^%±i ^;^t»4^ J- ^ c«^?^^- V -r -l^- .r^ >>■ ^^w LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ChaiJ... . Copyriii'ht No. vr • -- j^fo/- Shelf UNITED STATES OF AA1ERICA. ■^'>"'>sr'^''' 'A' :?i^^i''; ^K'- OLD SCHOOL DAYS A MEMOIR OF BOYHOOD, FROM EARLIEST YOUTH TO MANHOOD, INCLUDING THE ERA OF THE REBELLION A COMPLETE STORY OF BOY LIFE, AIR-CASTLES, DAY-DREAMS AND ROMANCE. VACATIONS, SPORTS AND RECREATIONS, SUPERSTITIONS, TERRORS AND GRIEFS, ANNIVER- SARIES, ERAS AND HOLIDAYS, LYRICS OF THE REBELLION AND ITS BOYS ARTS AND CRAFTS OF BOYHOOD, PRACTICAL JOKES AND DANGEROUS PRANKS, TRAGEDIES IN THE LIFE OF BOYHOOD, THE OLD HOME AND' ITS MEMORIES, A COMPREHENSIVE RETROSPECTION. APPENDIX: OLD FIELD SCHOOLS BY ANDREW JAMES MILLER THE Bbbcy press PUBLISHERS 1 14 FIFTH AVENUE Condon NEW YORK montrcaJ 84429 Uibrapy of Congr«sa Two Ox'iES Received DEC 5 1900 Copyr^M entry Ct 3o /IS Mo SECOND COPY Oeotnc ana Its memories. In revisiting the scenes of bygone days, the brooks, waysides, and hedgerows are perhaps the last to yield to the effacing finger of Time. They look much the same, in their annual habiliments, as they did in the long ago, before the vandal axe of the woodman had destroyed the growth of forests and groves, which were the landmarks of that period. It is a time, too, when one can find his affections going back strongly to the old days when the same elders and rushes dipped into the limpid brook, and when the old homestead was rich in blossoms, and the moonlight played, fairy- like, upon the ancestral lawn. The same brown thrush is clucking in the hedges, the catbird is alternately singing and fretting, while the identical leather- winged bat sallies forth at evening for his daily in- sect meal. There is the same timorous hare, ven- turing out at twilight, while the katydid and the cricket are singing the same old songs. In the orchards the apple and peach trees have dropped their pink-tipped blossoms, and the tiny fruit gives promise of a luscious harvest by-and-by. The old rail fence (fast giving place to wire) is still in evi- 147 Old School Days. dence, and is bedecked abundantly with wreaths of creeping dewberries and garlands of ground ivy. Tall brambles also rise in its corners and hang out their purple fruit in tempting clusters. Wild phlox here and there raise their solitary stalks and burst out in stately flowers. You select one of these lanes, which are plentiful in the country, that winds among the woodlands and the fields and which has been forever free from the wheels of commerce. It is far away from the echoes of the world, and given over entirely to nature. A slumberous wood borders on one side, while on the other is a field, whose bloom and perfume mingle in unspeakable perfection. A bank runs under the edge of the lane and in the dark, perilous beauty of blossom you observe the deadly wild artichoke and night-shade growing side by side, with the homely, but healthy, wild thyme. Trailing from the high hedge top and wreathing downward to the bank, the honeysuckles dispute with the wild roses and mus- cadines. Out of the depths of the wood comes anon the drowsy cooing of a dove, or the quaint notes of the raincrow. A partridge, with her brood of tiny chicks, comes through a gap and runs across the lane, while ground squirrels, and their aristocratic brothers of the trees, scamper away at your approach. Over there stands the old home, almost given over to decav, and in the hands of strangers, who seem to be waiting for it to tumble down and disapppcar. The empty windows look at us, as though in reproach, 148 The Old Home and Its Memories. while the echoing walls seem to sigh as we pass, be- cause they know its good old days can never come again. Yet, in that old house, there are long biog- raphies — a family history of a generation. We close our eyes, for an instant, and it rises before the mental vision as boyhood's happy home. We climb the flight of steps, down which we trotted as children upon a thousand errands and missions. Here is the tiny room where our first lessons were learned ; there stood the old cupboard from which we filched raisins and cake ; in the corner of the next room stood the old family library, every volume from which we had read before we were sixteen ; down those old stairs we had chased each other in a race to meet father coming home from town. Surely, the ghosts of all who once were here will resent the neglect into which the old home has fallen. The out-houses, servants' quarters, stable and carriage shed, as well as the dovecote, chicken house and dog kennels, have all disappeared and are numbered among the things that were. But all can be located in memory, while a few fragments, scat- tered here and there, tangibly attest their ancient exist- ence. The walks of the lawn, not entirely eradicated, are still marked by straggling and distorted traces of the boxwood which formerly lined each walk. The old oaks are there, gnarled and frowning, as though they, too, were hoping for dissolution, since all else had departed. All the quondam vistas are changed, and, in the vandalism of progress, even the 149 Old School Days. weeping willows on the roadside, leading to the vil- lage, have been cut down. The village itself, now grown into a city, no longer bears any semblance to the town of boyhood. New and strange things have come into life and usurped the landmarks of youth. New faces and alien people now throng its streets, while the scream of whistles, hum of factories and noise of street cars, now take the place of the orderly silence that once reigned. The mother of old school days was the bulwark of home and society. Her lines of life were cast in quiet places, and uninfluenced by the rapid march of the world, she found pleasure and happiness in the routine of domestic duties. One looks back to her with lov- ing reverence, even to the "chastisings" with which she disciplined him for his own good. He regards with awesome delight her self-sacrifices, which, on his part were undeserved, yet she has ministered to him and stimulated in him a desire to be clean enough and upright enough to deserve her companionship. She had but few theories and looked at life with open, honest eyes. She knew herself to be a woman and was content, though in the distance she may have heard the voices of some of her masculine sisters clamoring for more of woman's rights. The great trouble with that class of reformers, in those times, as well as the present, was an inability to form an alliance with their own sex, either offensive or defensive. The mother of long ago had views of her own, but outside of the home circle, or in church matters, she 150 The Old Home and Its Memories. never sought any expression of them. Her duty, first and all the time, was to her home, which was embellished by her economies and made radiant by her virtues and unalloyed spirituality. One of the leading epochs of these old days was the annual house cleaning. Our father used to call it the "annual malady," as he was turned out of doors immediately after breakfast, and informed that the mid-day meal would be very limited that day. This household cataclysm, or mania, breaks out in the spring, soon after the bluebird has returned and be- gins to warble his dulcet notes. It is like the measles — when it breaks out in a family it has to run its course. Some experts have been so harsh as to call it a species of emotional insanity, absolutely incurable. It has well defined and well understood symptoms, which are manifested by a bewildering appearance of scrubbing brushes, mops, soap and tubs, which are menacingly arranged along the back porch the even- ing before the assault begins. When the latter is over, and everything has found its way back to its accustomed place, the exiled and straggling remnants of the family are once more called in from their sundry hiding places and domestic life assumes the "even tenor of its way." This malady is one which has afflicted womankind, from the earliest ages. Pliny mentions the fact that, in his day, the Roman wives turned their households upside down for a week under the pretense of getting things clean, and possibly the expurga- tion of that insect which "has no wings at all;, but 151 Old School Days. gets there all the same." It is quite probable that the famous pictures of the catacombs of Egypt, rep- resenting a lot of household furniture in front of an Egyptian residence, is a record of the same effect. The servant girl problem was never so serious in the old days as it is to-day, but there were trials in- numerable experienced with this queen of the back yard. In the South, in those days, such help was usually negro girls, and while they were in subjection they were often possessed of unruly traits which would sometimes lead to evil consequences. If angered by the mistress, through the effect of some scold or reprimand, it was not improbable that the hired girl would revenge herself in some way upon the chil- dren, or secretly break some valuable piece of bric-a- brac. Many were her methods of cunning, if she were evilly disposed. She was sometimes called into the kitchen to assume temporary charge, and this would usually raise her dander to a high pitch, as she hated such work. To cause her recall, she would adopt some ingenious method, usually an assumption of cheerfulness, and with a predilection for singing, her spirits would exult in noisy sounds; if not sing- ing a solo, she would be banging the andirons, shaking the tables and coal scuttles, poking the fire, rattling the stove lids, turning over chairs, dropping the crockery and giving other evidence of her "joyous- ness." Such soimds are not music to the ear of the good housewife, and it would not usually take long 152 The Old Home and Its Memories. for the servant girl to carry her point and secure her extirpation from the kitchen. But the true empress of the old-time kitchen, as well as the most important and consequential person on the premises, was "Black Mammy." Many have sung her praises, and, from the standpoint of our northern friends, she must have become one of the oldest targets of southern humor and affection. Yet, her memory is dear to the heart of every southern boy, and as human nature has deeper roots than any dictates of literary pleasure, we will go on singing the praises of this blessed old soul until time shall be no more. What could appeal more strongly to the boyish heart than some one who was ever ready to gratify his perennial state of hunger? She would save him the chicken livers and gizzards, or would steal him a luscious tea cake while it was hot from the oven, and would even anticipate his desires in everything that appealed to the stomach. Can a boy ever forget such a friend? It was Black Mammy who came to our relief when a basket of cooked dainties was all that stood in the way of a glorious picnic. She was our champion when tattlers brought us in close proximity to a switching. It is true that she sometimes switched us herself, but only when we knew that it was richly deserved, and we even welcomed it from her, as we full well knew if the matter were adjudicated by Ihe supreme heads of the family, our punishment would have been more severe. Through all the wretched- ness, which was sometimes the lot of childhood, but ,153 Old School Days. was evanescent — usually mere pin scratches — (and were not seriously considered by our elders) it was Black Mammy who came with soothing words and dried up our tears, assuaging our grief by giving us some little dainty. She told us thrilling stories — legends and traditions of her people — all about hob- goblins and haunts, and always with a moral of how the good little boy escaped all harm. In fact, she was the blessed patron of youth — its friend and defender — the guardian angel of boyhood. As to her cooking, and especially those substantial foods which graced the family board, she was vmex- - elled. Nobody could make such delicious rolls and iight bread, otherwise known as baker's bread. This was none of your modern bread, kneaded and cooked by half-naked men, in steaming underground kitchens, and among the cockroaches, spiders and vermin. How much better to contemplate it,, as made by Phyllis, with her round plump arms, bared to the elbow, and well washed hands, coated with paste and flour. This bread of the home-made is also more wholesome, because it is genuine, being innocent of those tricks by which some bakers are indemnified for loss in unsold goods and non-paying customers. And those delicious jams, marmalades and preserves she used to make are now only seen and tasted in memory. We buy them, but they are often an abomi- nation, and, though the mixing may have been done with the skill of practice, the result is not satisfactory, as the ingredients are not properly selected, and too 154 The Old Home and Its Memories much economy practised in order to make something cheap. This is illustrated by the fact that nearly all of the home-made preparations command a much hig-her price in the market. It is a grievous pity that this class of home industries is so rapidly passing into a lost art. There is also the old vegetable garden, with its walks bordered by sage and spinach, thyme and dwarf apples, and the whole enclosed by hedges of fig, quince, plum and pomegranate. In the clean swept walks we have spent hours catching the tiny little worms, called "jacks," which had burrowed in the path, using a sprig of cscalote to tempt him to bite and to draw him from his retreat. One of the prides of childhood was to be allowed to dig up things grown in the garden, such as grass-nuts, artichokes, tubers and ground peas. It was a practical use of the boy's propensity for destruction, while it furnished an op- portunity for him to gratify his everlasting appetite. The "goober" was the boy's especial delight, and, since those old days, has been recognized commercially as possessing many virtues, not only as an excellent cattle food, but its oil, as a lighting fluid and lubri- cant. From all of which it appears that this little plebeian peanut, which hitherto has been looked down upon as the stock-in-trade of the street corner vender, the food of the gallery god, and the luxury of the circus, has other and higher uses, and is playing a useful part in the economy of man and beast. Just outside of the garden is the apple and peach 155 Old School Days. orchard, which has furnished its quota to the pleas- ures and sorrows of boyhood. We could not wait for the tempting fruit to ripen, and in defiance of mother's injunction, plucked and ate the forbidden. In due time the natural result followed — the penalty of dis- obedience and the violation of natural law — when spasms of pain, frightened parents and a scurrying for the doctor, were in order. "Doctor!" What child can utter that name without bitter memories? While to say "medicine" is like talking of gravy to aper- son in the agonies of sea sickness. Mr. Spencer states that the notion of the efficacy of medicine being pro- portioned to its nastiness, is a survival from the old belief that disease was caused from an indwelling demon, who must be driven out by administering something to the patient as disagreeable as possible. In our boyhood we would readily have adopted this view, for if any demon could stand quinine, rhubarb and castor oil, he must indeed be a most determined devil. The doctor has been styled the "Good Samari- tan," and generally stands high in the affections of his rural patrons. In fact, he was a sort of rural oracle, in the old days, in everything except politics and religion, between which he had to steer with caution. It was just as prudent, in the long ago, that the old doctor should shy away also from any criti- cism of those customs, hallowed by age, such as tobacco chewing and smoking, as well as when pul- verized into snuff. The oracle of fashion was generally some gracious, 156 The Old Home and Its Memories. tactful spinster, and, in those days of the crinoline, chignon, waterfall and "Queen Emma" hats, she filled an important place. She smoothed away many embarrassments for her younger and more senti- mental sisters, and was ever a winsome figure in the moving panorama of social life. Our spinster was also an adept in needlework, stitching, smocking, knitting and embroidering with the utmost ease, and gladly imparting such information to the young girls. She also taught them how to make up presents for their sweethearts, in embroidered slippers, hemstitched handkerchiefs, fancy pincushions, sachet and tobacco pouches. Such an oracle is truly worthy of the title. And she was a great stickler for female modesty and for chivalry among their admirers, inculcating many ideas among the sexes, which are run down and trampled upon in the swift pace of modern social life. In the long ago, Saturday was the prominent day of the week, as the village was, at that time, thronged with people from the country districts. Along the outer edge of the sidewalk, in town, runs an almost continuous row of hitching posts, to which the ruralists attached their horses and mules, while those who had come in with ox teams generally secured them to their wagons and loosed the yoke that they might freely eat the timothy that had been brought for them. This Saturday-coming to town was continuous throughout the year, whether the winters were severe and the ground covered with snow, the roads in bad condition, or the summer heat was at its maxi- 157 Old School Days. mum, and from the highways dust would be rising in Winding clouds. The countryman was unde- terred from carrying out his time-honored custom, of visiting town on Saturday. Often he would have no particular business, beyond visiting the postoffice, but come he must, if he had to stop a plow to do so. Among other reasons, the farmer comes in for his mil- let seed, to see the "Squire," to quarrel over taxes, to renew his gin saws, or to buy a few luxuries in the way of sugar, coffee, tobacco and corn whiskey. This custom is still continued down to the present day, with some variations in conditions. The roads are now better, vehicles are lighter and nearly every farmer has an extra team of horses and a good buggy, and can cover the distance in a brief space of time. Saturday was also the boy's holiday from school, and he generally improved it in his own peculiar way, either hunting or fishing, gathering angelica, chestnuts and sweetgum, damming up brooks for swim- ming pools, and, in a hundred other ways he found the day too short to do all he had to do. Sometimes the holiday was utilized in a visit to the country, making an early start, at sunrise, in order to have the full benefit of the day. Such a journey would lead us through long stretches of rich pasture, watered by a slow moving stream ; groups of cattle cropping the bermuda of the meadows and on, through long vistas of shaggy woodland, in whose deep bowery recesses might be the haunts of Pan and his satyrs. There would be long ranges of corn and cotton fields, as well 158 The Old Home and Its Memories. as undulating slopes and hillsides, covered by green and gold effects of wheat and oats. These sights, with the shady lanes, birds, insects and flowers, as well as some fishing, and then repose under a grove of oaks, where lunch was enjoyed, would constitute the visit to the country. The return home would gen- erally develop some of the inevitable consequences of a sojourn in the summer woods — a liberal collection of chigoes and wood-ticks — which generally amused us for the following two or three days. But these are minor troubles, compared to the eternal torments of another summer visitor — the house-fly. A retro- spection of this little creature, leads us to think that he has largely contributed to lessening Christianity in the world, although they might have been employed to soften the heart of Pharaoh, and also to test the patience of Job. Few of us have the consideration and forbearance of Uncle Toby, in turning a captured fly loose, with the amiible and philosophic address to that insect touching the amplitude of the universe. A man may be a Cato in his conceits, but a Catullus in his con- duct. Our chief remembrance of the house-fly was wielding an immense peacock featherbrush, in fan- ning them from the paternal brow, during his post- prandial siesta, after we had taken turn-about in doing the same office at the table. These tasks were cheer- less and tiresome, while they embittered us against the fl.y, and we sought revenge by catching and im- prisoning him in bottles, or depriving him of his 159 Old School Days. wings or legs and turning him loose. In after years I '■ead of the adventures of the bald-headed man and the fly, which vividly brought back my early occu- pation. The bald-headed man lay asleep — this was the prologue to the drama. Act first was the descent of the fly on his head and his awakening from slumber by the energetic slap he gave his cranium in the hope of killing the intruder. But the fly deftly slipped away, alighted on the chandelier, laughed, as he spat on his hands and rubbed his wings for the next round. Then began act second. This was the arousing of vengeance. The bald-headed man secures a towel and lies in wait for the enemy. Effort after effort to secure his prey is made and he then again sinks to rest. The finale of the drama witnesses his waking up, on the fly's invitation to combat, conveyed this time by tickling the hairless man's nose. He seizes his towel once again and pursues the frisky and dastardly in- sect. His towel, in its wild swing, knocks over a pair of vases — then follows the ink stand, and he stops to mop up the ink from his carpet with the towel. Off he goes again in hot pursuit, now desperately mad. He sends the end of his stick, to which he has secured the towel, through a pane of glass. Finally he brings down the chandelier just as the fly sweeps victoriously out of the window, and the bald-headed man is left wiping and painting his face with the inky towel. Can any one wonder, after such an experience, at ihe propriety of the devil's name of Beelzebub, which, being interpreted, is "The Lord of Flies." 160 The Old Home and Its Memories. In concluding this feature of the memoirs of the old home, and old school days, it might be appro- priate to dwell upon the facts of being put to trade, or choosing a profession, but this has so little of the flavor of light-hearted boyhood that it has been omitted. It was also our original intention to make a special feature of a comprehensive comparison of city and country life, in the old times here recorded. This, too, has been abandoned, as the facts incor- porated, at random, in this volume, will sufficiently cover that subject. There was also an inclination to enlarge upon the subject of social life, and the chivalry of the old days, as compared with the present. But there has been so much contributed to this question and there exists such a wide divergence of opinion concerning it — the decline of chivalry — that the author would prefer to avoid entering the controversv- 161 Old School Days. CHAPTER XL H General Retrospection. When the man of mature age looks back, through the long vista of the past, and in silent retrospection, lives over again those by-gone days of childhood, he is pretty sure to fall into an abstruse channel of specu- lation and comparison of the outcome — the successes and failures of those among whom he grew up to the estate of manhood. He goes back into this remote region, mental and material, that is entirely out of the track of worldly ambition, and looks upon the expanse of years spread out in one vast panorama before him. He sees this, that and the other schoolmate ripening in wisdom, and becoming great men. One achieves dis- tinction in the pulpit, another is a famous lawyer, another wears the chaplet of a military chieftain, an- other is a distinguished physician, and still another is a governor or a cabinet minister. He likes to see them rise and gazes with admiration upon every herald of their exploits and genius in the newspapers. In a measure, he feels that he was, in some vague way, an as- sistant to the architecture of their good fortunes, because his life was so intimately blended with theirs in those far-away days of boy life. He remembers, and now 162 A General Retrospection. feels an inward pride in the fact, that in school and college competitions with them, he did not come off second best. He is much struck and impressed at finding this one, whom he remembers as an unmiti- gated dunce, getting on very respectably in life ; he recalls how, at school, he used to woncler whether the difference between the clever boys and the "boobies," would show, later on, the same gulf as was then mani- fest in their relative positions. But all these doubts and speculations are largely solved now, as he looks out over the world and its activities. In some in- stances, strange as it may seem, the "booby" has far outstripped his more clever companions of school days, in the battle they have mutually entered ; the shy and reserved boy, upon whom his bolder playmates imposed, has forged ahead to fame and fortune ; the blubbering "Cissy-boy" and even the poor ostracized "greeny," have long since emerged from the common- place and become successes as merchants and profes- sional men. All along the line are surprises of which there was not even the remotest hint in the early days of boyhood. To the student of human life, as well as all others, this is a sort of unsolved riddle, which displays such contradictions as to be subject to no ordinary methods of analysis. Still, it is possible to find at least a partial explanation in the dormant qualities and latent ener- gies of every human life. It is what might be prop- erly styled the "undiscovered countries" in ourselves. And this view of the subject suggests some interest- 163 Old School Days. ing analogies, which would not be out of place in this retrospective review. There are no midsummer dreams more pleasurable than those which thickly throng upon the fancy, when, in the quiet of one's library, he turns over the leaves of those ancient historians, philosophers and geographers who had pushed their theories to the ut- most verge to which inquiry had dared to extend her power. There could be observed, in tracing the bounds of the then known world, significant blank spaces lettered "terra incognita." How full of sug- gestion, to the fertile imagination, must they have been in those far-off days when human enterprise had still before it such wide fields of labor. In this spot, More could plant "Utopia" ; over there, in that blank was room and to spare for Prospero's enchanted region ; here, in this one was space for Bacon's "New Atalantis" ; while all about was an amplitude of un- discovered country for Cathays innumerable, as well as for El Doradoes and Hesperides unbounded. But it so happens that the world is now parcelled out, with a topographer's particularity and our maps have long since ceased to gape with those delicious voids which the mind seized upon so readily and made its own. Yet, there are other "undiscovered countries," which will exist for human speculation and perplex- ity as long as the world endures. One may not believe wxth the cynic that in every man lurks some thing or thought of evil ; some wickedness so monstrous that if it were revealed, even his nearest and dearest 164 A General Retrospection. friends would learn to hate him. Rather let us con- template the contrary — that an illimitable fund of dor- m mt good is hidden away in this secret storehouse — qualities and abilities undreamed of — which are in reserve for the surprise and applause of his friends. In every county there may be a "village Hampden" — in every state a Hobson. As George Eliot says : "There is a great deal of unmapped country within us." Let us hope that the worst part of what is hidden will be dormant forever. We know for a certainty in glancing at history, that there was much in the glorious Shakespeare which even his most inti- mate associates never knew. It is equally so with great scientists, inventors and philanthropists, as well as with great naval and military captains. It is prominent in all the professional and business world and reaches down to its most commonplace ranks. Then again, there are the "undiscovered countries," toward which each of us reaches his unavailing hands — the dreams we have never realized, the hopes we have never fulfilled, the ambitions we have never sat- i:-fied. We grope about blindly, conscious that we have not found the key which would open the golden gates ; the clue that would lead us to the goal for which we are in search We find ourselves so fettered by circumstances that we cannot plunge blithely into the freedom of our will and wishes. We have a sense of some capacities in us that have never been de- veloped ; and hence it happens that in the map of our lives yawns a dreary gap — a terra incognita — which 165 Old School Days. we have neither the time nor opportunity to fill up. I once knew a man with a strong taste and talent for chemical science; but his duties as a bread-winner so hampered him that he never found the means of cul- tivating his life's ideal. It was almost pitiful to hear him promising that, by and by, he would give up the work he disliked (but to which he was bound by the iron cord of circumstances) and employ his happy leisure in the pursuits of the laboratory. It was not to be, for he died without setting his foot within the "undiscovered country" to which his aspirations had ever pointed. I know another man, now hedged about by unfortunate circumstances, who has a wonderful predilection for experimental science, and who would undoubtedly accomplish much in that field if his en- vironments were different. Timid, retiring and re- served by nature — a simple breath of ridicule was enough, at one time, to cast a shadow upon his life — while the careless world only gives him the passing thought of a "crank." Thus the loftier and purer side of his intellect and character remains for us always a terra incognita. It was this same environment of genius which Dante called "a voiceless thought, sheathed like a sword," and as Archbishop Trench puts it: "When thou art fain to trace a map of thine own heart, As undiscovered land, set down the largest part." But, fortunately for the world and many of its 166 A General Retrospection. modest children, there are some to whom fortuitous circumstance has granted a deep knowledge of self, and has allowed them to tear away the veil of Isis, and bring forth the hidden talents — the dormant quali- ties and energies to which we have referred. In looking back over the career of that other division of our boyhood friends, who. have not been success- ful, and who are probably struggling manfully to "keep the wolf from the door," we are furnished with one of the most pathetic phases of life. We omi^. those whose evil ways, profligate habits, intemperate appetites, shiftless proclivities and general indolence, have brought the legitimate consequences of their folly. They have been their own enemies, and the architects of their own downfall. But we re- fer to that class, who, for the certain amount of health or disease they enjoy or suffer, are not responsible. From the cradle they have been hampered in the struggle of existence with that signifi- cant calamity which we phrase "bad constitution," graven deeply in their frames and written on the muscles, nerves and brain. They have not started life with a clean bill of health and are consequently sorely handicapped in the battle, and through no fault of their own. While it is true that environment can partially atone for this disparity, that consolation is uncertain and only comes through the fickleness of blind chance and impious fate. Therefore, we say there is a pathos in such a case, which arouses every emotion of pity in our nature, because, to him only can come, with prac- 167 Old School Days. tical force, the problem, Is life worth living? A man bravely silent, under such a sorrow, and manfully fac- ing the inevitable, is a sight to command admiration. Such, however, has been our happy privilege, in one or two instances of these old schoolmates, who were so afflicted, that they might, like Cowper, have exclaimed : "I am like the infernal frog out of Acheron, covered with the ooze and mud of melancholy." Yet, it was not so with our afflicted friends, for their heroic struggles against adversity demonstrated that they acted upon the quaint advice of Rufus Choate: "When my constitution is gone, I live on the by-laws." But we can recall many other instances where the lot of our boyhood friends has been strikingly unequal, and which demonstrated that there was not even such a thing as equality in the family. Of two brothers I knew, for example, one was endowed with a splendid physique, with large powers of acquisition and execu- tive capacity, which fitted him for high position ; while the other brother was burdened with a feeble body, subject to pain, and a spirit nervous and retiring, that shut him in like a snail in its shell. Necessarily, it was impossible for these two brothers to enjoy an equal amount of happiness, or that their relative capac- ities should bring an equal amount of success. Still, life has many compensations, while physical infirmities and unfortunate circumstances have served in many cases to brace a man's courage for some signal enterprise. It was in blindness and solitude that Milton sought for the light that "shines inward," 168 A General Retrospection. so that he might see and tell things invisible to mortal sight ; it was in prison that Cervantes and Bunyan wrote their immortal books ; in gloom and obscurity, Cowper wrote his famous verse ; neither wounds nor bodily weakness lessened the courage of Nelson, and, while weighted terribly in the race, Dr. Johnson reached the goal in life. Probably the men who have taught the world most, are those who have suffered the most severely. And this same compensation seems to be a law of nature. Nobody wishes to be poor, and yet the poor man escapes a thousand worries and obligations that the claims of society exact from his richer neighbor. He does not have to go to dinner parties, or to give them ; he is not pestered with un- reasonable demands upon his purse, while the tax gatherer passes him by ; he does not suffer from the plague of servants, and is in no danger of lending money on bad securities. The part which woman has played in our lives, from boyhood to middle age, enriches retrospection with its most significant and charming pictures. Certainly no one in this hard and gritty age can wish to pose as a "man of sentiment," for what brought tears to the eyes of our grandparents, only makes us laugh. We prefer burlesque to tragedy. Still, there are times when the memory of the days between youth and middle age will raise ghosts that cannot be readily laid. It is strange to note how difficult a man finds it to realize the advance of age. It flashes upon him, however, sometimes with a vividness that is startling. 169 Old School Days. We may have had a passionate attachment in youth, which ended as so many early fancies do. For a time it seemed as though no earthly power could sever the attachment between lad and lass. Had they not made vows of eternal fidelity — defying fate, guardians and poverty — and how could love such as theirs ever fade? But it did fade after a few weeks or months of bliss, and twenty years — shall we say ? — have passed since the two parted. Then a chance meeting sud- denly brings the quondam lovers face to face — what a change the years have made ! Is that stout looking matron the same being as the fair, slim and graceful girl, whose soft eyes and winning smile once sufficed to vanquish a lover? That once immaculate brow, though still fair and open, is impressed with the mark of time's passing feet. The cheeks have lost their delicate curves, while she is rubicund, pendulous and many-fleshed. At the same time she gazes upon her old lover with something of the same sensation. Can that corpulent — almost flabby — man, now "bearded like a pard," and the lineaments of whose face show that all his soul is wrapt in the cares of money-getting — be the handsome and enthusiastic youth who had once filled her young girl's heart with dreams of unalloyed happiness ? But while the old Queen of Hearts may have dropped out of our lives, another empress, more glori- ous and lasting, has entered and possessed the heart. The now queen is not a fleeting fancy, like the old 170 A General Retrospection. one, which had, meteor-like, flashed across us, and then quickly disappeared in boundless space. She has come into our lives as a permanency — a helpmeet — to share all of its lights and shadows, and to invest it with a peculiar grace and tenderness it never knew before. She has created home, consecrated it with genuine happiness, and thrown over it an atmosphere of quiet and contentment that is everywhere an inex- haustible benediction. She is no extraordinary wom- an, and lays no claim to the power and force of genius. All of her intellectual vigor, culture, imagi- nation and passion are concentrated in aiding her hus- band in achieving whatever has been undertaken. And who can fully appreciate such immeasurable aid, which is daily giving forth such tangible results in the business and professional world? There is scarcely a department of human activity in which she is not the "power behind the throne." It is not intended by this assertion to enter into a discussion of that scholastic question as to the relative or com- parative mental power of men and women. We sup- pose it will be accepted, that women are not equal to men in many things ; and it is equally true of the converse. But experience shows that women are gifted with a quickness of analysis, a clearness of per- ception, unfailing good sense and a faculty of prompt decision, which make them invaluable as advisers. On the other hand, the cynic will smilingly protest that this is idealism, and that unhappy and disappointing alliances predominate. He will point out the social 171 Old School Days. unrest, the scandals and divorces which daily fill the public prints. Affliction, adversity, incompatibility, and many other things, have been the fruitful cause of these mesalliances, but, on the whole, happy mar- riages have certainly been the rule. I am, however, sadly reminded of the cynic's charge, when I recall a most unfortunate case, which I will here relate, sub- stituting fictitious names. Among my most intimate associates no one stood higher in my esteem than George Hartley. He was both my schoolmate and college chum, and the strong friendship which had bound us together in school days was continued and strengthened when we had left our alma inatcr and entered upon the sterner struggle of the battle of life. His inclinations early tended toward the legal profession, and being finely equipped with superior talent, commanding address, and rare gifts of oratory, he soon made his way into the front rank, and his advice and counsel were always in demand in important cases. It was when he had reached this state of a certain and a liberal income, and was upon the high road to fame and fortune, that the oft-deferred subject of matrimony came into his mind, and took sudden pos- session of his whole being. Despite his erudite powers in matters of law, he was more or less simple m affairs of sentiment, and was easily fascinated by out- ward charms, coupled with wit, vivacity and bril- liancy. In this delusion, however, he was by no means alone, as the majority of men display very 172 A General Retrospection. little practical sense in the all-important selection of a helpmeet, which is equally true of the opposite sex. Even the most sensible of men are swayed easily by the charms of a pretty face, and a woman of tact and discretion could capture, at will, the most difficult of them, if she really appreciated her powers. This fact is just as true now as it was in the early days of the world, and will so continue to the end of time. But George did the most natural thing in the world when he selected, from the large coterie of his ac- quaintances, one of the sweetest, prettiest and most accomplished young ladies of the smart set in which he moved. Lillian was the most popular beauty of a large and brilliant bevy of charming girls, and her train of admirers could be counted by the score, to the envy of her less fortunate sisters. In fact, her univer- sal popularity was one stimulus to the pressing suit of George, and when it became known that he had secured such a prize he was the subject of general congratulation. Yet the average judgment of the world, in affairs of this kind, is very unreliable, because it is super- ficial and thoughtless. It disregards all questions of the law of affinities and has no concern for the phi- losophy of fitness and compatibility. The same is true of one's friends, who are often the innocent cause of much of the marital unhappiness of those near- est and dearest to them, by stimulating and encourag- ing unfortunate alliances, without considering the 173 Old School Days. deeper conditions which go towards making ideal unions. But George and Lillian were married and made an extended European tour, returning after several months, with every outward appearance of the most supreme contentment and happiness. In the mean- time, I had left that locality and located in business in a distant state. I received occasional letters from my old-time friend, which were not such epistles as one would expect from a happy bridegroom. Finally, after a somewhat longer delay than usual, I was made very apprehensive for his state of mind and happiness by the reception of the following letter: "Dear Old Chum : I am married now, for some considerable time, and, for the life of me I don't know that I gladden or sorrow at the bargain. Nor is this quandary produced by any loss of those charms and graces which first attracted me to Lillian. On the contrary, they are measurably increased, and I suppose I should be the prouder of them. But the deuce of the business is, she is surrounded by a galaxy of beaux, whose attentions she, by no means, discour- ages, but to whom she is more complacent than to myself. In fact, I can scarcely return home from the office that I don't meet her with some spruce fel- low acquaintance, with whom she appears to be en- joying herself as well as she ever did in my own company. Indeed, she seems to be greatly flattered by these gallantries and attentions of other men — 174 A General Retrospection. decidedly more than I do. Furthermore, there is not an entertainment, a hop, a german, or a cotilHon, not a single one, that I am not compelled to attend with her, no matter how I may feel about it, and you know my prejudices against too much of this form of diver- sion for married people. Once there, I am left com- pletely to shift for myself, and get only an occasional glimpse of my wife, as she is whirled around, in the embrace of different fellows, until sheer exhaustion demands a rest. "Old chum, I may be jealous or I may be a 'durned' fool, to allow such matters to have such a powerful influence with me, but these things are, nevertheless, robbing me of all peace of mind, and I am just as miserable and unhappy as one well can be. If I gently chide her, or attempt to forbid her humors about young men, she becomes angry and hysterical, says I am a jealous brute, talks of her virtue and all that sort of thing. And, indeed, I feel like a wretched brute, after she has delivered herself of one of these spasms of indignation and winds up in a paroxysm of sobs. Of course, I abandon all fur- ther rebuke, kick myself for having started it, and wind up with the most abject apologies for my mis- conduct and 'brutality' — but what am I to do? If I calmly permit the matter to rest, without protest, the license will bring more discomfort and trouble, while I will continue to be as uneasy and miserable as a man of honor can well afford to be. "Yours, etc., George." 175 Old School Days. I read and re-read this letter carefully, and after long pondering over its contents, I laid it aside and fell into something of a philosophic mood. It was the reflex of so many similar cases that rapidly trooped into memory, and all were generally outside the pale of friendly interference. Man, in his very essence, is selfish, even about his griefs and disappointments. He will often court your opinion and advice, but, down deep in his heart he has formulated the answer he would have you make, and no other will suit him. He will severely criticize those near and dear to him, ostensibly reaching out for your approval, but, if you are wise, you will evade such approbations and keep your opinion to yourself. All of these things I fully weighed before venturing a reply upon the delicate questions and troubles enumerated in my friend's letter. But the possession of his entire confidence was one of the cherished things of our long friendship, and I mentally ruled it cowardice for me to hesitate longer to speak out plainly and to give the subject all the philosophy I could bring to bear upon it. My reply was thoughtful, earnest and serious, because I was thoroughly familiar with the depths of his nature and fully realized that he was approaching a crisis in his married life that was likely to precipitate life-long unhappiness, unless something was done to stem it. In due course my letter reached him, and it was several weeks before I received a reply, briefly thank- ing me for my friendly interest, while, at the same 176 A General Retrospection time, suggesting that the affair was now beyond con- trol, and that heaven only knew what would be the outcome. That some grievous circumstance had in- tervened I was quite sure, though I have never been able to determine what it was. My knowledge of his intense pride and high sense of honor, coupled with the ordeal through which I knew he was passing, sug- gested, as if by inspiration, that he was meditating some desperate alternative. Believing that I had great influence with him, I resolved to take the first train south, to have a personal conference, and to that end made every preparation to leave the following morn- ing. That night a telegram reached me bearing briefly the fatal tidings that George had committed suicide. In the course of these memoirs I have had much to say concerning the terrors and superstitions of boy- hood, as such things are deeply interwoven in the career of youth. Of course, all sensible people have set down as vagaries and halhicinations everything connected with haunts and ghosts, while at the same time something will now and then occur which will leave us in a very puzzled frame of mind. While science can generally explain everything that may ap- pear unusual or occult, I will here relate an experi- ence, certainly extraordinary, which, to this day, fails of any clear explanation. That it can and will be explained, in some natural way, I have no doubt, but I give the facts just as they occurred. 177 Old School Days. Several years ago, after many previous postpone- ments, I made a visit to an old college chum in a dis- tant state. Though formerly one of the most jovial and companionable fellows, he had degenerated into a recluse, with just a slight taint of the misanthrope. This was evidenced by the selection and surroundings of his home, its weird furnishings and the general solitariness of everything pertaining to it. His house was located in a more or less sombre stretch of country, about three miles from the railroad station, and ap- proached from the highway through a long avenue of gloomy, sentinel pines. Here, with no other com- panions than two old family servants, he had passed eight or ten years of voluntary exile, as the indulgent lord and master of an immense landed estate. He greeted me with some of the old-time affability and geniality, but I could see, at a glance, that great changes had been wrought in his personal appearance, while his strained effort to keep up a flow of spirits indicated that something out of the ordinary was haunting the mind and refusing submission to the will. My first impression was that his secluded, hermit life had gradually sapped his flow of good humor and left him a prey to the morbid melancholy thoughts which occasionally seized him in the old college days. But, as we talked over those quondam times and recounted our numerous escapades together, he seemed to gradually and imperceptibly fall back into his old self, utterly oblivious of the present. It was near midnight when we bade each other good-night, and I 178 A General Retrospection. was conducted to my room on an upper floor. The weariness of a long journey had not been reaHzed until now, when the sight of a large and inviting bed sug- gested glorious visions of a long, sweet rest, which was never to be mine for that night. I had partly disrobed and my mind continued much absorbed and perturbed by the strange changes that I had observed in my friend, when I was almost startled by his noise- lessly opening the door of my chamber and entering. With apologies for the seeming disturbance, he said that he had neglected to tell me that I should disre- gard any noises that might be created below, during the night, as one of the servants was unfortunately addicted to somnambulism. With this brief speech and injunction he seemed to hurriedly leave the room, as I laughingly told him it would require a cannon to wake me after I was once in the arms of Morpheus. On further reflection, however, I recalled how he had so quickly left the room, evidently desirous that I should make no further enquiries. This fact, in con- nection with other singular surrounding circumstances did not reassure me, and I felt sure that some mys- tery was surely overshadowing the house. By the time I had finished undressing, locked the door, and put the light out, I had forgotten my vision of rest and found myself in an unusual state of wakefulness. I heard distinctly the closing and locking of a door below, and then all was silence. Under such conditions, with the mind perfectly clear and each sense painfully acute, it is curious how 179 Old School Days. sounds will emerge out of the silence, sounds, which, in the day time, would be passed over and altogether neglected. Listening attentively I could hear, clear and shrill, the distant scream of a locomotive as it entered the town. As it stopped, I could but think of the bustle and commotion at the little station, and how all was still and motionless in my room. When it was gone I remained quiet for a long time, marvelling, and somewhat annoyed at this sleeplessness, and won- dering whether I had better not get up, strike a light and read. But it was a clear, lucid sleeplessness, void of any improper balance between mind and body. The tick of my watch became painfully apparent, as it was an invariable custom to place it under my head at night. I heard its muffled, throbbing sensa- tion under the pillow, until I could stand it no longer and got Up and put it in a drawer. I had barely settled back upon the bed and my thoughts resumed their excited trend of expectancy and foreboding, when a loud, piercing shriek burst upon the stillness, and reverberated throughout the building. In a mo- ment I was out of bed, and in the succeeding excite- ment I hardly knew what I did, until I found myself at the door of my friend's room. Without further ceremony I turned the knob, but found the door locked on the inside. In my excite- ment I attempted to force it, and, defeated in this, I called out to him to open and admit me. For the only answer I heard a deep, prolonged groan, as though he was in the throes of the most intense agony. m A General Retrospection. Withoitt hesitation, I threw myself against the door with such force that it was ahiiost torn from its hinges, and flew inward against a dressing case with such energy that its panels burst out. By the dim light of a lamp, turned low on the hearth, I saw that the violent commotion of my entrance had been unobserved by my friend, whose wild eyes were set upon the ceiling and each breath brought a most heartrending groan. Just at this moment, one of the old servants, aroused by my breaking into the room, appeared upon the threshold, exhibiting unusual terror. He recognized me at once. "In de name ob Gawd," he exclaimed, and as he glanced at his master his consternation was even greater, for he beheld him in a condition he had never seen before. We quickly turned up the lights, and, without further explanation, devoted ourselves to the strange, pallid form upon the bed. One glance more told us plainly that it was a case demanding immediate medical attention, and the servant was dis- patched posthaste for the doctor. As he lived but a short distance away, he quickly responded to the sum- mons, especially as he entertained a deep personal regard for my friend, and seemed familiar with the singular malady with which he was afflicted. At his gentle, but somewhat singular request, I left the room, with the understanding that I should be called when needed. I repaired to my chamber, dressed myself, and came down upon the portico to await developments, The 181 Old School Days. whole thing had burst upon me so suddenly (though not entirely without premonition) that I found myself very nearly unstrung. That unearthly shriek and the singular prostration and condition of my friend, fur- nished a thrilling, excited train of thought, which I must have indulged for some time, when I was again aroused by the good-natured old doctor beckoning me to join him in the yard. Day had fully dawned by this time, and the birds had started their orchestra in the wood- lands. The old physician led the way to a rustic seat down the avenue, and here we sat down and he dis- closed to me the outlines of the deep mystery which had led up to the exciting drama of the night. From my intimacy to his patient, and the actual part I had played in the matter, it was natural, he truly said, that I should be mystified and would seek some ex- planation. He then recounted a terrible tragedy, which had oc- curred in this house during the past generation, when the uncle of my friend, in a state of drunken debauch, had wilfully murdered his wife. Through the promi- nence of the family, the liberal use of money, and under a plea of emotional insanity, he had escaped the vengeance of the outraged law, but the punish- ment which seemed reserved by Providence was far more effective and terrible than any human law could have been. Though the immediate effect of his crime had caused a reformation in the habits of the uncle, his peace of mind was gone forever and a merciless conscience smote him with an unrelenting iron hand. 182 A General Retrospection. The last dying scream of the murdered wife is said to have continued to echo in the still watches of the night, while her spectral form, it was also positively stated, glided in and out of his chamber, with cease- less taunts and maledictions. Sleep became impos- sible, as the haunting vision was ever present, and by this avenging process of mental torture and ceaseless terror, his mind soon became unbalanced and he ended his days in a madhouse. My friend, the inheritor of his uncle's estates, had scouted the idea of the haunted house and refused to believe that there could be such a moral end in nature. He contended that the Christian religion, respected and revered by the wisest of mankind, was an eternal protest against such ridiculous supernatural forces. But the unfortunate young man was doomed, so the old doctor said, to a fatal legacy of one of the ironies of Nature, which, instead of being a fond and indul- gent mother, became an avenger and a merciless tor- turer. And, as the ways of Providence are inscru- table, it must be accepted that the sins of his ancestors were visited upon his head. The seal of fate was set upon that house and the continued appearance of the wraith of the murdered woman, as well as her dying scream, indicated the perpetuity of the curse placed upon it. My friend lingered between life and death for months, and when he had recovered his full faculties and contemplated what he considered the actuality of the haunted house, his determined resolution was quick 183 Old School Days. and effectual. With his own hand he appHed the torch to it, and thus perished and forever disappeared the last vestige of "The Family Skeleton." I will add, in this connection and in explanation, so far as it goes, that I was subsequently informed that the old doctor was a spiritualist, and that he may have imbued my friend with that strange doctrine. That designing parties should have invented these weird sounds and representations to terrify an innocent mortal, seems too monstrous to believe, and yet I cannot banish such a thought from my mind. At any rate my complete confusion and bewilderment has reached out, in many ways and directions, to find a rational solution of this strange happening. But another strange feature of this singular occur- rence was my next meeting with this unfortunate friend, who had long ago left the country and had been given up as dead by his relations. Eighteen months ago business called me to the Republic of Venezuela. I had gone down into the interior, and, on the border of that vast, treeless plain, known as the Llanos, stopped one evening to lodge at a small village, several days' journey from the coast. The information being given that an American resided in the town, led us to visit him, and, to my utter amazement, it was this old-time friend, whose queer reception and general demeanor, indicated only too clearly that his mind was unbalanced upon any subject pertaining to the past and his native land. Otherwise, he was contented with a small business of shipping cacao, or chocolate 184 A General Retrospection. beans, and was highly esteemed by the people in the village. That the disappointment and wreck of this once brilliant life were solely the result of a voluntary iso- lation from the fellowship of convivial and congenial spirits, I could not doubt. He had become a veritable priest of despair, and, as I listened to his scorn, hate and misanthropy, I was forced to think that these were the last echoes of a dying soul. It is pleasing, however, to place in juxtaposition to this unfortunate man and former friend and school- mate, the life of another quondam collegemate, which was in every detail antipodal to the misanthrope. Though long afifliction had made him a prisoner to home, and shut out that broad view of the world afforded by good health, travel and recreation, he was never other than cheerful and hopeful and shed a radiance of pleasure upon all those who came in contact with him. Possessing a brilliant mind and facile pen he occasionally gave to the press articles upon living subjects which were always brimful of good nature and a perennial flow of wit and humor. Indeed, he made sport of the morbid-minded and lam- pooned those common platitudes as to the degeneracy of the age, with merciless severity. In a reply to Max Nordau, among other things, he said: "In the middle ages rapine and murder were the order of the day ; the upper crust of society was rep- resented by piratical kings and robber barons and even the Crusaders served the devil in God's name. Under 185 Old School Days. the rule of the Bourbons of France, as well as the Tudors and Stuarts in England, dissoluteness and debauchery were mere passing faults and the most ardent advocate of 'ye good old times' can scarcely have much to say in favor of a state of society, which made possible the proverb, 'It's a wise child that knows its own father.' " Reverting to the subject of superstition, from which we have slightly digressed, I have already referred to the belief of the southern negroes in various charms and miracles. It is proverbial that they are easily moved by agitation and especially when this is asso- ciated with some unusual manifestation of nature or of man. The knowledge of this fact has given rise to many impostors among that race who have not hesi- tated to play upon their credulity with a view to ex- torting the little earnings of the deluded devotees. As an illustration of how a simple delusion will work upon their superstitious natures, we will relate an occurrence of many years ago among the blacks of middle Georgia. A strange sound was heard to issue from the clouds and, while nothing could be seen to produce it, the tintinnabulation of what might have been a goblin bell was brought to their ears. This sound was heard daily, and at intervals, and the negro sorcerers and soothsayers found it an excellent opportunity to ply their wiles, interpreting the sound as the voice of God, betokening the approach of the millennium. For weeks these prophets kept them wrought up with the firm conviction that the end of 186 A General Retrospection. the world was at hand. The heavenly bell continued to ring — only in the day time — and had been heard at different points, over a wide area of country. On a certain day the faithful gathered at an old schoolhouse on a hill, when the far-away tinkle of the celestial bell was heard. It stimulated their prayers, and as the sound strangely grew nearer, their moans and lamentations went up in a higher key. There was a hard thump on the roof of the building, and the rattling of a clapper as the bell ceased to strike. Some of the more curious rushed outside to find that it was only a turkey buzzard, around whose neck some one had tied a bell, and in this way the momentous mystery of the celestial sounds was ex- plained. Another negro prophet sprang up, soon after this, claiming to be the licensed apostle of the Most High, and assuming to have a divine message which he was to communicate to the denizens of the earth. In his holy character he communed with the clouds, and could hear the voices of angels issuing therefrom. He was told, he said, to communicate with his fol- lowers, and to tell them that the day of resurrection was near at hand, and that within a few months the Archangel would come down upon a white steed to separate the just from the unjust — the sheep from the goats. Preposterous as were the professions of this extremely ignorant negro, he created a panic among the plantations south of Atlanta, and, for a consider- able time the zealots would do no work, but busied 187 Old School Days. themselves with preparations for the final coming of the Son of Man. He also professed to perform miracles through charms, and by this cunning ruse accomplished the death of one of his hated relatives, for the murder of whom he was subsequently arrested, tried and sent to the penitentiary. This broke up the fol- lowing he had established, and he was at once heartily denounced as an unmitigated impostor. Many seers and prophets of this type arose and flourished for a brief time, during our childhood, but they were in- variably exposed. About ten years ago there was added to this black theocracy of the South the stupendous pretensions of a negro woman, called "Scinda," who resided in the levee districts of Mississippi. Like all of her pred- ecessors, Scinda claimed to hold a divine message, which had been reposed in her by the angels as the accredited priestess, and the inspired leader among her people. She was cunning in her methods and when she failed to effect any miraculous cure she would declare that the subject or victim was so filled with evil that he did not possess any divine affinity that could be reached through God's message. It was subsequently ascertained also that she had an ex- tended knowledege of medicine, and while she pre- tended to use charms and herbs she shrewdly in- cluded those drugs known to be efficacious. Through these methods she gained fame as a performer of rriracles, while she was careful to make only such prophecies as could be easily modified to meet con- 188 A General Retrospection. tingencies. But she did prophesy that the world would surely come to an end on Christmas of 1887. This was considerably ahead, and gave her an oppor- tunity for quite a harvest of money, as her votaries increased with marvellous rapidity. No divine leader of that race ever before achieved such a following, as she also had some very wise and moral tenets in her faith, denouncing every class of evil and declared that every person should be punished in the other world, according to the degree of their sins and their behavior on earth. As the time for the fulfillment of her prophecy drew near, her empire widened and her strength waxed stronger, until the eventful day arrived and passed without that dreadful ending of the world. "Scinda" endeavored to hold her sceptre by some clover explanation, but her influence rapidly melted away and she finally disappeared. No superstition or religion of black sorcery has ever exhibited such vitality as that of Voudoo or Voodoo worship. As it was one of the most prominent super- stitions associated with the boyhood of the south — rehearsed perpetually to youth by the negroes — it de- serves more than passing notice in these memoirs. Voodooism has its origin from Africa, where ser- pent worship has been known as far back as the mythic epoch of man. It is mentioned by Pliny as in vogue among the African slaves that were brought to Rome, where the same rites and ceremonies are described as s.ill existing to this day. Its first home in the West- 189 Old School Days. em world was Hayti, from whence it spread over the West India islands of Porto Rico, Martinique and Cnba, finally entering Louisiana in the time of the French occupation. From there it gradually spread over the southern districts of Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina. In this translation of the peculiar cult, from its native home on the banks of the Congo, it has lost many of its characteristic features, but one, the worship of the serpent, has sur- vivied all of its migrations. The symbol of Voodooism is the python, but as that serpent is not available on the Western Continent, they have selected the most deadly and venomous of all our reptiles — the rattlesnake. The sacrifices to the serpent were formerly of the most heinous and re- volting character, including human beings — usually an infant about a year old — and the orgies were char- acterized by the most diabolical cannibalism. This is thought to still prevail in some of the remote dis- tricts of Hayti, while evidences of it are not wanting in some of the sequestered bayous of Louisiana. This feature of the ceremonies among the southern blacks is supplied by a dog, cock or a pig. The great secretiveness of the votaries of Voodoo has always proven a barrier to any clear and well de- fined information as to their strange rites and incan- tations, as it is extremely doubtful if any white man ever witnessed a genuine Voodoo celebration. What little that is known has been gleaned from old confi- dential negroes, by more or less accidental words 190 A General Retrospection. dropped to their most trusted "white people." As much as the negro loves money, no inducement has ever been sufficient to extort from him any of the secrets of this ancient worship. His lips are sealed as tightly as though life depended upon it, while it is not improbable that such is the fact, and that his life would pay the penalty for divulging such secrets. The following general facts, however, have been obtained: — that they are serpent worshippers and hold annual convocations on the 24th of June, which corresponds in the Anglican church to St. John's day ; that, dur- ing a period of several days they go through many strange rites, which include sacrifices, incantations and orgies ; that the queen and priestesses are old women, and no man holds authority in their seances ; that they claim a sort of apostolic succession for the Voodoo sorcerers, and that none others are possessed of witchcraft except a few neophytes yearly ordained; that the seeresses are familiar with some features of the occult sciences of mesmerism, hypnotism and mind reading, having some similarity to the devil- worship of the East ; that they are familiar with ihe medical virtues and deadly narcotic properties of cer- tain herbs and barks ; that the priestesses exercise un- bounded influence over their votaries, who will do their bidding if it should lead to the sacrifice of life; that the Evil Eye can be cast upon an ofifender and direful consequences will follow, unless the "conjur" is removed ; that this weird faith is embraced by twenty-five per cent, of the most ignorant negroes 191 Old School Days. from North Carolina to the Mexican border, while it exercises a most potent influence over their daily lives, for weal or woe. This idea of being "conjured" or placed under the vengeful spell of the Evil Eye can be encountered everywhere among the negroes, and no memories of boyhood are more vivid than those things rehearsed concerning this baneful in- fluence. The negroes displayed more terror of such an influence than they did of the lash they might re- ceive for disobedience, and from this has arisen the term "possessed," like those afflicted with devils in sacred writ. The most prominent example of this character, which has ever been published, comes from New Orleans. Oscar J. Dunn was the first lieutenant-governor of Louisiana, with Governor Warmoth as Chief Execu- tive in 1869. He was of pure negro blood, black as a crow, but well educated, for he was a Jamaican. It became rumored among the negro members of the Legislature, then sitting in New Orleans, that Dunn was "conjured," and would die on the night of the 15th of that month. Dunn laughed it to scorn. "Why, you don't think that I believe in such super- stitions as this?" he said to some friends who wanted Maria Levaux, the greatest Voodoo queen of her time, consulted. Dunn was a man of powerful frame, about forty years old. His friends became more uneasy as the middle of the month drew nigh. On the fatal night three of them insisted upon sleeping in the room with him. He appreciated the kindly solicitude, but said 192 A General Retrospection. it was needless. They remained with him until quite midnight, and then escorted him home. Adjoining his sleeping-room was another, the two connecting by folding doors. In this room was a bed. The friend who was most anxious, said, "I will sleep here if you will let me." "Certainly," Dunn responded, "I will be glad to have you." They went to bed. It was then almost one o'clock. The friend had just fallen into a sound sleep when he was startled by what he thought was a shout from Dunn. He sprang up in time to hear him groan heavily. Badly scared, he lighted the gas in both rooms and went to Dunn's bed. He was dead. His face was distorted, and a hand was bleeding. There was nothing upon which it could have been struck to cause a wound. The death was a profound sensation. Two of the very first physicians (one had been medical director on the staff of General Beauregard during the war) ex- amined the dead man. They found the brain normal, no sign of apoplexy or heart disease. They would never say — if they knew — of what strange stroke this man died. Under the bolster, beneath the pillow on which Dunn had been sleeping for six months, the terrified negroes found a little image of wax, with a pin stuck through the head and another through the body, and on the breast was a strip of paper on which was written in a very fine, faint hand, in French, the words, "O. J. Dunn will surely die on the night of the 15th." 193 Old School Days. The mystery of his death was never solved. Voo- dooism? Quien sabe? Who can tell what it is? With apologies for this extended dissertation upon Voodooism, we would interpose the excuse that it is a cult without a written history and being so closely allied with boy life, it is a system of faith not un- worthy the attention given to it. But we pass on to another and altogether different subject — social life. The society of ante-bellum days in the South was constructed upon a more or less liberal basis, and was less hampered by those griefs and grievances which characterize it nowadays. I will not attempt to speak for those aristocratic circles, in certain populous centers, which were noted for their exclusiveness, and whose system of caste was based upon blood. This may be defended and justified by its votaries, but it did not represent the true social status in a general sense of that period. The society of old school days was less of a wild flurry at imita- tion, or the frantic effort to excel in any expensive entertainment or other diversion of social life. The glory and dream of that old period seemed to be an effort to rather appear unostentatious, and if rivalry existed it was in vieing with each other for a more wholesome welcome and unbounded hospitality. Out of the fleeting panorama of the past, but few scenes are more indelibly perfect in memory than those gatherings, especially during the holiday season, when old and young had met for a jolly winter evening. Fires blazed merrily in every grate, or from behind 194 A General Retrospection. huge polished brass firedogs, where there was a des- ultory cracking and spluttering of hickory logs; he halls and rooms were aglow with lights from great sperm-oil lamps, supported by shining candelabra, or great silver and brass candlesticks ; negro servants, dressed daintily and appropriately in linsey frocks, white aprons and embroidered kerchiefs, passed among the throng, with waiters of eggnog, syllabub, zephyr- wafers and assorted cake ; the host, with alternating groups of the male guests, repaired anon to the wine closet, where many choice brands were to be had, to warm the soul and increase the flow of convivial spirits ; a string band, composed of Ethiopians, oc- cupied the end of the hall, which discoursed many of the airs prevalent in those days, and varied with vocal selections, in which the real darkey excels all of his white imitators on the minstrel stage. One room would be devoted to the younger set, watched over by their dusky guardians, where many parlor games would be enacted, such as "blind man's bluff," "consequences," "forfeits," "snip-snap- snorum," and various other innocent games peculiar to that time. Another room — usually the large and spacious dining room — was prepared for the older guests, where dancing was the order and which was generally opened with a cotillion and closed with the majestic and inspiring Virginia reel. These social gatherings of the long ago enforced no strict rules as to the character of evening dress, though the ladies were always attired in their prettiest silks and the 195 Old School Days. gentlemen in their best broadcloth. It was the cus- tom, when the guest were ready to depart and brave the wintry night, to put into each carriage a heated brick, to keep warm the dainty feet, which were only encased in thin white slippers. The gentlemen, es- pecially those who were not escorting the ladies, adopted other means — usually of a liquid character — to ward off the evils that might otherwise accrue from exposure in the rigorous night air. While these things were transpiring another soiree or reception was being held in the kitchen, presided over by "Black Mammy," in which all of the wait- resses, nurses, carriage-drivers and body servants were regaling themselves with the usual large surplus of dainties and drinks that had not been consumed at the "whi' folks" table. There were "young bloods" in those days, who possessed all of the frailties, follies and vices of their modern brothers, but that in- glorious habit of "getting full" was indulged at long range — scrupulously remote — from any of the female sex, as the penalty was severe. One misstep, by ab- ject atonement, might be condoned, but a second offense was almost sure to lead to ostracism. Scandal was treated with utmost seriousness, and an investi- gation would promptly trace out the source from whence it originated, and the result was not infre- quently a meeting on the field of honor. As a result there was a more guarded use of words in reference to the fair sex, while their good names were exempt from those contemptible and cowardly insinuations 196 A General Retrospection which are too frequently tolerated in the modern days. This is intended as no invidious comparison, because that period of our national life was largely a sentimental one, when chivalrous deeds were sub- limated above everything, and the "Code" was a diver- sion which possessed many peculiar charms. The age was also sentimental, and though a great national evil was eradicated, even the Civil war was the outcome of a mere sentiment, which swept over the country, and upset a nation. In those days we were told that for this and vari- ous other things we would enjoy the lasting grati- tude of posterity. Indeed, it is one of the happy diver- sions of nearly all ages and epochs to draw checks upon the bank of posterity. We pass on to them all of our unanswered questions, our unsolved problems, as well as our moral, social, religious and political diffi- culties. In fact, we dedicate to posterity all of the obstacles we cannot overcome and the perplexities through which we do not see our way. For that vague, indefinite and unknown coming race we, in turn, waged wars, founded colonies, explored Arctic wastes, invented the telegraph, caused social upheavels, laid Atlantic cables, expelled Mexican monarchies, en- forced the Monroe doctrine, and gave great impetus to the car of progress. In due course of time, we the chil- dren of another and past generation have become that posterity, to whom these legacies were bequeathed. What do we think of the legacies and how much gratitude have we supplied for the inheritance? 197 Old School Days. While thanking these ancestors for fighting the Civil war, we, their posterity, must foot the bills in the national debt and the pension rolls. And can we go down on our knees and thank our predecessors for having saddled upon us the "Negro Question," and the specious theories of socialism and anarchy? Have we not been compelled to rewrite their histories and to readjust their philosophical systems? On the whole, we cannot be expected to acknowledge our ob- ligations with unlimited or unmixed fervor. One of the greatest pleasures experienced by a traveller, as he makes his way through a new country, is to pause on the green summit of some lofty hill and retrace the windings of his previous course. He sees the tangled forest depths, through which he toiled with so much painful effort, and the leafy valley, where he lingered among the buds and blossoms and the warble of birds ; he follows the shining stream, which cheered him for many a league with the sparkle of its waters ; he recalls the thorny waste over which he dragged his bleeding feet ; he espies the bower, with its scented wreaths of trailing rose and woodbine, where he allowed himself a brief repose ; and he sums up his various experiences with a grateful sense that he is the better and the stronger for them, with a feeling that even those which seemed harshest and most austere have, by some strange alchemy, been converted into sweet felicities. The wounded feet have been healed ; the tired limbs have recovered their vigor; he remembers only the cool glades, and the 198 A General Retrospection. haunted avenues of the forest ; the thorn bushes of the wilderness have ceased to be a terror to him, while he still feels the freshness and balm of the breezes that blow across its open space ; his soul, once so small, has expanded until it is able to embrace the wide con- sciousness of all the magical region, through which he has steadily plodded ; its wonderful vision flits be- fore his eyes, its sound of music is in his ear, its mystery is in his blood. "This is life," he says to him- self, "and these are mine, while life is mine." In the same way, when we arrive at certain stages of our earthly pilgrimages, we find it good and use- ful to take a retrospect of the past and gaze at will through the long vista of far-off years. Thus we pass idly over the successes and wrecks of our lives. Like Bunyan's pilgrim, as we go forward, we leave so much of our burden behind us that our step grows lighter, as the road lengthens. The years have brought with them many failures and disappointments, many moods of anguish and bitterness, many betrayals and deceits. But, from the vantage ground afar off, we look back upon these disorders and irregularities of Nature with- out pain, as they narrow down to a space too small for measurement. The trouble, which cuts like a knife to-day, loses much of its edge within a week, and in six months is blunted quiet. The lava flood issues from the womb of the volcano, hissing and seething, a stream of molten fire; but before long it cools and hardens and covers the surface with fair vegetation and the smile of flowers. And, in like manner, over 199 Old School Days. the burning tracts of our past, as the fires of passion die out, verdure and blossoms grow and multiply until we can see but the faintest signs of what once has been, when, in later years, we survey the prog- ress of our lives. There are valleys of shadows, no doubt, but it is the sunlit hill-tops that catch the gaze and carry us straight back into those joyful moods, when we stared at an imaginary world — at the golden towers and shining battlements of El Dorado, not knowing that we were staring at a vision of our own ereation. But it was excellent to have such dreams, and a still more excellent thing that we are able to recall them. I do not doubt that Moses, on the summit of Pisgah, turned awhile from the vision of the Promised Land, to re- trace the scene of his wanderings with the Children of Israel, and gratefully praise heaven for the gifts of manna and the quail. Thus tenderly does God treat us when, as the svm goes down, we halt in our life march, and turning Eastward, wistfully eye the route we have travelled over, peer through the gathering mists and behold divine love brooding over those far- off years of "Old School Days." 200 Old Field Schools of Georgia. CHAPTER XIL Old Field ScDools of Georgia. The following excerpts arc taken from a pamphlet compiled by Col. Richard Malcolm Johnston, and issued in 1896, by the United States Bureau of Edu- cation. I was unfamiliar with the existence of such a publication until my own facts had been gathered and typewritten. The data collected by Colonel Johnston, however, is so interesting and comprehensive, as well as in line with my own memoirs, that the following extracts will be found appropriate and readable. It is proper to say, however, that the period described by Colonel Johnston antedates the epoch comprehended in my own work, and, consequently, there are many material dififerences in the conditions and boyhood of the two epochs. However, the scholarly compilation of "Old Field Schools" furnishes many analogous and similar episodes to the present memoirs, and, with apologies to the distinguished Georgian, we will incor- porate into the close of our work many extracts from his pamphlet. ADMIXTURE OF CLASSES. Man cannot live alone. Even Timon of Athens 201 Old School Days. must occasionally go away from home in order to find an audience, to make known the contempt he claimed to feel for mankind. Whatever the degrees of an individual's understanding and culture, if he can- not find his equals to associate with, he will be drawn to his neighbors, however far his inferiors in these gifts. And so, from the beginning, the two ranks of this rural region coalesced, a fact which, more than any other, contributed to make the state what it be- came by the period of 1861. In a community so con- stituted, whatever was marked in individualities, must be brought forth in neighborhood intercourse that was untrammeled, except by unwritten laws, in- stinctive in all minds. No man ever felt his freedom more heartily than the rustic of middle Georgia a cen- tury ago. His cultivated neighbor, away from con- venient proximity to his own peers, sought his society, made him his friend, often his confidant and adviser. He learned his speech and in time loved to speak it. Each imparted and received. Associations of this sort are regulated by influences which it is not well to resist. Among these, negro slavery exerted its own peculiar influence. The humblest white man could have no apprehension of falling upon any lower scale, therefore, his ambitions, whatever they might be, were unfettered. It was during that early period of fifty years ago that were developed those numerous striking individualities which afterwards became themes for the character-sketching done in that region more than in any other of like extent in the whole 202 Old Field Schools of Georgia. South. A section so fecund in elements contributing to prosperous, happy existence, was populated with much rapidity. Seventy years ago the voting popu- lation of some of those counties was far above what it is now, counting only the whites. Quick, reckless felling of forests, rushing, appalling, unskillful culti- vation of rolling lands, led to their speedy exhaustion. Those of the inhabitants most eager for the accumula- tion of riches and most adventurous of spirit, dispos- ing of their homesteads for small prices to those con- tent to remain, followed not far behind the Indians, whom they drove farther and farther west. To one who remembers the conditions of the former society it is pleasant to recall the neighborliness, the oft warm affectionateness, which, except among mean people (and these are in every community), generally obtained. Men of both ranks, none of whom were' very rich, and none poor, intermingled with little reserve. Not seldom they sat at one another's boards, watched at one another's suffering bedsides, helped to bury one another's dead, when tears and strengthen- ing words were alike grateful and consolatory. EARLY EDUCATIONAL CONDITIONS. It is probable that not one of these settlers had re- ceived an education, beyond what could be gotten at the country and village school, in the states from which they had immigrated. They were less informed in text books and other reading than were their parents 203 Old School Days. before the War of Independence. Differences in book knowledge, therefore, among those Georgians were less marked than those in any other particular, and these depended on the habits of vigorous, thoughtful minds, of endeavoring to supplement trifling school requirements with the study of the few standard books within their reach. If school keeping in rural districts, during colonial and revolutionary periods, was conducted within nar- row circumstances, it must be more so in new remote settlements. If there had been entirely competent teachers, boys, even girls, could not be spared from domestic work long enough to give — and that in inter- vals — more than two or three years' attendance at school ; for gentlewomen and their daughters, like the rest, cut and sewed upon garments made of flax, wool and cotton, produced, spun and woven at home, while their husbands and sons felled the woods, tended the fields and harvested the crops. In the most genteel families, along with proper morals, children learned good manners and were encouraged to read in the few choice books brought with them from the old homes. Some could recite from ancient English and Scotch ballads, learned by their parents in peaceful and less exigent conditions. But education in school books was made, using a homely phrase, to "shift" for itself. The ways in which this was done, if described with much circumstantiality, would make a long and somewhat unique record in the annals of Georgia's foretime. 204 Old Field Schools of Georgia. SCHOOLMASTERS. / ' To any middle-aged Georgian, the old field school- master of his childhood, as he now recalls him, seems to have been somewhat of a myth, or at least a relic of a long passed, decedent race, never existing except in a few individuals, unlike any others of human mould, appearing, during periods, in rural communities, bringing in a red-spotted bandana handkerchief his household goods, and in his tall, whitish-furred, long- experienced hat, a sheet of foolscap on which was set down what he called his "school articles." A rather reticent man was he to begin with, generally serious, sometimes even sad-looking, as if he had been a seeker of things occult and was not content with the results of his quest. Within some months, seldom completing the year, with the same bandana and hat, noiseless as he had come, he went his way. Generally he was unmarried, or, what was not so very far differ- ent, followed by a wife as unique-looking as himself, if possible some nearer a blank, who had never had the heart to increase the family any further. After his departure came on another, who might be larger and might be smaller, who might be fairer and might be browner, who might be more pronounced in manner and speech, and might be less, but who had the dis- tinctive marks that were worn by no other people under the sun. Now the idea that a native-born citizen, competent to instruct children, would have been content to under- 205 Old School Days. take such a work, was not entertained. Somehow, keeping a school was regarded as at the bottom on the hst of vocations, fit only for those who are not qualified for any other ; who, if thus qualified, would never think of thus degrading themselves, and who, in view of the poverty of repute attending this last resort for the exercise of manly endeavor, deemed it well to go away from the place that knew them, and set up among strangers. As soon as he became well known, it seemed expedient for him, like Joe, of "Tom All- Alones" in Dickens' "Bleak House," to "move on." SCHOOLHOUSES. A place was selected on the edge of a wood, and a field turned out to fallow, sufficiently central, hard by a spring of purest fresh water, a log house was put up, say 25 X 30 feet, with one door and a couple of windows and shelves, with benches along the un- ceiled walls, and the session began. Most families breakfasted about sunrise, and a brisk walk of three- quarters of an hour brought even the remotest dwellers to the early opening. The one who happened to reach the schoolhouse first on wintry mornings kindled a fire. This was before the date of Lucifer matches. In winter half burned logs were so disposed beneath ashes in the huge fireplaces as to preserve fire through the night, which was quickly rekindled by the aid of pine knots always on hand. To provide against fail- ure, the master and some of the larger boys carried 206 Old Field Schools of Georgia. a small piece of rotten wood — punk — obtained from a decayed oak, which, being held under a flint stone and struck with a blade of a steel knife, produced sparks, igniting the wood. There was seldom any suffering from cold. At noon a recess of two hours was allowed for dinner and sports. On days when the sun shone, the hour was made known by its reaching a mark on the floor near the door, or one of the window sills. In cloudy weather, it was guessed at. The idea of a schoolmaster owning a watch did not enter anybody's mind. When the day was done, dismissal was out and out. There was no keepings-in at noon or even- ing tide. Each day had its history and no more ; whatever was done, was done for all henceforth — reci- tations, good or bad — punishments, big or little — be- came things of the past, though their likes were sure to be enacted on every day thereafter. The master went silently into the house where he boarded, and the pupils, boys and girls, whipped and unwhipped, turn- ing their backs upon everything, journeyed leisurely along, boys anon rallying one another on the day's misadventures, personal and vicarious, and the girls behind laughing, occasionally lingering to gather and weave into nosegays, wild flowers, that, in all seasons, except the depth of winter, bordered their way along the roads and lanes. IN THE SCHOOLROOM. The fashion of studying aloud in schools, now so 207 Old School Days. curious to recall, did not produce the confusion which those not accustomed to it would suppose. Besides the natural desire to avoid punishment, rivalries were very often active, particularly among girls, and dur- ing the time devoted wholly to study, there were few who did not make reasonable effort to prepare for reci- tation. Spellers, readers, geographies, grammarians, getters-by-heart, all except cipherers, each in his or her own tongue and tone, raised to height sufficient to be clearly distinguished from others by individual ears, filled the room and several square rods of circumam- bient space outside. In this while, the master, deaf to the various multitudinous sounds, sat in his chair, sometimes watching for a silent tongue, at others, with lack-lustre eyes gazing through the door into the world beyond, perhaps musing when and where, if ever in his life, this toiling, fighting, migratory, isolated and about friendless career would find respite. Pupils stood while reciting. In spelling and read- ing, except with beginners, the cases were a few, sel- dom more than two or three in a study, arranged ac- cording to the age and degree of advancement, boys and girls mingling together. Dread of the ridicule attached to the foot of the class prompted every one to strive to avoid it. Many a blush painted the cheek and many a tear dimmed the eye of a girl while de- scending to this position of dishonor. The effect was benign. Good spelling, particularly among the girls, was the rule in nearly every school. Seldom did any among half a dozen in the lead make changes of 208 Old Field Schools of Georgia. place. These were mainly below, increasing in fre- quency towards the end. The head was lost gen- erally by accident, or momentary negligence of keep- ing on the alert, and it required like default to make another change in that quarter. In reading, excellence was on a scale very far lower. It was taught after a fashion solemn and formal, sometimes ludicrously so. With the master, the senti- ment seemed that after one rose from spelling and reading, one must be taught to feel that what was printed in books had acquired beyond spoken words, dignity to which readers must pay worshipful respect, pronouncing in measured, solemn flow. Many an old man, in after years, would rehearse in lengthened, sepulchral monotone his school rendering of those deeply affecting fables in Webster's Elementary Spell- ing Book : "The Partial Judge," "The Boy that Stole Apples," "Old Dog Tray," "The Country Maid and her Milk Pail," with illustrations, and contend these latter to be the last, highest, and forever hereafter unsur- passable pinnacle of pictorial art. When the boys and girls became old enough to take serious interest in the meaning of what they read they went to the few romances to be found here and there in the neighborhood, such as "The Children of the Abbey," "Mysteries of Udolpho," "Thaddeus of Warsaw," and "Scottish Chiefs." It was always pleasant to feel and afterwards to remember the im- pressions made upon young, simple minds by these books, then more than half believed to contain veri- 209 Old School Days. table chronicles of bravest men and loveliest women. They served purposes most benign. They largely con- tributed to the production of pure and generous as- pirations, to the development of good manhood and good womanhood, each sex endeavoring and hoping, if not to equal, at least to approximate exalted ideals, as near as was possible in existing limitations. In after years, elderly ladies, who had long ceased to read novels of any sort, when hearing young people praising later works of the kind, would never be made to believe that they could be compared favorably with those which, in their own young day, drew so many tears from their eyes, and prompted so fondly to duty. These benign influences did not cease with experience of labor and cares and vicissitudes ; they assisted throughout life, in imparting strength, steadfast in continuance at their work and to fortitude in the enduring of misfortune. MEMORIZING. One practice in these schools was so useful that, to the writer, it seems a misfortune that it did not ob- tain in academies, afterwards established, and that it was ever dropped from those of any grade. This was "getting-by-heart" and reciting a number of printed lines every day with, more often without, refer- ence to their meaning. Omission of this exercise is the more strange, since persons familiar with the Greeks and Romans know, that among them, it was 210 Old Field Schools of Georgia. regarded of first importance in the education of boys. The poet, Horace, in his "Ad Augustum," tells how he was beaten, when a little child, by his master, Orbilious Pupilus, for unsatisfactory rehearsal of a crude translation of the Odyssey by Livius Androni- cus. It appears afterwards that he was required to do the same with the Iliad. In the Old Field Schools, not a pupil who could read at all (except a cipherer advanced high enough to be re- garded above it) was excluded from the daily exercise. Perhaps non-understanding of the words had its own special advantage in quickening verbal memory and making it retentive. This was evinced in the Friday evening declamations, which it was understood that parents and other friends might attend when they chose. It was noteworthy how many boys learned to declaim well. Fortunate it was, perhaps, that the teacher was never a speaker himself, did not know the meaning of the word elocution and had never heard of the methods, since become common, of imparting special instruction in it. Boys had this advantage, that there were no models below which imitators are always apt to fall, by losing their own individuality, and finding it impossible to acquire another's. Stimu- lus to success was imparted by desire of praise and apprehension of ridicule from parents, friends, school- mates and most particularly, sweethearts. Youthful orators declaimed in couples or singly, in adjoining woods, selections from masterpieces found in speech books, notably one entitled the "Columbian Orator," 211 Old School Days. Practice upon practice enabled some lads, of unusually good understanding, sons of the better class, to ren- der these pieces with a grace and spirit intensely inter- esting, and were not infrequently the beginning of a career that made the young orators famous in after years. The idea of prompting a speaker never oc- curred to teacher or pupil. The habit of daily memo- rizing made such help needless. The dull tongue of a dull mind might draw words of passionate, fiery speech in such funeral style as to suggest the words of Theseus, at the grief of poor Pyramus, in "Midsum- mer Night's Dream." "This passion and the death of a dear friend would go near to make a man look sad." As it was, it became sometime needful in the audience to suppress loud laughter, with coughing and stuffing of mouths with handkerchiefs ; but the words, whether accurately pronounced or not,» were there, with every syllable which, when once learned, no more than his A B C's could be forgotten. The more one reflects upon what is known as the humorous in char- acter sketching, the more he is apt to refer it, in a large measure, to the innocent, often pathetic, careen- ings of narrow understandings to exhibit themselves beyond their limitations. In this region, not very long back, numbers of persons, men and women, when far advanced in age, could recite many of the pieces mem- orized in childhood. It was not very uncommon with college students, half a century ago, who, after writing a piece requiring half an hour for delivery, rendered it, with entire accuracy, after one reading, 212 Old Field Schools of Georgia. DISCIPLINE. The young of that generation had been assiduously trained in one special virtue, deviating from whose observance had never a hope of toleration. That was absolute, unquestioning obedience to authority. Youth — youth advanced to nineteen or twenty — childhood, even infancy, learned from the beginning that dis- obedience had, and that it could have but one end — punishment, prompt and according to circumstances more or less condign. Delinquents knew that as sure as the morrow's sunrise would follow the sunset of to-day, punishment would succeed upon wanton dis- obedience. This punishment was corporal. It was not very often preceded nor accompanied by remon- stration. It did its work without hesitation ,and usually without anger; and the culprit, after inflic- tion, easily resumed the position he held before in parental affection. Parents, with few exceptions, seemed to regard corporal punishment as the only really effectual discipline for children, particularly for boys, as they did not hesitate to employ it whenever necessary, even up to incipient manhood. The idea, as all students in the history of mankind know, was not new. When and where it began in schools has not come down. We know that it was in at least one of the schools of Falerii, in the time of Camillus, centuries before Christ, when the boys, sons of the principal citizens, were led by their master to the be- 213 Old School Days. sieging general, who, in horror of the treachery, had him stripped, bound, and driven back by his pupils with rods such as he was accustomed to belabor their backs. The rod produces an effect which terminates in itself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets its task and there is an end of it. And so the school- master, seldom cruel by nature, to slenderly boys, and by too many odds and ends made up in his being to take actual delight in sight of pain, finding himself absolute monarch over a collection of unloving and unloyal subjects, during eight and ten hours a day, assured in his mind that the average boy would not perform his task without compulsion, kept himself supplied with seasoned hickory switches, and plied them with more or less rigor, and according to cir- cumstances. These circumstances were the varying conditions of his own temper, and what was ex- pected of him by parents and others in the world out- side. Not one of these was counted upon whipping of some sort with sufficient frequency and proper severity. The teacher's admonition about sparing the rod was accepted unanimously. Even a good boy, unless his body and legs were too little or too frail to endure it, must be whipped occasionally by way of prevention. Whipping was so good and precious a thing in itself that it would seem a hardship for even a good boy to be allowed to grow up without per- sonal experience of its benign efficiency. As for dis- grace in such punishments, in the case of boys, nobody dreamed that any sort attached to it, although girls 214 Old Field Schools of Georgia. felt it keenly. So resentment, in after years, seldom had place in men's recollection of schoolboy scenes. One case only used to be told. One day in the town of Milledgeville, Ga., a young man, upwards of thirty, while sitting on a sidewalk before a tavern, observed a strange looking, rather elderly gentleman passing by. Attracted by his looks and gait, after some mo- ments, he arose and followed him. Overtaking him, he asked him if his name was Nahum G , and if he ever kept a school in the county of Hancock. An- swer being in the affirmative: "In that case," said the youth, "I owe you a debt that has been standing ever since. My name is Sey- mour B . Fifteen years ago you whipped me for nothing, and I then took an oath that if I should live to be big enough, and meet you, I'd pay you back." Then he knocked him down. The gentleman, ris- ing, said : "Well, young man, you bear malice right along; are you satisfied?" "Entirely. You'll discharge me of the interest, I've no doubt. We are even. Good day." This case was an exceptional one, for this school discipline, however absurd and needlessly rigorous, was not often marked by cruelty or very much asperity of temper. Habit certainly obtunded the sympathy with which men might have been born, and so habit served to subdue much of the wrath liable to be in- dulged against daily derelictions, real and imaginary. 215 Old School Days. GAMES. Games in these schools were as hearty as simple. Girls, who always played apart, were fond of "jump- ing the rope," two holding the ends at a distance of about half its length, twirling it on high and beneath rapidly, while, as it struck the ground, one or more standing in the middle of the space between, leaped or hopped over. Victory was adjudged to her who did so oftenest without impeding the revolution. Colonel Johnston's memoirs then describe a number of games, peculiar to girls, such as "checks," "hopscotch," "blindfold," "chicamy-chicamy-craney-crow," "grind the bottle," or "puss in the corner," "prisoner's base," "hide-and-seek," "hide the switch," "old sister Phoebe," "Miley Bright," etc., of which we give the last one, known as "Williamson Trimbletoe." In this game the children each place the middle finger of one hand in a circle, upon some object, a block, if out of doors, on someone's knee if within, and one with her forefinger, beginning with her own middle finger, made the circle of touching all alter- nately in sequence, word by word, of the following rhyme : "Willianison Trimbletoe, He's a good Ushcrynan ; Catches his hens, And puts them in pens; 216 Old Field Schools of Georgia. Some lay eggs and some lay none, Wire, brier, limher-lock, Sits and sings 'til 12 o'clock; The clock run dozun. The mouse run 'roimd, 0-u-t spells out — And begone." At that instant all except the one upon whose finger the last word fell, flew away — while she, personating "Williamson Trimbletoe," pursued the chickens, and, catching one by one, conveyed her to the pen. There was neither advantage or disadvantage to the one counting, as her own finger was in equal chance with the others in escaping the final word. boys' games. Ball being the favorite sport of boys of- the old time, quite a number of these are given, from which the following are selected : Town Ball. — Baseball has certainly carried batting, particularly catching, to a degree beyond any attained in old-time town ball ; but for heartiness in enjoy- ment of sport, and sport only, for healthfulness of activities, eager but never overstrained, for harmless- ness of accidents, impossible to become dangerous or seriously painful, for innocence in triumphs, in vic- tories, and moderation of discomfitures in defeats, the younger is far behind the one it supplanted. Parties 217 Old School Days. were never continuous in constituent elements. Two lads of equal or approximate fame, after casting at "cross and pile" (throwing three times on high a paddle with a cross on one side and guessing at the fall) for first choice, selection of followers was made alternately from oldest to the very youngest, so that those who were rivals to-day might be comrades to- morrow. Each had its ins directly following the other. Losses were incurred by catching from behind the ball missed by the striker, or in its flight upon the field from stroke of the paddle, or hitting the runner between the bases. An hour or so was generally sufficient for each party to enjoy its ins. This most exciting period in this game was when the ins were re- duced to one. In that emergency, if he could make as many as three rounds, he had liberty to call in one of his party. At such a time he called upon one to run in his place, while he stood and rested between the strokes. If the ball was caught in the air, or after the first rebound, or if the runner was hit with it on the circuit, or it was thrown and reached home before the circuit was completed, the striker went out. These contingencies had to be faced three times consecutively. It not infrequently occurred that a vigorous boy who used a round, heavy bat instead of the paddle, cast the ball with such momentum and in such unexpected direction as to achieve success. Bull Pen. — In this, a space about twenty yards square was chosen, into which one of the parties en- 218 Old Field Schools of Georgia. tered, while four of the others occupied the corners. The ball was thrown from one to another along the sides, and after the round was made and then passed from the first diagonally across to the third, and it was said to be "hot." These four, without any fixed order of sequence, but according to probable chances of suc- cess, cast the ball at those in the pen. If it missed it counted for naught ; if it hit, he and his comrades took to flight when an insider threw the ball at one of them ; if he hit, the latter was out and the one stricken restored. The art of throwing and dodging, rendered keen by much practice, made this game often intensely interesting, both to parties and be- holders, particularly so when the actors were reduced to two, one running from base to base, seeking oppor- tunities, and the other keeping it at as great a dis- tance as possible, the two procrastinating the result sometimes for half an hour. Socket. — This game was resorted to only occa- sionally, and when time was too short for the others. The ball was cast aloft, and on return, whoever got it threw it at his next neighbor, and this was repeated without cessation of any sort until all were weary. It was a sort of what was called a free fight, without rule or reckoning. The balls used in these games were of domestic make, with woolen threads, and tightly covered with buckskin. Lucky and envied was the boy who, from a worn rubber shoe, a thing seldom used, got cuttings to substitute for thread. This writer easily recalls 219 Old School Days. the first introduction oi those of solid rubber, gotten at the stores, but this was at the village academy to be referred to hereafter. (Other games are here described in detail, such as "cat," "jumping," "ring marbles," "knucks," "leap- frog," "tag," "clapping hands," "mumble-peg," "shinney" and "lap-jacket," nearly all of which are possessed of great tenacity of life, as they are still in vogue among boys of to-day.) DRESS. Dress of school children was almost wholly of home produce and make. Even daughters of people of the better sort, if occasionally they wore gowns of calico or gingham, usually went to school in those of domestic fabric so manufactured and made as to be hardy, if at all, less sightly. The arts of spinning, weaving and dyeing were carried to a high degree of culture. People of humble means did this sort them- selves, but those above them, while all the spinning, reeling and warping were done at home, had most of their weaving and dyeing done by professionals, some of whose work, yet preserved in old family chests, is surprisingly handsome. These professionals, styled weavers, were usually women, who, failing to marry while in their teens, devoted themselves to these arts and indulged, in high pride, in the number and urgency of demands made upon them throughout a large circle of acquaintances, to repair to their homes 220 Old Field Schools of Georgia. for jobs that impatiently awaited them. For these ladies lived not at home, except during brief intervals, while working for themselves and other members of their own families ; but in all seasons, spring, summer, fall and winter, sojourned at the houses of one and another of their neighbors. At the end of their prom- ised days they went on to other engagements. At these houses they were as welcome and as well treated as the governor's wife would have been. Prelimi- naries to enter into the out-houses, where the loom was kept, were precise and elaborate — selection of purest, best thread from hanks, mixings of indigo, walnut, madder and other dye stuffs, superintending dyeing pots, examinations of looms, sleighs, shuttles, spindles and reed spools, and readjusting of every blessed thing to absolute satisfaction. When the long warp was carefully wrapped around the beam, the sleighs and treadles properly adjusted, the conscious weaver mounted upon the stool as proudly as Queen Elizabeth bestrode her war steed on Tewksbury Plain. Many of the stripes woven by these experts were notably handsome and held their brightness through long periods of laundering. In gowns made by these, girls attended school ; underwear, of material raised at home, were, when well laundered, as nice as those woven in Northern looms. Boys' wear was of stouter materials, those for winter entirely of wool. The sum- mer wear received a bright yellow color from a dye made from copperas; the winter as fine a brown from the bark of a walnut, or woven from mixed threads of 221 Old School Days. white and dark wool. Little girls wore short frocks, with pantalets. Boys wore jackets, and trousers reach- ing to the feet. The present fashion of short trousers and stockings was not then known. Shoes, in almost all instances, except those for Sunday use, were made by the neighboring cobbler, of leather tanned at the village tanyard, from hides of beasts slain on the sev- eral plantations ; but, during six months, from April to November, all boys, without exception, went bare- footed. A boy was eager to doff his shoes in the spring and reluctant to resume them in the fall. This feeling prevailed, notwithstanding the "stumped toes," toe itchings and stone bruises, to which they were constantly liable and from which they frequently suf- fered. One element in their hostility to their use when not needed for protection in inclement weather, was that their shoes were made, each pair, on the same last. This was done for the sake of economy, as daily exchanging from left to right and from right to left secured longer duration and postponed the pleas- ure derived from the possession of a new pair. Sel- dom was a sock worn that was not knit at home from cotton or wool. The same was the case with most of the stockings. The girls wore, for head covering, what was afterwards known as sunbonnets, while the boys' hats, when there was no hatter in the neighborhood, were of woolen stuff and purchased at the store. EXHIBITIONS. Whenever a master remained until the end of the 222 Old Field Schools of Georgia. ".pring term, it closed with an examination of the pupils on the last day, and what was called an "ex- hibition" at night. A rude platform was built in front of the door, and an arbor, covered with branches of trees, extended far out. Many hundreds attended the examinations, and many more the exhibition. To the latter, people came from all distances, up to ten and fifteen miles, often to the number of two or three thousand, and it was curious to see the interest taken in the exercises by persons by whom these were the only histrionic performances ever wit- nessed. A farce — say "Box and Cox," and one or two others of like character — was brought out, in a style that certainly was unique in the history of the stage. Women's parts, as in the old English drama, were taken by boys. The idea seemed to be that dresses, talk and movements should be as unnatural, as eccentric and as extravagant as possible. No occa- sion in that rural region brought more hearty enjoy- ment to the vast crowds assembled to honor it. HOLIDAYS. Holidays, not infrequent in the beginnmg, became less so with the lapse of time. In the early settlements of the country the religious sentiment, as is always the case in periods after a long war, except among women, was not high. Religious meeting-houses were few, and such as were had not many professing male members. Leading families, for the most part, partic- 223 Old School Days. ularly those from Virginia, had been members of the Episcopal Church, but these, for lack of bishop and clergymen, gradually fell away. Besides, this organi- zation being of British origin, suffered prejudice for that reason. Dancing and playing cards were not re- garded as immoral, and at evening parties of pleasure the former was freely practiced. These were frequent, because the settlers, despite their intense energy, were fully sensible of the value and importance of leisure and reunions. Presbyterians were almost none ; but Baptists and Methodist clergymen in time appeared, many of whom, though not liberally educated, were of much ability and labored with zeal and success in the cause of Christian revival. For a considerable time, respite, both for school children and negroes, was had on occasion of the most noted church festivals. But now, out of the joint hostility, feasts, as Easter, Whitsuntide, Ascension, Epiphany, began to be omitted, and, after some years, were dropped from the mind as they had ceased to be mentioned by the tongue, and, except by a few, their recurrence became unnoticed. Yet boys were unanimous against curtailment of what long prescription seemed to them ought to have rendered inviolate. Indulgence, gradually fallen into disuse outside, a master granted or not according to his notions or the will of parents in that behalf. He was suspected of having no special aversion to it, but it was important to the security of his position to ap- pear otherwise, profess reluctance, but at the same 224 Old Field Schools of Georgia. time intimate that he would be guided by circum- stances. A few, who, Hke Peggoty's husband, were "very near," grudged a day off from services for which they were paid a whole dollar a month, but the majority were indifferent, and so the schoolmaster gave it sometimes, and sometimes did not. Another ground for hesitation, with a leaning to the side of mercy, was revolving in his mind the degree of eager- ness on the part of his boy scholars in any special case, and that their strength and resolution to have it gratified, for there was one last resort for the brave and the desperate of which he well knew that, however resolute in spirit and able of body, it behooved to beware — the "turn outs." Some account of this ought not to be omitted from these sketches. TURN-OUTS. It would not be easy to find the original of what, in our day, was admitted to be fully excusable in school- boys, in pressing emergencies, to fall back upon an im- alienable reserved right of revolution, which, though brief, was decisive. People, old people, even "near people," did not gainsay exercise of this right, pro- vided it was availed of according to established usages and within set limitations. If the sentiment for a holiday was unanimous, or sufficiently approximate to unanimity, to discourage like toryism on the part of the minority, by appointment meeting at the school- house earlier than usual in the morning, barred the 225 Old School Days. building' ag^ainst the master's entrance. While no violence to his person was allowed, yet neither was he expected to be too damaging in his siege of property belonging to other people, who might not feel like putting in expensive repairs. Forcing a door lock or a window hook would be tolerated, but not breaking off things generally. Nor was unreasonably long time allowed the besieger to be wasted in endeavor. If he could overcome obstruction and effect entrance, the insurrection dissolved instantly and all went to the day's work with no other feeling than disappoint- ment at failure to compass an end entirely legitimate. In case he could not, holiday was granted with cheer- ful acquiescence. The most acceptable, indeed, the most common way of celebrating the occasion was with a treat to the master. A messenger was dispatched to the nearest place where could be gotten a jug of honest whiskey, which the master and the boys discussed. Afterwards they all went their several ways satisfied, the chief sometimes to exuberance with the last result of the day's doings. THE PASSING. The period, during which these primitive school- masters had sway, has been referred to always with peculiar interest, not only with those to whom it has come down by tradition, but especially among those who had experience of their doings of many kinds. There was something pathetic in the silence with which Old Field Schools of Georgia. they disappeared. Precisely whence they came, in the beginning, was not generally known, because seldom inquired about. The same with their going, in which was some shade of melancholy, as men thought of the slender chances before such wanderers of betterment in their conditions. Instances were almost none when their punishments, slight or rigorous, were remem- bered with resentment, and nobody, parent or pupil, but wished to them as much prosperity as might come within their reach, hardly hoping that it could be otherwise than extremely moderate. They seemed to illustrate Darwin's maxim of the survival of the fittest, and, like the weakest in lower animal existences, gradually subsided into extinction or undiscoverable and never-investigated retirement. This period of the pedagogy of that region passed not without leaving some salutary results. Any system, however crude, is better than no system. On the confines of exist- ences, so far different from each other, it was as in- dispensable as elsewhere to get some instruction, at least in elementary education. This was all that was at first sought. Neglect of it had been too long already amid the hardships of one long war and threatenings of another. To read, write, become familiar with ele- mentary rules in numbers, and get some acquaintance with forms of polite speech, these must be gotten after a fashion of some sort from the only persons who came forward to undertake the task of imparting. Weaklings as these generally were, need of subsistence which they were incompetent to obtain out of otlier 227 Old School Days. vocations, continuance of endeavors to enhance their fitness for this, their only calHng, with pressure from outside, begot in time a famiHarity with its duties which, if not satisfactory, was tolerable. The very crudeness habitually breaking out in those old school- houses, contrasted with those in which good sense, manners, and tastes were hereditary, served as a foil to make the latter more clearly recognized and more easily practiced. Superadded to this, the habit of en- tire obedience to authority however trifling dignrty, but taught to be of equal force with that by which it was delegated, tended strongly to the development of generous manhood, of neighborly kindness, of life- long friendship, of good citizenship. In a community situated far from cultured circles, activities sometimes too ardent, even degrees of lawlessness must exist. Among the systems pretending to repress them among the young, old field schools, despite their eccentrici- ties, made their one contribution, and it was respect- able. Their glaring imperfections intensified the sense of need of something better, and expedited their introduction. boys' field sports. Out of school, children whose parents were of what- ever degree of property holding, were indulged in with holidays of reasonable frequency. Almost any Saturday a boy with his fishing rod or with his gun and three or four hounds would meet his likes, simi- 228 Old Field Schools of Georgia. larly attended, and spend the day along the margin of a creek or within fields and woods. Lesser game, for a long time, continued plentiful, such as squirrels, rabbits, opossum, raccoons, quail, field larks and par- ticularly doves by the thousands. Any family, how- ever humble, would have been ashamed to be regarded so poor as not to afford to keep a gun and several hounds. Boys who were too young to handle guns, or follow hounds afar, used to resort to devices for taking birds. TRAPS. Perhaps never a Georgia boy, when come to seven or eight years, failed to have his one or more traps for catching birds. If he was lame or an invalid, a trap must be built for him and set somewhere in the meadow or near the woodside. It was constructed of laths of about three feet in length, for the four at the bottom, two inches wide, and a quarter of an inch thick, de- creasing in length for about ten inches. It was set by three sticks called triggers, one long and two short, forming, when joined, the figure four, placed hori- zontally with the stem at the bottom. Around this stem and beneath was strewn the bait, grains of corn, oats, meal, and wheat. A very light touch sprang the trigger and the trap came down. The captive was taken out at the top, by removal of the short laths in sufficient numbers to allow the insertion of the h-ind and arm. Results from such huntings were very 229 Old School Days. far from compensation for the work done in their behalf, but they were ever hopeful and expected to do better the next time. They were far more satisfactory, in the case of one bird in particular, the quail, called the "partridge." Going in flocks, ingenuity was called upon to frame a trap so as to get all, which would certainly follow the getting of the first. The trap for this purpose was called a "coup." It was similarly constructed, possibly somewhat heavier. Instead of triggers, its delusion was compassed by a tunnel, wide and horizontal at the opening, about a foot from the coup, and after reaching it, ascending and narrowing until it opened rather abruptly within, by an aperture of size to easily admit one bird and no more. Grain was scattered in confusion about the coup, more so in the opening, and extending through the tunnel. The leader of the flock passed along the wide, gentle slope, feeding as he went, the rest eagerly following. Some grains were scattered upon the ground within in order to hinder apprehension from arising until all were inside. In this condition it never occurred to them to attempt egress from the same route by which they had entered. The tunnel's opening inside being abrupt and darkened, the captive vainly strove to pass through the spaces in the side and roof of the coup. HUNTING WITH HOUNDS AND GUN. The hunting of squirrels and rabbits, doubtless, was about the same in all other regions where the animals 230 Old Field Schools of Georgia. abound. It was pursued by half-grown lads, regarded not yet old enough to overcome the awkward diffi- culties in chasing, such as only could be taken in the night ; or, as in the case of a fox, at early dawn and on horseback. Many a vain petition to venture, at least upon the former, was presented to mothers, and many a boy was made happy by the coming of the time when it was deemed not too imprudent to grant it. RACCOON HUNTING. Seldom was a young boy allowed to go upon a hunt of the raccoon. It is a beast of considerable fleetness, extremely wily, and combative to the last degree. Probably of all animals, if not the most cunning in devices to evade its pursuers, it is the most adroit and pertinacious in flight. Not one hound in a hundred could cope with a "coon," in single combat on land, and it required three or four to do so in water. A coon hunt of several dogs (and it required a pack) gave chase, often a mile or more, before the quarry was compelled to a tree, and this, back and forth, winding right and left through the densest thickets that the fugitive knows best, on the margin of the creek. The tearing and soiling of clothes, inevita- ble to close following of hounds, made parents put a ban upon sons until they were well on toward man- hood. Even grown persons, on account of the ex- pense, seldom hunted them, except for the purpose of lessening their ravages upon the young corn ears, in 231 Old School Days. adjoining fields, and never with intent to eat them. Occasionally a negro, for lack of opossum, would cook and eat them. HUNTING THE OPOSSUM. A sport which boys greatly delighted in was accom- panying the negroes while hunting the opossum. Its relish was the dearer because of the infrequency with which parents, especially mothers, consented to it. Of all delights to the palate of the Southern negro, and indeed of many a Southern white man, the flesh of the opossum, when baked to the proper degree of brown, is the dearest. Southerners regard it of all meats the least indigestible, and but for its super- abundant fat it would appear more frequently on the tables of whites. In some houses this superfluity was disposed of by placing a layer or more of oak or hickory sticks to the height of three or four inches at the bottom of the oven, and upon the lattice work thus made lay the opossum. By such mode much of the oil was deposited on the bottom. The negro, when cooking for himself, never resorts to these measures, but takes his favorite as he is, indeed, preferring him with all of his imperfections upon his head. At every home, whatever might be lacking for mak- ing up the full of home comforts, it was never an opossum dog; seldom was it without two or three. They belonged to the negroes, and were usually well trained. The hunter providing himself with an ax, 232 Old Field Schools of Georgia. a torch of Hghtwood sticks of suitable length (about two feet) accompanied by at least one other, bearing another ax and an armful of other sticks, sallied forth to the woods. Both he and his dog well knew the most frequented haunts of the quarry, along skirts of wood and meadow where grew the persimmon, the muscadine and the wild grape. After the trail was found the pursuit was usually brief, as this beast is not swift of foot, and travels over an inconsiderable space. The dogs bark little or none while pursuing, and so the opossum, when about to be overtaken by surprise, makes with what speed is possible to a tree. In his emergency he has to sometimes take to a small sapling, up which he can mount no higher than six or eight feet without bending the top. If he is not too hotly pressed he will take to a larger one, although he is not as particular in that matter as the raccoon, who, being more swift of foot and more capable in general of taking care of himself, invariably seeks the largest he can find in his flight. The "treeing" was announced by a bark peculiar to that office, and entirely different from others. There was no sound of eagerness, as in those in pur- suit. It was one brief utterance of mere announce- ment, as if the dog had finished the task assigned to him and would now lie down and rest until his owners came up. If his bark was hearkened to he gave no more. If not, he repeated it at intervals until it was. Then he sat or lay while the tree was being felled. Just before this crisis, unless the tree was small, one 233 Old School Days. of the axmen, quitting his work, rep^^ired a short distance on the side opposite to that in which the tree was to fall, and held him by the collar during the descent. This was done to secure him from being crushed by rushing too speedily among the branches. Instant upon the fall he was loosed, and, rushing for- ward, seized his game nearly always before it could get to another tree. At that instant all excitement ended. A moment before the seizure, if he had it to spare, the opossum, offering no resistance, laid itself down and to all appearances died. This was regarded as an instinctive artifice to attempt escape from death by seeming to be dead already. It will fight neither man nor dog, and at last seems to implore for pity and sparing of life to one so entirely submissive. This gave rise to the phrase "playing 'possum," ap- plied to persons suspected of making insincere ado about their own ailments or other suffering, or pre- tending to be asleep. The way in which the captive was secured, if not novel, was curious, and singularly hard. A hickory stick of, say two inches thickness, and five or six feet in length, was split at a small distance from one end and before the wedge was withdrawn the long, hair- less, thick-skinned tail was drawn about half its length through the slit, after which the wedge was with- drawn. The captor slung his stick across his shoul- ders, trimmed his torch, and, if not ready to return home, hied his dog to another search. Occasionally a negro would return home not too late for rest enough 234 Old Field Schools of Georgia. for the morrow's work, with three or four hanging to his pole. The kilHng was usually postponed to a Sunday During the interval it was kept in a box set with its open side upon the ground and made firm by heavy stones laid upon the top, ventilated by auger holes. It was fed upon persimmons mainly, but with additions of bread, collards, potatoes and other vegetables gotten from the negro's small garden that lay behind his cabin. It was really surprising what degrees of fat- ness it would take on in a very short time. The killing was usually postponed to a Sunday. In all probability never since Georgia was first occupied by white people with slaves did an opossum, when killed by a negro, meet death in any other. For this time-honored custom he felt respect that would have been sorely hurt even by suggestion of sub- stitution of another. And so on a fair Sunday morning, taking him ten- derly, yet with sufficient firmness of grasp by the tail, he drew him from his box into the light of day, let him "go dead" for awhile, after his harmlessly decep- tive way, and, it may be, addressed to him some words of praise for the manner in which he had made him- self ready for the winding up of this, his last job. Then laying down his ax with the helve across the victim's neck, and placing his foot upon it near the space of contact, while he kept it pressed, with his two hands he pulled his tail until his neck was broken. Already a pot of water hard by had been made hot for 235 Old School Days. scalding the hair from his "carcass," by this time be- come, as some expressed it, "as round as a butter ball." After he was baked and set upon a tray, flanked satisfactorily with attendant good things, it was inter- esting to see the rapidity with which, using a favorite simile among the negroes, it would "go down the red lane." PLANTATION FOURTH OF JULY. Among the yearly holidays anticipated most eagerly by children was the plantation Fourth of July. Independence Day, as many used to style it, always had its several commemorations. The principal one was held on the day itself in the villages, or, in districts too remote from those, in the meeting-house grove or near a cross roads store. In the latter case, an orator and a reader came from town, all surviving Revolution- ary soldiers were carried and sat in chairs in front of the audience, and with women divided the eloquent praises of the peroration. Afterwards came the bar- becue, for whose enjoyment juicy exhalations from pits wherein the "carcasses" were nearing a proper fin- ish for some time before made all mouths ready. The other came on later, usually on the third or fourth Sunday of the month. This was the negroes' "Fourth of July." By this time the small grain had been harvested, cotton and corn received their third and last plowing, and the crop was pronounced to be "laid by" during the four weeks before the ripening. 236 Old Field Schools of Georgia. On these occasions things were put on early and kept on late. Pigs and lambs, according to the num- ber in the family, were barbecued, supplemented by fowls and vegetables, cakes, conserves and other good tilings. Yet the scene most interesting to children was the cider beating. Apples brought in carts from the orchard were emptied into a long trough made of a poplar log, where they were beaten by men with pestles. A rude press was built and fastened to one of the trees in the grove, and on a layer of oat straw the pulp gathered in buckets was emptied, the long beam, attached to the screw that pressed, being drawn around by a horse or mule. The fun to children was being allowed with long oat straws to suck the new cider from the trough. The dinner table was set in the grove. After the whites were served the negroes sat down on their chairs and behches, when all, men, women and children, did the best they knew how with the viands set before them. When all could do no more on that line, the old foreman, called upon for a speech and unanimously denied being excused, said his say, and was followed by others among the men, who talked their talks, and by the half-grown boys and girls, who sang their songs. After, the aged and other adults sat around under the trees and looked on as the young, white and black, disported in the grove. Except Christmas and Christmas week, this was the whitest of all days in the year. It mattered not what had been the favorableness of the seasons and the general prospect of the crops, on this day, 237 Old School Days. conditions, whether promising or otherwise, were put out of mind. Everybody was conscious that he had done his part faithfully, and knew that the same was felt by everybody else, so all gave themselves to en- joyment, willing to leave the future to the disposal of the Creator. With apparent reluctance the sim went down at last too soon. Yet often the moon at or not far from its full, or the heavens lit by «'tarlight, allowed the children to continue their sports till near the hour of nine, at which all must retire to their beds. THE END. 238 INDEX. Air Castles, 18, 75. Aladdin's Cave, 18. All-Fool's Day, 106. All-Hallows Eve, 111. Alphabet, 24. Amateur Acting, 80-81. Ancestral Pride, 123. "Angel of the House," 35. "Annie Laurie," etc., 40. Anniversaries, 102. Anti-Everythingarians, 35, 37, 117. Arts and Crafts of Boys, 86. Autograph Albums, 93. Awkwardness, 127. Babyhood, 23. Ballads of Childhood, 40. Ball and Kite, 39. Bashfulness, 129. Beadle's Dime Novels, 81. Berrying, 29, 86. Birthdays, 34. "Black-Beard," 82. Black Mammy, 94, 153. "Blind Man's Buff," 216. Bogies and Scarecrows, 57. Bonnyeastle's Views, 31. Boobies, 121. Books for Boys, 137. Boyish Patriotism, 41. Boys' Games — 50 Years Ago, 201. Brownies, 76. Bugbears, 61. Bull Pen— An Old Sport, 216. Bunyan's Pilgrim Progress, 77, 141. Busy Idleness, 85. Buttermilk, 96. Camp Meetings, 97. Candy Pullings, 113. Caning (See Flagellation). Catapults, 89. "Cat," Game of, 217. Chaucer's Fairy Tales, 55. "Chicaney - Chicaney - Craney Crow," 217. "Children of the Abbey," 137. "Chip from the Old Block," 122. Chivalry— Old and New, 162. Christmas, 112. Cider, 100. Cigarettes, 118. Circus, 68, 78. "Cissy Boys," 45, 120. Civil War Times, 118. Classes, Admixture of, 201. College Life, 134. Colonial Dames, 124. Commencements, 109. Compensations of Nature, 167. Compositions — School, 222. Corn Bread, 94, 96. Corn Shuckings, 95. Corporal Punishment ( See Flagellation). Cowards and Sneaks, 122. Cracklings and Chitterlings, 98. 239 Index. Crinoline and Chignon, 157. Cruelty to Birds, 88. "Cry Babies," 120. Dancing Master, 125. Dark Room — Punishment, 61. Darwin and Lamarck, 38. Day Dreams and Air Castles, 75. December, 100. Declamations — Selections, 39. Demi-Gods and Hero-Wor- ship, 78. Dialogues — School, 205. Diaries, 92. Dime Novels, 81. "Dixie" — National Air, 39. Doctors — Boy's Aversion, 63, 156. Dog Days, 110. Don Quixote, 18, 140. Dream Books, 57. Dress— Old Time, 122. Duelling— Old Times, 197. Dunces and Dullards, 163. Durham, Billy, at Vicksburg, 42. Early Rising — Dislike of, 85. Easter Observances, 108. Eating — Boys' Glory, 36. Educational Conditions, Early. 203. Elves, Fairies and Pixies, 54. Entertaining a I5oy, 35, 30. Envy — Evils of, 122. Epochs in Child Life, 102. Evil Eye — Boy's Terror, 57. Exaggeration — Characteris- tic, 02. Exhibitions— School, 109, 222. Fairies, Fables and Fiddles, .55. Father to the Man, 34. Fear and Firmness, 61. Festivals and Fetiches, 131. Fido and the Toad, 92. Fire Crackers, 28, 109. Fishing, 29. Flagellation, 31, 53, 132. Fleas, Flies and Frogs, 26, 160. Football and Firecrackers, 109. Fourth-of-July, 236. Friday — Superstition, 61. Frogs, 87. Fruit, Food and Fish. Games, 216. Gander-Pulling, 105. Georgia — Early Education of, 201. "Getting by Heart," 207. "Getting Full," 196. Ghosts, Goblins and Giants, 54, 58. Goethe, 25, 28. Going to the Dentist, 156. "Goobers" and Gardens, 46, 155. Graveyards, Gorgons, etc., 58. Griefs of Boyhood, 54, 62. Grottoes of Fairies, 54. Ground Hog, 105. "Gulliver's Travels," 54. Gypsies, 93. Halloween, 111. Hangings, 99. . Ha'nts — Cats, etc., 57. "Hard-shell" liaptists, 98. ' Haunted Houses, 100. Heredity, 122. Hero-Worship. 7.5, 78. "Hide and Seek," 206. "Hide the Switch," 206. Hobson, Richmond P., 165. Hoecake and Hominy, 94. 240 Index. Hog Killing Time, 98. Holidays, 85, 102, 223. Holly and Mistletoe, ;)8-112. Home-made Clothes, 43. "Home, Sweet Home," 40,147. "Hop-Scotch," 207. "Horatius at the Bridge," 39. "Hot Ball," 207. House Cleaning, 151. Hunting, 100, 230. Idyllic Hours, 18. Independence Day, 109. Insects — 88. Jack-the-Giant-Killer, 18. Jay-Bird — Superstition, 61. Jealousies, 12G. Jeflries, Richard, 22. Joan of Arc — Witchcraft, 54. Johnston — Col. Richard Mal- colm, 19, 201. "Josephus Orangeblossom," 137. Kidd, Capt.— Pirate, 82. Kindergarten, 23. "Kit Carson" — Boy's Ideal, 81. Kites and Tops, 68. Lanes in the Country, 147. "Lap-Jacket," 206. "Laying Out"— "Turn Outs," 30. Leap Frog, 208. Lessons and Tasks, 24. Literary Taste— Child, 137. Lives of the Pirates, 82, 137. Lizards and Reptiles, 87. Log-Rolling, 95. London Church Times, 35. Love — Rehearsing Speech, 127. Lyrics of the Rebellion, 39. Mad Dogs — Fear of. 111. Marbles — Losing at, 68. "Marco Bozzaris," 39. Marmalade, 154. May-Day Festivals, 107. Measles — Epidemic in School, 26. ]\Temorial Day, 107. Memories of Boyhood, 28-30. Memorizing in School, 210. Mothers — Then and Now, 150. Mumps and Whooping Cough, 26. Muscadines, 86. Negroes — Superstitions, etc., 60, 68. "Nellie Gray"— Old Ballad, 40. New Year's Day, 103. Night — Sounds in, 100. Noise — Boy's Ambition, 112, Nutting Season, 86. Nymphs, 54. Oberon and Titania, IS. Old Field Schools, 18, 201. Old Home, 147. "Old Sister Phoebe," 206. Omens, Ogres and Miracles, 60. Opossum Hunting, 232. Optimism of Youth, 80, 110. Orgies of Voodoos, 189. Pan and His Satyrs, 158. Passing of Old Pedagogues, 19, 226. Perseverance Fallacy, 114. Phrenology, 130. Picnics, 159. "Pilgrim's Progress," 141. Pills — Boy's Aversion, 156. Pins — In Chair and Bed, 45. Pirate Kings — Ideal, 82. 241 Index. "Poking Fun," 45. Politicians — Youthful, 38. 'Possum and 'Taters, 96. Posterity's Debt, 197. Post-Ollice — Valentine Day, 104. Pranks of Boyhood. 45. Preaching — Aversion to, 66. "Prisoner's Base," 208. Prompting, 204. Prospero's Wand, 18. Punishment — Unjust, 30. "Puppy-Love," 02. "Puss-in-the-Corner," 208. Quail, 29. "Queen of May," 107. Quilting— Old Times, 95. Quondam Lovers Meeting, 170. Rabbit Foot — Superstition, 61. Rabbit Hunting, 100. Raccoon Hunting, 231. Reading — First Steps, 137. Reasoning of Child, 27. Retrospection, 162. Revivals, 94. Revivals — Negro, 94. "Rhapsody of Life's Prog- ress," 76. "Robin Hood," 18. "Robinson Crusoe," 18, 139. Romeo and Juliet — How Made, 135. Rustic Children, 29. "Salad Days," 78. Santa Claus, 35. Satan — Terror of, 59. Scandal, Gossip, etc., 124. School Houses — Old Time, 206. School Room — Discipline, 207- 213. Sea-Rovers — Charm of, 82. Signs of Bad Luck, 61. Skeletons — Family, 124. Slang— Antc-Bellum, 30, 119. Sleeping Alone at Night, 61. Smoking— Early Started, 118. Snakes, Spiders, etc., 87. Songs of the War, 39. Spectres, Spooks and Spirits, 59. Spinsters, 158. Spring Cleaning, 151. St. Patrick's Day, 106. St. Valentine's Day, 104. Stone Bruises, Stubbed Toes, etc., 68. Studying Aloud, 206. Sunday School, 65. Superstitions of Boyhood, 54. "Tag," 207. Temper, 24. Temperaments — Law of, 131. Terrors of Childhood, 57, 100. "Tom Tiddler's Land," 18. Tops, Toys, etc., 37, 44. Town and Country Schools, 28. Tragedies of Youth, 47. Traps, 229. Treason Among Playmates, 47. "Turn Outs," 225. "Uncle Toby and the Fly," 159. "Uncle Tom"— Story of. 68. "Undiscovered Countries," 105. Unruly Boys. 32. Utopia — More's, 164. Vacation Time, 84. 242 Index. Valentines, 104. "Valentine Vox," 141. "Vicar of Wakefield," 142. Visions, 54. Voodoo-Worship — Negro, 57, 189. War Songs, 40. Webster's Spelling Book, 25. Wee-Folk Lore, etc., 54. West, Dick, at Perryville, 42. Whipping (See Flagellation). Will and Temper of Child, 23. "Willy Boys," 121. Winter Sports, 100. Witches and Wizards, 54. Woman's Influence, 169. Woman's Rights — Old Times, 150. "Young Bloods," 196, i Youth and Love, 127. Yuletide, 54. 243 THE Bbhcy press 114 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK ANNOUNCEMENTS May be ordered through any bookseller or will be mailed free for the pub- lished price AUTHORS AND ARTISTS Collins, Wilkie. 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