“But ter show yer jes whut kin’ uv er furrager I kin be when I gits my han’ in,” he went on, “a week or so arter dat, we got clean out, an’ I went out ter git somepin ter eat. I c’u’dn’t fin’ nuffin but some bee hives in a farmyard. Wall, I wuz ez handy wid bees ez I wuz wid mud-larks, an’ de nex’ mawnin’ fo’ gallons ob lubly honey wuz in de haidquarters mess chists.
“De ole farmer raised Cain when he foun’ it out, an’ heah he come down to haidquarters nex’ mawnin to tell de majah. Wall, de majah, he tells de colonel, an’ de colonel he gits mouty mad. He draws de reg’ment up an’ makes ’em er speech, an’ he sez, sezee: ‘Enny man dat’ll rob his countryman am worse dan er dawg;’ an’ ef he c’u’d fin’ de man whut robbed de ole man’s bee-gums he’d hang ’im up by de thum’s. Wall, sur, he talked on twel he git so patriotic he issues er sarch warrant. De fust chist dey went in wuz his’n, an dar sot fo’ gallons ob lubly honey. De colonel looked dum’-founded at de majah, an’ de majah looked jes ez nachul at de colonel, an’ de ole farmer he looked lak he done los’ all ’spect he hed fer de Sudern Confedercy, and den de colonel, he sez ter de majah:
“‘Majah,’ sezee; ‘whyn’t yer tell me ole Rube wuz out furragin las’ night? I’d nurver let you issue dat d— little sarch warrant.’”
The opportunities of the Florence of to-day fills one with wonder and enthusiasm. Here, where once were woods, is a growing city, its manufactories covering the banks of a noble stream, which, with the two greatest railroads in the South—the Louisville & Nashville and the Southern—give it rates and an opportunity unsurpassed anywhere. It is as sure to be a great city as men are to see and hear. Here is the opportunity of a life for any young man who wishes to till the land or to build factories or stores.
But this part of it is all better told by Mr. Sweetland in another chapter herein, and I desist.—Ed. Trotwood.
Florence As It Was in 1820.
By Anne Royal.