94 ORCHARD KNOB. 



the cemetery gate, as I passed out, there 

 were at least two hundred sparrows ; but 

 inside, on three visits, I saw not one ! How 

 this exemption had been brought about, I 

 did not learn ; but it makes of the cemetery 

 a sort of heavenly place. I felt the silence 

 as the sweetest of music (it was a Sunday 

 afternoon), and thought instantly of Comus 

 and his " prisoned soul " lapped in Elysium. 

 If I knew whom to thank, I would name 

 him. 



A mocking-bird, aloft upon the topmost 

 twig of a tall willow near the entrance, was 

 pouring forth a characteristic medley, in the 

 midst of which he suddenly called loick-a- 

 wicJc, vdcha-wick, in the flicker's very happi- 

 est style. " So flickers must now and then 

 come to Chattanooga," I said to myself, for 

 up to that time I had seen none. It was 

 a pleasure to hear this great songster of 

 the South singing above these thousands of 

 Northern graves. It seemed 7ight ; for time 

 and the event will prove, if, indeed, they 

 have not proved already, that the South, 

 even more than the North, has reason to be 

 glad of the victory which these deaths went 

 far to win. 



