THE TIM BUNKER PAPERS. 255 



some in old Virginia, and by the bones of our honored 

 dead we are going to see this thing fought straight 

 through. 



Yours to command, 



TIMOTHY BUNKER, ESQ. 

 Hookertown, Oct. 5th, 1864. 



72. TIM BUNKER S RAID AMONG THE 

 PICKLE PATCHES. 



MR. EDITOR : &quot; What is in the wind now ? &quot; asked Seth 

 Twiggs, as Mrs. Bunker and I started off down the Shad- 

 town .road. 



&quot; Smoke,&quot; said I, as Seth pulled out his stump of a pipe, 

 and blew a puff into the air like a small locomotive just 

 firing up. Old Black Hawk has n t been used much lately, 

 and he went off considerable gay, as we struck the turn 

 pike on Seth Twiggs corner. Seth did not follow his big- 

 bellied Dutch pipe a great while, but fell back upon his 

 own tried and trusty clay stump. It is mighty hard for 

 old dogs to learn new tricks, and Seth is one of em. 3Iy 

 letter agin tobacco didn t have any more effect on him, 

 than peas rattling on a tin pan. 



&quot; Well, I didn t mean that,&quot; said Seth. &quot; Where are you 

 gwine ? &quot; 



&quot; I am going down to Shadtown, to take the boat,&quot; 

 said I. 



&quot; Then where ? &quot; asked Seth, perseveringly. 



&quot;And then to New York, and up into Westchester 

 county, visiting. And if any of the neighbors get into a 



