
pen et and Mr. Gordon eet itt

Jingo’s more hay. The men now proceedec (0 Ins

at the kitchen pi

hite egg in each little black

the soldiers were facing the other

way and neither saw him, or Molly’s

ing gesture to him not to speak ;

the whole situation at a gl

rather rickety structure.

”»
J <eep the cows,
» where do you kee}
“Come now,

an roughly.
: ed the man,
swift warn- ask

res, you can’t help seeing
“Tf you have any eyes; )
comprehending

1, hotly. :
” returned John, 2 is nothin
’ pee “ them,” re ertheless, there is nothing
ance, the black sprite «“T don’t see any nevertheless,
cut a noiseless pigeon wing and vanished as

; rib.” Much
alters tied to the crib
: t broken halters , » ends of the
silently as he had come. The men were leisurely ae John went in and lifted the ends 0
in eating their supper, the lookers-on thought they ean?

stable, certainly no
he gazed around the stable, ce

| es aze
would never finish and yet dreaded to see them ropes,

animals were there.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

32

THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

“I know no more about it th
said, quietly turning to the men.

“You look like you mean wh
plied the man after looking
“Well, fortune has fz
cows

an you do,” he

at you say,” re-
at him a moment.
‘vored you this time; your
are saved for the next fellow that ec
along, but our men will g0 supperless to bed un-
less some other of the fora
cessful.”

omes
gers are more suc-

“It is a poor country to forage in,” returned
John, his good humor restored by the absence of
the cows.

“You say true,” returned the small

er of the
men, “we don’t wish

to clean out the peoples’
stock, but our men must have supplies.”

“Tt seems we don’t get

any here; those cows
may be miles aw

ay if they break their halters and
clear out like that; it is too dark to go after them
how,” and rather sulkily the m

an marched around
the house

and down the road followed by
panion, who, however, stoppe
their supper.

his com-
d to thank John for

“T reckon your mother wouldn’t care to see
us again,” he remarked, smiling.

“T don’t suppose she would,” returned John.

233
JING O. rg —

C » e
H ran 1 1e house 10t o casually as | °]
I to tl e ] use, I 1¢1 ig ca
i ‘ ’ | | > | aga 5
t ut 1 hea 0 b ) le 1 1 +
yassed he c | eap ish lled up ¢ : e
| L k of th ] } ouse to dry, had tumbl “d do ; 5
< a , } c a ting pé S-
ross th > loc rw hich 0 yened into 1 sl nting :
a ft . roun a ,
5 J ¢ t a I e ) t t 3
4 int ) he Ce
sage u ining . ;
be ck yf the house fell away from the fr t eva-
| | us a € ’
ute a qua 1 ) ) )
tion and ( > ar y ¢ f the | rush né d allel
] king tl > ent [e 7] ympletely .
+ rance CO
; My I t | agaln to-! 10) IW, 1e
if I ) it 1 up Le L
ust 18 41 n ti | 3
£ | é | t el | urst Ing int th 10US y ex-
ATIC a) 5 5 0
thoug yy € e I

claimed. Gs
“ Mother, the cows are go! pt eRe
have taken them *¢
“The men have
ised at his tone.
i surprised at Me fern
oo he T mean they have run away,
ig 10 f j
No, no, est
i > stable. ni
were not in the table,” cried Molly, “but
] » stable, hie
“Not in the s theses
fe) .
ue he cellar door opening into the he
the celle a a dats i ‘
tl unlatched at this instant
y> :

how”
room qule e of Jingo peered cau-
6 enance af
ack count
small ble

ene “ough. F is
ge ,2” he inquired, taking a su
“Dem men gone!

y c € ‘4 yj ( it as he sav

V of tl room, a ( adv ancl 1g nto saw
1e ‘ »° n l I l it 1

ee y rere yy

no strangers were ther e.

y © a in.
al Jo
The ire gone, Jingo, sa d | I

 
 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS? TESTIMONY.

 

“Didn’t get de cows, did
“Did you let. them out?” exclaimed John, a
light breaking in on his mind, “ you deserve a

silver med ed you do; but how far

al, Jingo, inde
did you drive them 2
“Didn’t drive ’em fi

ar, Massa John; de
de sullar, tought dey
night,” said the

y’s in
’s cotch cold bein’ out all
boy, going to the fire.

‘“ Why you’re all wet, Jingo,” said Molly, “just
dripping.”

“Spee’ I am, Miss Molly; Massa John did
tell me part of de ‘lantic oce

an run troo de sullar,
but I didn’t honestly ’blieve him an’ go I tumbled
in. Goin’ to ’blie

ve ebery single ting he tell me
after dis,” Jingo always had had rather a hor-

ror of the dark cellar, which John encouraged,

fearing he might be tempted to help himself to
the milk which was kept there;

been in it before ; taking this hor
it was all the more laud

so he had never

ror into account,

able of Jingo to venture
in to save the heifers,

“Well, I suppose I h
out now. Did you put
cellar door too, Jingo ?”

“Yes, sah,

ad better get the cows
all that brush over the

it was mighty hard creepin’ troo

235

JINGO. ”

Ea

Parad dey
t, but I was so afeared dey
at,

s after d alk to
to get de cows after was dere to talk t

would holler less some one |

‘
ae ‘rea treasure,” said Molly. aks
Se ee shall have a bit of suga
nae, fis little lump sugar was
a ver)

‘ot dri
now and get d

to-night,” for a little, Haydock for great emer-
“st , Frances 1a}
still kept by

soc like this.
gencies, like t

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fad

THE HAYD OCKS’ TESTIMONY.

i

CHAPTER XVII.

THE WAR CLOUD LIFTs.
As the short winter days set in and many a
pt Molly from the walks that
o her
girl lost, a little of the

stood her in such good stead through this long
time of trial. Nothing had been
either her father
weeks.

cold storm of rain ke

were such a relief t anxious thoughts, the

bright energy that had

heard from
or Rosco Gordon for
From time to time
them of friends who h
severely for their adhe
ples.

many

accounts came to

ad suffered more or less
Tence to their peace
The families left
increased

princi-
at home were feeling the
scarcity of provisions, and some, though
unequal to the task, were compelled to walk eight
or ten miles to the ne;

arest town to get the rations
served out to those who were in actu
Corn-meal and potatoes
Haydock’s dwell

fare.

al want.
still held out in Friend
ing, but it was monotonous
The discouraged hens, only two of which
remained, gave up laying, probably hoping for

237
THE WAR CLOUD LIFTS.

 

é gh Molly
things in the spring, and althoug
better thing

air of very
it was a pair of
lid all she could for them, it w - oie
aes i ; that sat Ww
i okens the
: igo lly went to

yeless looking st nie
we the top of the stalls when w be
ails on the esata
aa he heifers. The supply of mi eb est!

ee <ful for what Ss
milk ing, but Molly was thankful e pee
sssenns ip? ae
lesse ; 5) had and would occasional) ae
. . ta t c ° " re j
a ith some neighbor m¢

‘re store with ‘
meagre sto
smselvyes.

stricken than themsely

inued

- Gordon contin re ugh
Mrs. Gordo - 1g about her son, for althoug
anxious

i mney
ded in getting the money

d had sent it to Rich-

very ill, and became

every day more wi
Mr. Gordon had succee :
for the Exemption tax a en
er pavers oh it was difficult " a
aa par ae hern army pressed closer Oo
a ae in that beautiful capital

icial service ‘se
Richmond, official s hurried and confused.

re and mor ’s efforts to
became more ¢ at Mr. Gordon’s effor
. e to pass that 2 ined to be un-
ate lease seemed destined to |
. “«yn’s release § t 1e
syre his son's re or orew upon 2
procure h chilling fear grew Uj

successful, and the late, that

ight be too
° at he mig a } >
; betes mind tha te . vell might IE
4 the bright form he lov ed so W
uy 1e ba)

: ter late
alre: This afternoon,

aie.
i arked grav
filling an unma

snressed : it
ber, Molly felt unusually depresse¢
in December, 4

 
 

 

 

 

238 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

had rained in torrents all d

ay, §

ind the irregular
monotonous trickling of the water down the gut-
ter on the porch roof was almost exasperating to
Molly’s despondent mo

od. She stood by the win-
dow in the little alcove where her father h
wont to sit, and looked out ov

of the yard.

ad been

er the beaten sand

Bunny perched discontentedly on
the top of the old carved chs

1ir and let his long
tail hang straight down; the rainy weather did
not please him at all, and perhaps, he missed his
long winter naps, for it did not seem worth while
to go to bed for several] months when the
nice and warm about him

in the box under the table whenever he c

go for them. It was a different social
from that to which he w

air was
and nuts were plenty
hose to

atmosphere

as accustomed, and who
shall say whether it suited him or

Frances Haydock w
reading fr

not?
as sitting before the fire

om some old volume.

The spinning-
wheel stood idle,

for the spinning was all d
there was no more materi

the cloth Frances Haydoe

one,
al to be obtained. All

k could spare had been
given to her poorer neighbors, Molly’s wardrobe

had grown so limited that one day she opened the
old chest in the attic, and finding a partly worn

 

239
THE WAR CL OUD LIFTS.

 

» aes ty
1d its rather scan
k red velvet dress, she fitted its 1
dark rec

r figure.
. - slender fig f
proportions to her s ist have been fond o

en stors mtv : :
“Pather’s ances ther, the day she

ar_- MO
remarked to he
red,” she remar

1 stairs. 0 cpa
or wn dow! : ‘avs,’ was
ght this gov ; Society always,
_— sre not of our Society ¢
“They we

oie. ai aia
“ ed I think if
’a response. “ Indeed STAGE a
the mother’s resp ather joimec

is grandf
member rightly, that his g

ss ev?
econvincemen , harm
iends from conv ne any harm,
comps 11. the color will not do
“Well, !

b 9)?
ject to it?
23 thee object
i other? I mean does the sanrseeaieaes
71 mother ? cite
vine sv daughter; 1t of
Bis oe js miling and sighing
ad ar, 8 g
it to wear,” said her mother, gi ene
pane o Molly wore the olc
ther: 80 } sea
ee valuable approva sro
1 to fall and the big log
Q te
presently Molly

John gave it his ~

The drops continue Whe
in the fire-place burned quietly ;
i ,

. a . 1e
broke the silence. ‘ordon coming up tl
ore is Mr. Gort ist
“ Mother, here the old buggy. [t mus
: up the
igged $ make him turn out on
Oo ca

‘ as heard
if he has
I wonder

lane; he has r a
be something unusus
such a day as a
anything of Rosco ?

, eae a9 She ran
- it tidings t

oo > bearer of evl
Was he the

out on the porch.

 
 

 

 

THE HA VDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

“Is anything the matter, Mr. Gordon? It is
arainy day to come out,”

she spoke cheerily in
spite of her fears,

” he re-

“Mrs. Gordon is much worse to-day,

plied, getting cautiously out of the ric
It made Molly sad to see how he

last two or three months; he ¢
slowly.

kety vehicle.
had aged in the

ame up the steps

“T was almost afraid to leave Mrs.

Gordon,
even for an hour, tl

10ugh there is an old darky in
the house, but she did so long for Mrs. H

that I had to come over. Shall I
with me?” he asked.

“Willingly ; I will be ready in a minute. I
wish I could be of some real good to her,” she

said as she went to her room for wraps. Molly
watched the horse’s drooping he

aydock
carry you back

ad with the rain-
drops running down the wet mane

and dropping
on to the ground.

“ Have you heard anything from your son?”

she asked presently.
“ Nothing, nothing,” he replied, “I begin to

fear I never shall—” his voice choked, he and

covered his eyes with his hand.

cen

No, no, don’t, Mr. Gordon, we shall surely

, 241
THE WAR CLOUD LIFTS,

 

ir gh her
hear something soon,” said the girl, thoug
iti e the how the
weet tones shook a little, as she thought :
| is long anc
s che 1 by his long
i an was changec
genial old ma
r .
heavy anxieties. jaa“.
“T am ready to start now,” said Frances Hay
c ae u
i pli swift step.
dock, returning with her light, swift stey ?
ne hank you half enough for be-
“T can never thank } gi
| ’am,” said Mr. Gordon,
ing willing to come, maam, sé :
on ga i mm the steps
taking her hand and leading her dow ‘mn % .
cia i s Jarefully he tuckec
ith true Southern courtesy. Carefully ~_
: vatched the crazy old carriage
her in, and Molly watche .
¢ } a 3a re
it went slowly down the road and disappe
as it went s sans :
i : g@ trees.
through the gray vista of dripping t sha
ere ‘har all de watah in yere sullar
“Miss Molly, whar é perenne
from?” asked Jingo, as Molly seated he
come from?” as .
on a low stool in front of the fire. eee
“A spring opened there, Jingo, after the :
f . > ;
i id s es to le
ilt, and grandfather laid some piy
was built, and g k ins, dealt. Gon
he water run out into the garden,
wet i place?”
know the place ! pala
“Yes’m. Den dar’s no danger o’ dis y
alli ide ‘ rite querried.
torm swellin’ de tide?” the sprite q :
' 1 “i ay 7 me
did you think the water would co
“Oh no, did y nt
ut?
1 drown us all o
up here anc Ki a
: id’n know, watah is most onaccount
“Did’n know, we
(16)

;

3
4
| in PNET Mi ORE

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

242 THE HAYVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

‘ting ’cassionably, but I feel a heap better now you
telled me dat; Jingo don’t like gittin’ wet,” and
the little restless figure began a series of antics
which much disturbed the squirrel, who rather
seemed to class Jingo with the monkeys; he had
not studied Darwin, and therefore had drawn his
conclusions from practical observations. It may,
however, be doubted whether, had he known the
theories of that most ingenious and wonderful
man, the little quadruped would have believed in
the survival of the fittest as, from the safe refuge
of Molly’s lap, he watched Jingo cutting pigeon
wings.

“Molly, the kitchen roof is leaking,” said
John, as he came in from that room. I have put
a bucket to catch the drops. Don’t tumble over
it when you go out there. And Jingo, don’t you
fall in; you’ll get drowned.”

“No, deedy, sah, Jingo ruther be dirty all de
days, dan git inter a pail.”

“T believe you would,” replied John, pulling
the boy’s wool gently.

Supper was over, and John had gone to bed,
professing that he was so tired doing nothing that
he could not keep his eyes open. Molly knew,

243
THE WAR CLOUD LIFTS. ES ae

 

en sawi yood all day.
however, that he had been sawing W

I ieces intended
Jingo had been carrying in the pieces uate .
1 phi » kitchen
for kindling, piling them up behind the kit
; 2 j ; 2 ¢ ) e
tove: he remained rather long behind its am
stove ;

i $ stepped in to see
helter on one trip and John stepped in t
she ;

; . ee , rais-
what was occupying him. He was arefully ré

} sti 3 lai 1 across
j y ics Ss t ure i= tic alc
ing a com ylicated , truc of Ss ks | 1

ach other. ay
: “Dat de Tow’r ob Babel, Massa John,” said

. . ol A

the absorbed ar chitect, looking up at J in an
| = x ime
quite unconscl1ous t hat he was 8 vending his t 3

i 1 roper manner.
in an improper . ie
“4y + reach Heaven in that fashion,
“You won't reach .
if idle away your time when
i sially if you idle away your
xo; especially if y
Jingo; es} ie
you should be working. At
“Don spec’ to reach Heben dis yere way !
‘ . *f ; i gael
«sq Dose folks didn’t, if I ’member cor
how, Massa. s ohio set
ly, dey got dere moufs all mingled togec :
recly, g " oe
‘dat made-such gran’ confusion dey couldn't
dat me oe
i i ave a sudden Jump
Now it’s all finish,” and Jingo gave a su 1 . j |
re as his toe
that demolished the whole structure as h :
; sti surveye
caught the end of the bottom stick. He survey}
the fall gravely. as
“ Reckon I’d better go wuk agin.
“ -
“T reckon so too,” laughed John, “and leave

your Bible lessons till another time.”

 
 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

Jingo’s share of the work seemed to have
tired him as well as his young master; he had
also retired to his small cot and the bright little
eyes were closed in sleep when Molly went to look
at him, after John had gone upstairs,

“How different he looks from the first time I
saw him; dear me, John has sifted a lot of saw-
dust into his little black head; what a tiresome
boy,” she said, then going to the wood-box she
took several large cones from it and returned to
the living-room. She put two or three on the
glowing logs and watched them burn and grow
red-hot, still partially keeping their shape. How
unutterably lonely it was! Yet had her thoughts
been cheerful she might have enjoyed the fire-
light, dancing, quivering, throwing uncertain and
fantastic figures on walls and ceiling, waving now
here, now. there, as if they were alive. The con-
stant drip, drip of the rain outside made Molly
nervous as she sat in the old-fashioned rocking
chair, and, listening to the regular dropping of the
water into the bucket in the kitchen, she fancied

245

THE WAR CLOUD LIFTS.

 

If counting the slow intervals

Molly found herse Why didn’t it

between each splash as it. fell.
stop sometimes?

; if feeling the ,
the cs ine, re trickling in bag jomiabons
scarcely noticeable at common — i .
plainly to-night, whispering ras fi i
aidows people were holding high nia _ Biers
dark ei below, while outside the visit . pai
wind did nothing in its uncertain sighing sprite
her excited imagination or lull her see _
to rest. The clock ticked louder than she hac

and the squirrel sat upright on its
tent intelligent

influence of the long rain,

heard it before, dene
watching her with in ips
no disposition to come down to

a¢ su l ut wearin as it seemed to her,
€ d AS us a , b £
c ,

ancy. Molly
sion of expectancy. j
expressl ape

Why should

carved top,
eyes, showing

pett

an uncanny

‘tains closer.
arose and drew the curtains clo

rl her.
of the room frightened

i vere all
as if intangible beings were @ ot
ae ,
fancying something touche

corners around ?

she feel
She turned suddenly,

her shoulder.

ae r ak hn up
ei is; I shall wake Jo
it like the steady knocking of a small finger ; “How absurd mt fn said aloud, but her

rself and seemed to

: i
almost metallic was the ring of that perpetually | ts sdea hin Coop:

| | | rangely to he
falling drop into the accumulated water, and a eg taidtett

vyoic

Stihl OE Ri LE

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

246 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

awake echoes through the silent room.

Surely
that was the tramp of hors Some one
enue; was the door
She thought not, and sprang to fasten it
fearing unwelcome visitors, but the horse had
stopped close to the house and she knew the step
that hastily crossed the porch floor. Flinging the
door open wide and caring not for the rain that
blew in her face with sudde
lover’s

es’ hoofs!
was riding fast along the ay
locked ?

n gusts, she felt her
arms about her and knew

that one, at
least, of her prayers was

answered.

“When did you come? Hay

mother?” were her first question
.Tecovered her breath.

€ you seen your
8, AS soon as she

“Just arrived an hour ago; yes, I
home to tell mother I was

stopped at

all right, and she was

good enough to let me come rig
“She will get well now

,” said Molly. Her
face was marvellously bright afte

a few minutes ago.

ht over here.”

r the sadness of

“She cheered up w

onderfully during the half
hour I w

as there,” said Rosco, “so I

am going to
stay over here to-night if y

ou can put me up;

r relieved at the idea.”
“Yes, she does not like to leave

your mother seemed rathe

us alone,

 

'T. 247
THE WAR CLOUD LIFTS. s

—_———

ights with Mrs.
though she has spent several nights
10 s
, lately.” a
. € >
yordon la i age
al It is good to get back, oh, how good!” sé
oe 7 xh to get
R “ But I must leave you long enoug g
Osco, eyo age
rit still rains.
my horse under shelter, it still . 8s ot gl
antern, the little ste
“Take John’s lantern, t ee
} 2 > )
house will hold him, and the cc
Laon mpany,” said Molly.
rlad © re company, § ee.
ane ‘ou are? You don't say
“Gladder than you % ae
Molly,” said the young man, W
much to me, | 9 ee graghinsl
his hazel eyes, as he took the le
gleam of his hazel e)
from her hand. half—” she answered, “I
’ 1¢ Ty 1a — .
“Ah, I can't say :
ever come.
rou would nevé i
thought you : iiss
™ n Rosco returned from stabling |
pis ovelier picture
en § velier pic
he thought he had never seen a a 5 I se
: e ficl ireli ved him.
than the flickering firelight showe¢ le
i. | ’s slight figure cla
i ’s slight fig
ames lit up Molly’s shg
cht flames |

aca » urned
5 age: ae and, as she t

‘ é velvet, and,

sturesque old

the pictur

bri

Oo me at him the the t f é sh 4 yer } er gl w-
‘ , JOY 1 1 1 e 1 ove 1 Q
to nee ’ e ost ardent
Ing face was en y ») Si t sfy tl e V yst £ a nt
no Af h Oo sa
: 4 | : Cc ore for he
] vers ex rect 1tions ; he thought no mo ) :
ih i al, ES 1ear t re area
d d she ec I
3 pas rl ul nor
t me of Ss st t £ ° 1 c >» l 49T } >
storm without.
h if you onl y kne W ho W I ha VE longe 1
O ? B 5S

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

248

THE HAVDOCK’S TESTIMONY.

 

for this, Molly.
see you again.”

“The worst was not allow
replied the girl as they stood together before the
fire. The squirrel took observations from its ele-

vated perch, and seeing that neither of the other

occupants of the room showed
ing.

ed to come, Rosco,”

any signs of retir-

to wait and
its nose was soon fast asleep.

, concluded it was not worth while
curling its tail over

Once I thought I should never

 

THE OLD MEETING HOUSE AGAIN., 249

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE OLD MEETING HOUSE AGAIN.

Very glad and thankful was Frances ee
dock to én Rosco Gordon once more and to learn
ais her beloved husband had been able sth
through to the Union lines, and also to em : “
he er not suffered as much as many of the ? 1¢ '
pul who had been impressed into a sg
Weary and worn he might be, that was 6 3
craton lot of those among wae he wae t phon
and no complaint was thought of on aryeanis®:
Indeed, no murmuring was ever hear¢ on st
lips of these Quakers, even vig they * 4

ema and beaten for steady cofoeala to a
is as. Other soldiers risked loss of - and lim
ae wha they believed to be wang mole, Pie
should not the Friends take equal ate si .
Captain under whom they served, ee isto
Peace? In following Him, however, none los
oe life or limb, though they did endure that

| 5 F é atred
which perha »S Was } arc er, t 1e scorn and 1
‘ 5S A | > °) r; }

 
 

SETTING HOUSE AGAIN. ites
THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY. as ca cst: ot a AES.
Soe aan celina eee NY

mistaking their Christianity for fe

or self-seeking,

of those who, ar
branded them as cowards and
traitors. No people have ever bee

 

5) y 5) no b b > re i > red by the
Ss re bs} > t ut C rel eV ‘é

31 sere she could ie

so since y;

y Ss S. i ciety, ¢ nd daily
5 2 shing anxiety, a

ifti } sr most erus 5

ifting of he a

n more consci-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

entious citizens of the United St

ates than the
Quakers, nor

authority which
Y regarded as the
As to sacrifice, the
of Friends were not small. In one Quarterly
Meeting in North Carolina the destruction of their
property was estimated in offici

six thousand dollars in gold.
to fight se

more obedient to

did not conflict with what the

higher law. ecuniary losses
cas] d

al returns at ninety-
Their unwillingness
emed sufficient proof to the
army that they favored the Union,
the same cause they

Confederate
and owing to

were pointed out to the

Northern commanders as obstinate secessionists.

More than ever during the spr

ing of 1865, were

almost every comfort,
Bedding and clothing, furniture

either taken or destroyed ; all
were carried away ;

their homes stripped of

and food were
available animals

what seed had been planted
in the hope of making a fresh start was

in the general destruction,
tainable.

involved
and no more was ob-

Still Friends lived

, and though Frances Hay-
dock felt the dee

p distress of the country she loved

1 hy r Tey
<s to the loving Father whose
did she give thanks to eda
1s they were endeavoring to obey ¢
commands ) glia chee
had protected them amid much dang
ase advantage of lessening care,
Poverty has the one advantag . 3
ae a “bY Uhlé akes hourly
spt it be a grinding poverty that mak }
a loubt. No horses, no cows were
sus < 7 a ao . nt
ae if 1 finally fallen a prey to a
left: for the heifers had finally agleree
os ] foragers, and Molly, after the firs

y of ery foragers,

body of hungry 2 ena ebe te iy
i ch s glad, for the poor animals he
shock, was glad, bere een ae
ine on very small rations for some

yong, A ds er opiate ideale te
; i pitifully unsatisfied look whene

wore ¢ j pec ae
John went to milk them. No corn t be
ns luties of the
g in order, made the dutie:

: seep in order, n
arden to keey ac wenger
emarkably light. There were ]

ar ddan ak 1 ithered, and John

j y é e LE >

3 light wood to g i

cones and 5 : Pe ais

lly took his gun with him when he mé pee

catoiaite for a stray squirre
litions to the swamp, for a stra} :

pt : ition to their ordinary

releome addition to t ,

mi t+ unwelcome ¢ :

seu? Did I say there

1S 1¢ Si

sake ¢ yotatoes. \

fare of hoe-cake and pot ghetto
were no living animals about the pk ait

ih . sticated chickens

incorrect, for of the two domesticated ‘

eee : ; 6 was owing to
’ till remained. Its existence was owing

one sti g

al c i oO, 8 p Pe leliction
fi icy it ev inced for eu ing’ ’ a Te
the ‘ ata LW ay y oC

SOREL NET,

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

252 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

warmly reciprocated by th
when he found John w
the lone fowl into a ste
life that it was er

at individual, who,
as intending to convert

W, begged so hard for its
anted him,

“Jingo, it eats so much cornme

al,” remarked
John.

“ Laws sake, Massa John, V’ll gib it a bit ob
what ey It reelly don’t "quire
haf what as dat triftin’ squirrel gits,” Jingo did
not like the squirrel, probably because
beast regarded him with
picion,

er yer kin spar me,

the small

an unconquerable sus-
and when perched on the

dropped chestnut she
sat at the foot of the

clock, slyly

Ils on to Jingo’s head as he

ancient piece of furniture
?

lesson.

The dreary winter w

studying his spelling

as over and spring was
in the air once more, Birds were again m
their way from the far South
rily in and about the
songs and lively darting
dicting its claim to the n
described its darker
lines of wild ducks we
sky, and freque

aking
and twittered mer-
great swamp, their gay
among the trees contra-
ame of “Dismal” which

attributes, Long irregular

re seen against the soft blue
ntly John would bring home

two
or more of these birds that he had been ab]

e to

7 253
: DUSE AGAIN. fons
MEETING HC

THE OLD MEETING HO

S i i , 3 ols of the

secul is they rested in the hidds h po

th : He 5 S sé fe in these secre

SW i ing =} 5 lves sa eret

king thems € ’ .

J yam ) thin 5 ter :

# oe , umid feather E cypresses and thic eave
cesses ¢€ y y l 1 k ]
. ; i r ] Mare su shine is

7 iny riolets anc

y axing out he ny Ss
often very warm, coaxing 0 t : ig - :
l lic t f Tns in early abundance. I ; | : Ly
. os : i) I | custy leaves that hac

; k i 1 rose dro ) ed the rus ty le LV , oe
3ankslé OSC dak mer oe ,

clu 2 t it all winter, and display € d l tt le S} r .

: m ; t 5 a 8, 8 5 blosso l
i clu sters of rose buds , soon to

é inute Cu: . Enguatia

) lu 1 i unt creamy beauty. Along he es

: snrian € j | yr t | y ;

| ‘i i ; tl € zgnolias vere sweet, and he
yé 1e mé as V Ss ;

he swamp £ an

reat W rite 1 ls ‘ AG 4 the ovely

m f lt tl e revi ving influence s of

we ut ’ I a > W int had relaxed its hold, anc

_ i y n er c q ao
th . ip 6 | Ww use 38 fi or vant of horse S,
§ } 1i¢ es were seless ( W :
1 a i & stri s f it 9OSSL DLE
t we e wl were sood pedestrians found =
t : l | : ] intercourse with their nelgn-
i > nterc ‘ rp
Py | some litt ec iia
sii i ing- se sed for the gree
3 The meeting hous ) unus th “8 “s
1 J > W » Was > I | 1 ‘ t

pé rt of t 1e V ’ a i

‘ -oiving sun shine agaln brighten e o
ife giving $s S y -) 1 th ld

br wh walls. ; Dg Sab |

‘ ) ri rht Sa bbath or as i rien ls term it
: : : a : b) x sir horse which
” Rose x rdon pu 1€ ’
i y SCO Go t th

¢ i i al ssession,
V still ullow ed to remain in their pos =
was Sst

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HA YDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

into a carry-all of doubtful strength,

over to Frances H; aydock’s,
diately after their

and drove

arriving there imme-
simple breakfast,
“ Mrs, Haydock,” he said,

carry you to meeting to- day ?”

“Thank thee, Rosco, the children and I Ww
thinking of walki

king ove
a beautiful day,”

from her gre

“won’t you let me

ere
r this morning, it is such
replied the Quakeress,

en-cushioned rocking ¢
ing aside the old y

been reading,

rising
hair and lay-
olume from Which she had

“I think you had bette
object, the roads

places,”

r ride, if you do not
are still wet in some of the low

said the young man, noting the sweet
Tepose in every line of Fr; ances Haydock’s face
and form,—a calm that is rarely seen in any but
the people of this religious sect and whic

ably results from a long habit of absolute
the higher Pow er,

repressing all kinds of violent emotion.
form of Quaker worship requires ¢
control and this restraint. h;

sometimes, as to re
To Rosco Gordon,

h prob-

trust in

and also from their usage of

The very
onsiderable self-
as been carried so far
press healthy spiritual life,

with his impulsive Southern

nature, the repose he found in this Quaker

family

 

TAIN. 255
THE OLD MEETING HOUSE AG A

rerv > > } fl > vey he | mu th
was I attractive, and 1ts intluence 5]
‘ ve y € J ‘ ® . t aw the " tho e
str » td h 1 sd and ste adied him ; 0 day Ww =]
es if e CO pa bbath, anc
f 32 9 hou € ]
ling in the se s 0k 7} of the S 3 “
le le ymor of conflict throug h the lan $8 e
Cc 10 fea :) 1 » 1
ve i We
r far a Ly. ee
y Is Miss Molly about ? 7? he asked Pp bs] it y-
1e ana e t + meac
| n 1 John Ww alked dow n to he e low
e re vi i Ss I yeliev e.
b | 1 1 the house to look for V iolets, I >} ] |
V ; £ 1e1 wi l yut on my On-
1A Ww y a0 | 1 r I
thee vill bring tl em bac ’ I : Q to 0 ‘
at he ath vl c is § 1 as €
i e < V rile as thee 1s SO k n ] 3] ) t ar
net 1n ’ a
t lri ve s ) > sting’. ;
E -us t mee 5 ‘
rhe | an yo 1, ] WwW ill soon find them, said
Si V ‘ i y ( iI oug itchen and out across
R ae } . oh the k t l : ™
O, valk £ , ' Ss
es p) ¥ d, Ww here he tumbled over ing he} t-
ar
the chi c 4
ting mot ionless behind the woc Lpile. :
W hy, Jingo, W hat are y ou doing? I d rs n t
e time.’
, at a
aoa’ you u Ss s e min ites
ld it still fiv U *)
on, -" c c c tin’ or
SI sh, Mz issa Rosco, Y se jest a Wi ui f
I c c Y c own.
dis aT ¢ il ke Ne ac © SS
y n to fin’ a e t ) le a an egg d
Ef i | ‘ ount rit
3} kin sho W she aint de no ’e a Cc vA
ass ) Say st 4 } ) | an Jix vO an oit a t 0
e x € e } = é i
3Sé 1 say 1e€ de, SD DS
Massa Johi Re 10r
hoe- oO -] ary mornin :
cake eber y
And how much of it W ill you g1Vv e he $
3 sd t tl » Oy Ss oe r¢ t t
0, I 1S€ a b 8 ex e c
é OY S Ce 5
sec
sa much amv 1€ z 7 I vari 1
p p C a 5. y u
over his chicken as she step ed cauti u ] a t

 
 

 

 

256 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

deliberately lifting her claws over the chips, and
peering first under one log and then under
another.

“Tl keep her agoin’, sah, neber you fear; she
aint kep’ Jingo’s feet warm all de winter to be
’glected now an’ her comb’s gitten’ as pinky as
Miss Molly’s lips, an’ I plumb sartain she’s agoin’
ter lay soon’s she kin git quiet. Here come Miss
Molly and Massa John, reckon I’ll tote her to de
barn whar she kin ’sperience som res’. She’s dun
gwine to lay, shuah,” and Jingo picked up his
favorite, who was regarding him with outstretched
neck and grave eye and disappeared into the barn.

Soon the old carry-all was moving down the
avenue, and its occupants enjoyed the balmy air
laden with a piny odor given forth by the young
buds of spruce and fir.

“There was a rumor last night that Rich-
mond had fallen, Mrs. Haydock,” said Rosco Gor-
don, furning to address her as she sat quietly be-
hind him ; few words had been exchanged as they
drove along, for a cast-off knapsack here, and a
broken musket there, on the side of the road, con-
tinually reminded them of the misery throughout
the land, the sorrow of bereaved families in the

THE OLD MEE TING FH rl SE A GAL NV.

North, the double
mn > =

in the South. The v wn
sky seemed a mockery

melting blue of the sky seemed a mocker’

burden of defeat and desolation
ivid spring sunshine and the
above

i ‘the nation.
the mourning of the nat

“And if Richmond has fallen,

ron’ » exclaimed John, his boy-
soon be back, won't he?” ex

ig a relief to the sudden joy in
The thought of seeing her
a flood of feeling too

father will

ish openness provil
his mother’s heart.
husband once more, brought

; é , of words.
deep to allow eA #
“Could he get through the lines as soon as
oS
snders?” asked Molly.
the Southern army surrenders?” asked Molly

” y \ y 4
I suppose he could,” returned young Gor

ri 2 rreat to
lon, “and I fancy no obstacle will be too gre¢
aon, "3 »

F »
; Ta] >
if cetting here 1s at all possible.
DS =

overcome,

; wer
it wi 5 o see him again,
“Oh, but it will be good t

said Molly. ee
“Indeed it will,” responded Rosco he

Haydock will not want you, will
ce, a suspicion

artily,

“and then Mrs.
Molly?” he added in a low vol

she,

of mischief lighting up his eyes. ee
“May I lift you down ? he continued, as

' to the meeting-house door,

“ew the horse up
cont is hardly

r foot on the wheel, that step

“ you i
put y¢ ht active youth lifted the maiden

safe,” and the lig
(17)

 
 

258 THE HAVDOCK’S TESTIMONY,

 

THE OLD MEETING HOUSE AGAIN. stn 259

gently down as with a heightened color in her soft
cheek she resigned herself to his strong arm.

“Now, Mrs. Haydock, the old carriage has
brought you safely over after all,” said Rosco as
he assisted her to alight.

below with the rest of the women Friends. As

she looked up at the gallery where the ministers

sat. she could not help contrasting the fair face

men or Wi e bent
ionified aspec er mother with the

and dignified aspect of |

M ficure and brown wrinkled face of the ancient
é
“Yes, thank thee, Rosco; olly and I will go 5

Oe ery one ‘aie
Friend sitting next to her; the years had be
in and John will wait for thee.”

kind to Frances Haydock, and her loving daugh-

ter rejoiced in her sweet looks. Indeed, this bright
prec ’s heart with gladness, and

morning filled Molly’s heart with gladness, ¢

i 2 an’s side anc
r lover took his seat on the men’s side and

How different was the assemblage from that
which had gathered there four years ago! Then

 

 

 

 

there had been an air of prosperous content about as he plier a ie hi
the congregation which spoke of well being and bent his brown head on the rail in front of him
happiness, in spite of the sober mien of the wor-

shippers. Now the gathering was smaller, the
clothing was faded, worn and of many fashions;

her joy. ps
i ithi Iding, and
the faces were somewhat thin and pale, and what since olgnak:-otihti’ th voile

through the windows Molly’s eyes wandered to
o

the dull green pine trees so softly outlined against

 

in a different mode of worship from that observed

among Friends, she almost reproached herself for
o

of brightness they had once contained was now

changed to a sad, but calm endurance. Many of
the men were away and the absence of news from

them filled the hearts of their families and friends ) in a golde *
i ) ; —- at his voice, falling
with a wearing suspense. in the men’s gallery arisen that his voice, falling

the deep blue sky, from which the sunshine fell
n flood. So quietly had the preacher

Frances Haydock passed up the uncarpeted
aisle and ascending a few steps took her seat in
the gallery at the end nearest the men’s side,
separated just there from the women’s section by
a single bar of dark wood. Molly seated herself

with its deliberate accents on the girl’s ear, star-
tled her. Leaning forward with both his hands
on the polished rail in front of him, he enuncl-
ated his opening text: wie
«“<Jg there any word from the Lord ? n

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

260 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

the slight pause so often following the first sen-
tence of a Friend’s sermon, the heavy door at the
opposite end of the house swung open and a tall
dignified figure entered, closed the door behind
him and walking up the middle aisle, quietly
took his seat at the head of the gallery. One look
was exchanged between husband and wife; then
the habitual self-control reasserted itself, and they
sat outwardly unmoved as the speaker proceeded

with his address. Molly had half risen, but sat.

down again with clasped hands and head bent
upon them, not moving till the first speaker had
finished and taken his seat again. A moment
after, James Haydock kneeling, offered up a
thanksgiving such as had rarely been heard with-
in those old walls. It seemed to carry his hearers
very near the gates of Heaven and a deep sol-
emnity spread over the congregation as they re-
seated themselves after the closing words. The
services were short, and when it was time to break
up, instead of shaking hands with the Friend just
beside him, as was the usual habit, James Hay-
dock turned and held out both hands to his wife,
who responded with a look of such heart-felt
gladness that all words were indeed unnecessary.

TING HOUSE AGAIN. 261

THE OLD MEE
baka Paar after meeting were
rreetings ¢ ends after meeting V
The eager greetings of fri nee
eived, but as soon as courtesy permitted,
.
avdock drove homeward in

he three young people

kindly ree
James and Frances H
the old carryall, while t

} » as rr ad
sauntere d slowly after them along the sandy road,
3a ered § 4

y of the spring vegetation and

enjoying the beaut

the resinous breath of the woods.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

CHAPTER XIX.

WAS THE WAR NECESSARY ?

“You must have seen more actual warfare
than I did, Mr. Haydock,” said Rosco Gordon,
after tea, as he sat with the family on the front
porch in the soft light of early evening.

“T saw far more than I cared to,” was James
Haydock’s reply. “I would I could blot out from
my mind the remembrance of one battle. It had

been raging for hours across a valley, to and fro;

the smoke hung in a thick curtain between the
hills and through it we could hear thé sc

ream of
the shells mingled with the shrieks of the wounded

and the cry of the agonized horses, all in one ter-
rible confusion. After one desperate charge of cay-
alry, the colonel of the regiment tried to gather
his men together again, and in answer to his
bugle call, more than an hundred horses wheeled
into line, but the riders that had gone with them
into that storm-cloud were not there. After the

battle was over, (and on neither side was anything

 

a doe 26:
WAS THE WAR NECESSARY? 263

decisive accomplished) I went down into the wa
to see if there was anything I sons ug oe
sickening ; heads, arms, limbs in every ~~ ~
a mass of slaughtered humanity. I hav iene |
it said that those killed in battle wear a pé —
dues and I believe that a few hours _
death that is the case, for I have seen it i
but these faces of the newly slain generally _
a look of agony unutterable. The spel e
passed through had stamped its impress . _
features. Itisa blessed thing that this aw . ~
pression does not last; for if shone wha are _
home to friends and relatives bs it _ r
death it would be a fearful remembrance os
ved them.”
pi - is curious how the — es rons
after death,” remarked Rosco, the other lis
saying nothing.
ne he said the older man, then after p
pause he continued. “I helped to carry ee y sate
fellow to the hospital tent; he was apse .
suffering bravely, but his hands were —.
‘iad his hair wet with perspiration. He askec : e
doctor if he could do nothing for him,and W 9
told only death could relieve his pain, he turne

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

264 THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

 

to me with such piteous eyes, ‘In God’s mercy
pray it may be soon,’ he said, and it was soon. I
sat for an hour beside another bright boy, hardly
more than a child; he said he was the last of
three brothers and his mother was alone; the cries
that came from the amputating tent were horrible,
for the doctors had not time to give chloroform,
or to be very gentle always, and this boy seemed
much disturbed, so I carried him down to my
own tent, which was further away. He was a
good boy, not afraid to go, but grieving about his
mother, saying, ‘She gave us all up and it is
useless, for the South is getting beaten anyhow.’
He asked me to read to him and I repeated some
verses, then he said himself slowly :
“Remember now thy Creator in the days of
thy youth,’ mother told me that; I’m glad I did;’
then his words grew indistinct and I could barely
catch the next verse or two, ‘or ever the silver
cord be loosed;’ ‘mine is loosening fast,’ he
opened his eyes and looked past me out into the
darkening twilight, with that far-reaching gaze
which once seen is never forgotten ; he crossed his
hands on his breast and with a long soft breath,

was gone. I was alone in my tent.”

265

WAS THE WAR NECESSA RY?

 

 

No one broke the hush that followed. Molly

‘rances Haydock felt her
as crying softly and Frances Haydock felt
was d oe dv a sisi i:
husband’s hand clasp hers more closely.

, he arose, saying :
ently he arose, Say is ; :
“The evenings are still cool, shall we not g

109”?

into the house ‘ 2

Hie home, I think,” said Rosco,
“T must go home,

1 5 £ se is yon-
“ mother will be wanting me, though she is W :
m¢ > .
+o LTS é oc
] fully better Good-night, Mrs. H yd ray
si : i m Mr. £| ay-
t é see Mr. P;
cannot tell you how glad Iam to
7 A “
4 ”
dock back again.
" 4 he Lord has been wonaer

i .
“Praise be to His name.
ed the young man, reverent-

aded under the cool spring

fully good to us,”

she replied.
“Amen,” respond

ly, as he stood bare-he

“Ht ad fallen, and James Haydock

ichmond h
mk iss down through

had been one of the first to pa sie tty
and return to his family. Find-

‘ ee
> Great Swamp ;
unre is arrival, with the ex-

i s empty on h
r the home empty} ay
4 left his hard ridden horse in

sntion of Jingo, he
pa ae to the meeting-

eee 6
the little stable and went at onc
as the colored boy directed ;
turn of his household, and he wishe¢

he could not
house

wait for the re

< 3 » Te t of
ls turn thanks 1n unisor t 1 the

‘ 1 Wl i 5 Ss
aiso 10 e r

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

266 THE HAVDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

 

his people for the many blessings of which he and

they had been the recipients during the past four

years. It may be stated here that although many
Christian denominations had been separated in
feeling by the bitterness of war, the Friends had
kept their brotherly love and confidence unbroken
during these years of trial. As soon as the Nor-
thern Friends knew of the suffering throughout
the Southern meetings, immediate relief was sent
down, the Secretary of War promptly giving passes
to all who were bearers of this assistance, which
we believe was the first aid sent South after the
surrender.

Richmond had fallen, General Lee had sur-
rendered, and the war was practically over. Rosco
Gordon was too true a Southerner not to feel
acutely the defeat of his people, and though dimly
recognizing that their triumph would have
brought about a more disastrous state of affairs
for themselves, than their defeat, and that the
abolition of slavery was a thing much to be de-
sired, he could not but suffer keenly from the dis-
tress and humiliation that had come upon his
beautiful South.

Moreover the cloud of conflict still hovered

above
lain. The army of Gene em
é . : si ve
:ehborhood of Greensboro, and G¢

5

267

WAS THE WAR NECESSARY?

‘el r story has
the section of country wherein our stor)

ral Johnson was not far

from the ne

S ith h

i: herman W it Ms

- , manding the surrender of the
- >,

j £ y 7, ¢ « y or
is troops, lay only a day

two’s march away, de
Confederate forces.
While awaitir

ocecurre
at event occul =
“aa r permitted to overshadow our

19 the answer to this demand,
oD

d which brought almost the

deepest sorrow eve
nation.
James Haydock

i spring mornil
right spring Kee
on hoping to obtain more

?

and Rosco Gordon had rid-
‘

I ig in April, to the
den one D

nearest official stati had yet received concern-
ay hac
ini sws than they had }
finite news tl
tc id am
ing the ratification of pe
of the country.

‘ederal army, but the
re of the Federal army,

ace between the long con-
ace

i The troops now
tending sections

nearest them we

Jonf “ates were as

Confederates . oe
i rht r in one it

of battle might roll

over their defenceless home

not very distant, and at any

time the tide
destructive wave

iving at the quarte
rriving at t ' tage
° 3s on the face of the officer 1n charge,

dispatch just handed him.

rs, they were struck with
S, ;

the expression
as he read a brief :
approached, asking,

1s Haydock i a
ge this morning?

y ne 7 or
“Tg the news not encouraging

”
Nothing very bad, I trust.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE HAVDOCKS T,

eSTIMON y.

The officer looked up at him as one dazed ;
wrath, horror, and grief all delineated in his
features ; he seemed unable to speak and held out
the dispatch with shaking hand to James Hay-
dock, who took it feeling as if some terrible and
wholly unforeseen calamity had fallen upon him.
The hastily written words: “President Lincoln
assassinated last night,” struck him like a heavy
blow,and Rosco Gordon, reading over his shoulder,
felt the quiver running through the strong frame
so close to him.

“Let us go home; there is mourning in the
land,” were the only words James Haydock spoke
as he turned from the door of the little building.

“ You say true, sir,” replied the officer, rising
from the chair where he had been seated, “ this is
a blow struck at the hearts, homes, and honor of
our country, such as never yet has fallen upon us.
The last act of the national tragedy is yet to be
finished.”

If possible the heart of Rosco Gordon was
heavier than that of his older companion as they
rode home together through the warm sunshine
that had suddenly lost its brightness. It seemed
to him as if his beloved country had blackened its

SSSARY? 269
5 THE WAR NECESSARY?

WA F

enema

honor with

c = | ed
stain that could neve Ie
1 1ever it > Wipe

a had always seemed to

ic sople

The American peo}
and honoral yle.
Had war with ¢

Had he erred in this

sept ill its debasing influ-

9? Ah, he, as well as

judgment ?

his
. them to t |
. urn. that war so deadens the

ences brou
of us, had to le
lant
that treac |
‘ q9rcae as at
1 of all kinds are regarded as ¢
0 €

i ing, fre fair
as t ery, lying, fraud, ut

7 € re ‘
higher natu

advantage, ev! eS

el c
least allowable, and
nose
never proved at whose
1t and beloved man,
of a state of fe

yften commendable.
door lay the murder of
but it was very

see ling engendered

surely the outcome
rv and its conse
at her husban¢
‘ i ye Te
h: an indescribable heavy

:

vay. Frances Hay-
quent war. Fy

pl iti 1’s desk, when she
ras writing

dock was

heard him cross tl

iness in his step ¢

as he enteré

ye pore a
iused her to look up apprene

‘ a a . * ce
d and the gravity of his fa

> t

sively
did not reassure her.

i 3?” she ueried
y f xsh misfortune ? . he q
3 Is there any res Ss. Ss

seamed No, not to us

very heavy one, “4
oo , led as he saw how pale
» he quickly added as rtd
Molly came in from the

my wife.

personally,
she became, and then as

: w 1 tk 7 i ay > rar Le ]
en h tole 1em of t 1e crime unexa ny ed 10
kitch ; e

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

270 THE HAVDOCKS TESTIMONY.

 

American history, that had taken pl

ace at the
Capitol.

“T said it was not personal,
nation will mourn for Abraham Lincoln with
individual feeling that very few
comimanded,” said James Haydock, se

self with down-cast brow in his large arm chair,

a seat near Molly
as she occupied her usual low stool near the fire-
place. In its depths a few logs smoldered slowly
away, scarcely needed now that the w
shine poured in through the windows,

“Mr. Lincoln’s ready personal interest in

so
many cases we hear of has much endeared him to

the people,” said the young man, his eyes re
thoughtfully on the embers.

Rosco Gordon came in and took

arm sun-

sting

“Truly, it has,” answered James Haydock,
“his high principles, his unwavering courage in

carrying them out, his earnest seeking to know
the right thing to do, and his tender qu

aintness
in every day intercourse with those ¢

onstantly

affection rarely
gained by any public character.” He stopped

speaking, and a silence fell on the little group, a
hush of sorrow typical of the attitude of the w

around him, have won a reverent

hole

and yet the entire
an
men have ever

ating him-

oi ae ciel g ene
WAS THE WAR NECESSAR Yi

271

| I ) 3S ) el much
N rth Tn €O le under the los S of th I
jah ; pl ESS } useh E lds, tl ?
] | "eS dent In countle ss ouseho 5S. e
| : > : fe si most alued and
€ i 12 was as if one O their Is V
zs | ] eC ta Ken from then »a d
) ( =) be rs hac e c
he nore d mem l on | 3 Z |
the gI atne SS of the calamity bew ilde re d th 3 lai |
| 5 } t i and curled himself up on
J ing rep in & ;
5 th ] d ra ere 1 that Massa In-
) bs) irts he 1a ge th sTeC |
Mc lly Ss skirts ) ef
tt : Vas ( ( >C stomed as ne c
kur 1 was dea A: and accus ; 5 ; i h ‘i b > . to
) j 1 aS alm st alyine, 11s suc en ant
ag § os t | tl =] | > j
think of hin is
4 Ww Pp sssed ] im wit as 4 c
nt impressec wn h 1 orl af a
sorro ful eve | acqua
awe LLY to >I l arst ‘ 1 by those we € q € int
. be inaers 00 se
| j ‘ =] f >€ lin y aly : sI ith Ww hich
. . fe ] st f Ors |
ee £ nost O wors > W .
ed vith the 5 .
the olore 1 evar 1 M . Lincoli .
race reg ardec IT ™ ¢
= a t 3 S Se t mm profoun 1 = rief 1r
And =10) he mourners sat a g =) l
‘ V we g « ‘TC anc
i é and the hor ee |
é llin that day )
man a d €e 5 ; bh ath
[a lt the North ex ended in part th ) 1gh-
wrath fe at , :
‘ 5 | B aek ¢ ] WwW | it > Ww yt t g mt 2
out the fhe ut 1. ac anc 1 3 V . ‘ ‘ I
an 1 W hile feeling the death of their I es d ant
is k =) i t S t at suc
ee ou C b 4 e
mos € nl Y, Cc ld n yt ut 1ve th inks h t Sl h
aman had lived. ] ave t 16 cl are cte t.
Her e it 18 time for us to eave 1ara Ts
te : = > a we leave
0 u 3 > e be er Ca AV €
indeed, W her 7) >) r I ; l Te
x tale ’ and .
w ] n 1der the softening and enno b ling in-
é ur C : S VD o ;
th m t 1a “A ; !
fluen =] of a great and unsel 1s h sorrov )
ce y ( se Ss sorrow ut V it h

7 + maT? 7% »w ?
heer and brightness near In vle
c

 
 

 

 

 

THE HAYDOCKS’ TESTIMONY.

The threatened storm of battle around our
friends finally rolled away, and they felt as if their
prayers had been answered when the last of the
Southern army surrendered near them without
bloodshed.

Our tale is ended; will it accomplish what
was intended? Will it show that if others had
done what the Quakers did in regard to slavery a
century before, the terrible war that finally exter-
minated this evil, might have been averted? Will
it deepen the conviction that war is contrary to
the mind of Christ, and prevents the spread of
that Gospel which is the tidings of “ Peace on earth,
good will to men.” And finally, will the proved
experience of our Quakers imbue doubting Chris-
tians with a fuller belief in our Saviour’s power
and willingness to protect His followers under any
circumstances ?

This has been the object of our narrative,—
the hope of opening perhaps more clearly some
of the gospel truths to those who, knowing many
of the privileges under which a Christian may
live, have not yet grasped them in their fullness.
Once, it is said, when the Bible was almost en-

tirely excluded from France, an open copy of it

WAS THE WAR NECESSARY? ; 273

was displayed in the window of a certain shop in

i f Paris ay by day groups of
the gay city of Paris. Day by day grouj

artisans going and returning from their various
artisans goin;

would stop, read what was printed on

occupations , :
At last a young

the open page, and pass on.

workman stepped inside the shop with the request
: , 6 now
to be allowed to turn the leaf and read the “ rest

of the story.” Many believers have studied earn-
estly the truths of Christianity, and yet perchance
not known or felt the whole. May we page that
our sketch will lead such to turn the leaf and

learn the “ rest of the story ?” With this in view we

- also. adding only, in the
leave it, and the reader also, adding y;

r : Then ¢ an’s wavs please
language of Scripture, “ When a man’s ways pleé
bamon - 4

ake syen his enemies to be at
the Lord, He maketh even

: ie
peace with him.

 
 

 

 

 

NOTES.
From an Account OF THE EXPERIENCES OF

Frienps IN NortuH Caronina IN Support
or THEIR TrestTIMoNy AGAINST War.

J. D. was conscripted in the autumn of 1862.
He, and several other conscripts, were offered
bounty money if they would volunteer, but J. D.
and two others refused. Many arguments were
used to make them accept the offers, but in vain.
An officer came forward saying, “Boys, I want to
give you some good advice. Take your money
and clothing and go along. Obey your officer
and do right, or else you will be put under the
officers of Col. S., who will have you shot into
strings if you don’t obey. Just put away your
Quaker notions now and do right.” Refusing to
obey, he was sent to Richmond, Va., but while on
the way there was released through the efforts of
Friends and sent home. He was at this time

a Methodist, but was soon after united to the
Friends.

S. W. L., of Randolph County, N. C., was
another of our faithful members. He had been
conscripted and sent to Petersburg, Va. Upon
his arrival he was ordered to take up arms, but on
refusing to do so, he was bucked down for some
length of time daily, for a week, and then sus-
pended by the thumbs for an hour and a half.

NOTES. 275

 

Being still firm in his refusal to fight, he wes -
dered to be shot. A little scaffold ore ene
on which he was placed, and the men ntsc nm n
up in line ready to execute the arr hen .
siash « Father, forgive them ; for they mee ~
Hh at they do.” Upon hearing this they lowere
air guns, and he was thrust into prison.

In the Spring of 1862, two brothers, N. M. H.
1 J. D.H. were drafted, arrested and taken to
Raleigh, | Refusing to bear arms they were kept

Raleigh. deprived of food and

in close confinement, and 1 of food an
Sar te four and a half days. Z iy ine
patient and gentle that ministers ye x ae ei
nominations came and encouraged ‘ -
faithful. J.D. H. was taken eve , a aeaE,
who said he would not require bes a . ve i ome
but would set him in front of the ba ‘* ni oP
bullets. They bound heavy logs eepae ae
shoulders and marched him agit - a ot
when he was 8 a _ get aeod a akaieat
I. he xen enduring a nishment.
ears they suspended him by o wipe
till his toes barely touched the goon , mg . aes
him in this fc gpap oe plac eae h a
ach time. They next tried the ba) :
cay to thrust them four sptgreitlnces Sa
though much scarred and pierce yc gar ame
as deeply as they had threatened. — . =
men, after thus wounding him, came ssn o
treat his forgiveness. In the various cha —s
the next four, months wt Te wasnot ill seven
8 also much cruelty. va
romero Oe been passed in these a, sha or at
their release was obtained; another friend th

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

276 THE HAYDOCKS TESTIMONY.

ing it right to pay their exemption money for
them. Their wives and daughters shared these
trials, in that they were compelled to toil in the
fields to raise food for the winters, till health was
sometimes permanently injured.

W. B. H. was arrested in June, 1863; he was
ordered to be shot, as he would not obey the order
to carry arms, the colonel giving him the choice
whether he would die that night or the next
morning. W. H. replied that if it was his Hea-
venly Father's will that he should lay down his
life, he would far rather do it than disobey one of
His commands; but that if it was not His will,
none of them could take his lifefrom him. The
officer seemed greatly at a loss and ordered him
to the wagon-yard for the night. The next morn-
ing he was brought out to be shot, and a squad of
men drawn up to fire. W. H. raised his arms in
prayer and not a gun was fired, some of the men
saying “they could not shoot such a man.” The
enraged officer struck at his head, but missed his
aim. He then spurred his horse repeatedly to
ride over him, but the animal sprang aside each
time and he remained unharmed. He was atfter-
ward taken ill, captured by the Union cavalry,
sent to Fort Delaware as prisoner of war, finally
released and, going to the West, remained there
till the close of the war.

These brief notes could be multiplied to a
large extent, and those interested in the subject
can obtain fuller information by application to
“North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends,” or
to “The Christian Arbitration and Peace Society,
310 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
— io Le a eid eo
ea A oe we a oe = i he