ANDERS0NY1LLE VIOLETS. 
Copyrighted by the Rural New-Yorker. 
All rights reserved. 
chapter V.—( Continued .) 
There was a look on the face of the officer 
that Jack did not like. The rest of the paper 
was read as the soldiers unbouud Jack’s arms 
and heartily shook hands with him. Jack 
almost wished for a moment that the paper 
had never been written. He was pardoned 
in consequence of his previous good conduct, 
but that his grave otleuse might Lie a lesson to 
others, he was dishonorably discharged from 
the service—never to enter it again. It was 
worse than the death sentence to a proud 
man. Many a man would prefer death to a 
life of imprisonment, where all hope and am¬ 
bition must be starved out of him. Many a 
man would rather die than live in the midst of 
former friends who could only point the fin¬ 
ger of shame, and use him as a terrible exam¬ 
ple for their children. 
Tho soldiers—Jack’s old comrades—looked 
at each other in horror. “Dishonorably dis¬ 
charged” from the service they would give 
their lives for so willingly"—for which they 
had suffered so much. With all a Southern 
man’s love of honor and chivalry they' recoiled 
from such a bitter disgrace. Better death 
than such dishonor. What true Southern man 
or woman could ever look upon a man who 
had been “dishonorably discharged.” Such 
a stain would cling through one's life. 
Jack felt the disgrace keenly. He turued 
white as death and the tears came into his 
eyes. 
“Kill me, boys,” he begged, “I can stand 
that I reckon, but don’t send me back like 
that.” 
But the squad of men marched sullenly 
back to the barracks—glad vet sorry that the 
execution had been prevented. Glad that 
Jack was to live, sorry that such a terrible 
stain was to he put upon his character. Jack 
followed them slowly back to the prison 
walk. The soldiers who knew of his sentence 
seemed to shun him. There was no excuse 
that, lie could offer. It seemed as if bis proper 
place was inside the heavy gate with the other 
prisoners. All his lile was clouded. There 
seemed no hope for him. Wbat would Lucy 7 
say to her dishonored knight ? 
As Jack passed slowly by the stockade, the 
gate swung open and the guard passed out, 
followed by a squad of prisoners who carried 
the dead. Jack turned carelessly to look at 
them. Archie’s long, yellow hair straggled 
out from beneath the blauket that had been 
loosely thrown over him. Jack recognized 
the head at once. He stepped to the side of 
the tart in which the bodies were placed, and 
looked long and earnestly at the boyish face 
for which he had lost so much. 
The soldiers who had charge of the work 
did not know of Jack’s dishonor. They sup¬ 
posed he hail been pardoned without any con¬ 
dition. They spoke to him as of old. 
“It’s the little babe I reckon Jack,” they 
said. “See them flowers He’d throw hisself 
mighty straight ef he had them at home, 1 
reckon.” 
Jack glanced at the violets fastened in 
Archie’s shirt. A strange impulse tempted 
him to take them. 
“I reckon I'll keep them,” he said, and he 
reached over and pulled them from their fast¬ 
ening. It would be something after all to 
keep these little flowers even if they had 
brought him such dishonor. He turned back 
to the barracks and the cart jolted on to the 
rude graveyard. 
CHAPTER VI. 
THE ESCAPE. 
Uncle Nathan and John marched slowly 
over the hills toward the woods. The gang 
shortly after leaving the prison had divided 
up into small squads which marched out in 
different directions. Each squad consisted of 
six prisoners and two guards. The prisoners 
understood that a single suspicious gesture 
would be fatal to them. The guards realized 
that prompt action would be necessary. The 
prisoners marched in front, Uncle Nathan and 
John in advance, while the guards followed in 
the rear. The four prisoners who followed the 
leaders were members of a German regiment 
from Pennsylvania. One of them could speak 
.a little English, but their favorite means of 
communication was the rude dialect so com¬ 
mon in the German districts of their State. 
These men made wooden and machine-like 
prisoners just as they- made block-like soldiers. 
They marched heavily 7 on with their eyes bent 
on the ground, punching great holes in the 
sand at each heavy step. Uncle Nathan had 
the most profound contempt for his fellow- 
prisoners. He knew they would be of no 
help whatever in his proposed dash for 
liberty. 
“Them Penusylvany Dutch,” he whispered 
to John, “don’t know nothin’. One of 'em 
keeps settin’ his big hoof right onter my heel. 
We can’t make no dependence on them.” 
It was a strange looking company. John 
walked painfully. His leg hurt him some¬ 
what, but he dragged it manfully on over the 
sand, trying not to limp at all. He would not 
go back now. He had seen Andersouville for 
the last time. He looked wilder than ever. 
The cap with Its drooping visor, the sleeveless 
coat, ragged and tightly buttoned at the throat, 
the gaping shoes and the thin brown legs all 
added to his strange appearance. Uuele 
Nathan marched grimly at John’s side. The 
old man had lost his soldier’s cap. A square 
piece of the lining of his coat with a kuot tied 
in each corner, served for a head covering. 
His gray hair straggled down about bis neck 
and cars, and his grizzled board stood out in 
the wildest disorder about his face The 
lines on his forehead and under his eyes had 
deepened until his face had drawn into a 
grim scowl. His gray eyes glistening under 
the heavy eyebrows, spoke of the rough des¬ 
peration that filled his soul. He had uo coat 
—he had used the last of it in making his flag, 
and bis vest hung in tatters. An attempt had 
been made to patch this latter garment with 
the side of all old meal sack, but this attempt 
had added little to the beauty 7 or usefulness of 
the vest. His shirt sleeves were ragged, and 
the thin brown arms were bare from the 
elbows. 
The “ Pennsylvany Dutch ” looked like 
walking ragbags. Their tattered garments 
shook about them as they marched solidly up 
the hill. They had never taken the least care 
of their clothing, and now their only cover¬ 
ing consisted of a series of rags that seemed in 
constant danger of falling from them. If any¬ 
thing was needed to complete the ridiculous 
picture, the element was certainly supplied by 
the two Rebel soldiers who marched at the 
rear of the column. One was a short, heavy 
Alabamaian with a large, exceedingly hairy 
head and neck, that, seemed bout on imprison¬ 
ing his lace in a forest of hair. His body 
promised to assume true aldermanie propor¬ 
tions when lie should once more secure n close 
proximity to rations that would enable him 
to do himself justice. The spectacle of a fat 
man who has been deprived, for any length of 
time, of the good living that made him 
greater than other men, is a sad one. We 
feel that the form and face have been driven 
back from the proud proportions they once 
held. We watch such a inau’s smile with sor¬ 
row for we feel that it. ought to be at least, 
an inch iu advance of its present ground. 
The short soldier walked with short waddling 
footsteps, with bis musket thrown carelessly 
over his shoulder, yet keeping a sharp lookout 
on the prisoners. He was dressed iu the pre¬ 
vailing slouch hat and dirty gray uuiform of 
the Confederacy. His coat, evidently 7 made 
at a happier time, when its owner had access 
to a better table, hung in loose folds about his 
body. His reduced logs struck against the 
sides of Ins voluminous pants with about the 
appearance of a blow against the aide of a 
hanging carpet. Uncle Nathan had singled 
out this man as the easier of the two to handle. 
The other soldier was the exact opposite of 
bis companion. A tall, gaunt, Mississipplau, 
with the long, thin legs and arms, lank hair 
and melancholy face peculiar to the “ piney 
woods ” regions. A student, of character wall 
notice that men can be known by the character 
of the soil upon which they have beeu raised. 
A dry, thin soil is almost sure to produce long, 
thin men who seem eager to grow' away as 
far as possible from the earth that has barely 
supported them. On rich soil will be found 
men, thick and heavy, who seem to desire to 
walk solidly upon the good ground. The tall 
guard towered high above his comrade. He kept 
his dull, heavy eyes carefully fixed upon 
space as he marched solemnly on. His loug, 
thin features and cadaverous cheeks, con¬ 
trasted strongly with the good-natured face 
of the man at his side, whose short legs were 
taxed to their utmost to keep iu step. Both 
men, in addition to their muskets, carried re¬ 
volvers at their belts. 
The strange procession moved on over the 
hills with some semblance of order till tho first 
valley was reached. Once out of sight of the 
camp, the discipline of the guards and the 
legs of the short man gave out together. The 
portly soldier stopped the long stride, and fell 
back to bis more comfortable abort step. The 
long soldier, with the accommodating indo¬ 
lence of his race, shortened his own stop. 
Uncle Nathan and John iustiuctively slack¬ 
ened their pace, but the “Penusylvany 
Dutch” went ou with the same stride. They 
ran into the leaders so heavily that John and 
Uncle Nathan stepped to the side and fell in 
behind the progressive Dutchmen. 
There was reason and method in this new 
movement. Uncle Nathan wished to get near 
t.lie two soldiers aud throw them off their 
guard. He had great, faith in bis conver¬ 
sational powers. The useless energy dis¬ 
played by the “Pennsylvany Dutch,” did not 
meet, with the approval of the stout soldier. 
To him all extra motion was useless. They 
were not, to his mind, engaged in any walk¬ 
ing match or any other event in which useless 
energy was required. 
“Halt!” he Shouted, in his most command¬ 
ing tone, holdiug his musket with one hand, 
while with the other he pulled his capacious 
vest down into something like position. This 
vest movement, seetns to be the favorite mo- 
tiou of authority employed by fat meu of 
good nature and small intellect. The Ger¬ 
mans halted so suddenly that they plowed 
great holes in the saml with their feet. They 
never moved their heads, but stood with eyes 
held directly iu front or them, waiting for the 
next order. 
“I reckon ye’d better go to the front an’ 
march ’em sorter slow like, Bill,” said the 
portly commander of the expedition, ns he 
pushed his hat to one side of his hairy head. 
The long soldier, thus advised, placed himself 
at tho head of the columu without a word of 
argument. He kept his eyes straight before 
him, looking neither to the right nor to the 
left, as if confident that his comrade was fully 
able to manage everything in the rear. 
“For’ad march! Slow!” ordered the com¬ 
mander pulling his hat down over his fore¬ 
head. 
At the word Bill started at his most indol¬ 
ent pace, while the poor "Pennsylvany Dutch” 
went tumbling over one anothers’ feet in their 
efforts to keep pace with the slow motion. 
The fat man toddled at the rear fully satisfied 
with the success of his new arrangements. 
He grew quite communicative as they 
marched slowly on. 
"I expect you Yanks ain’t gut nary piece of 
terbacker have ye—I done used mine ail up,” 
he begau. 
At, the word “terbacker” Bill’s face displayed 
its first sign of intelligence. His chin dropped 
into something like a smile, aud one dull eye 
glanced back to take notes on the answer. 
There are various ways ot reaching the souls 
of different meu. 
The question may be considered, by some 
persons, a very foolish one. Wbat reasonable 
man could expect prisoners, suffering for want 
of the simple necessaries of life to bo provided 
with an article which is usually looked upon 
as a luxury? However, the question served to 
open the conversation, and is uo more useless 
than many used for a like purpose. Uncle 
Nathan appointed himself as spokesman for 
the party, John and the “Pennsylvany Dutch” 
never offered an} 7 objection. 
“No, we ain’t gut, none. Don’t s’pose we can 
git none of you, cau we? I was kinder iu hopes 
wo could.” 
The tobacco question, though easily ex¬ 
hausted, paved the way for an extended con¬ 
versation and by the time the first wood pile 
was reached Uncle Nathan aud the fat soldier 
were on as good terms as their circumstances 
would allow 7 . A discussion or conversation be¬ 
tween any prisoner and bis keeper must al¬ 
ways be a trifle one-sided, but it is better than 
a complete silence, Ou reaching the pile, the 
first act of the commander was to suggest a 
rest. There was no attempt at argument ou 
this proposition, and the wtiole party at once 
sat, down in the sand, near a tall pine, to gather 
strength for the return trip. The two guards 
sat a little to one side. The “Penusylvany 
Dutch” sat directly iu tho sun, and fell at once 
into the discussion of some evidently interest¬ 
ing point, in their disjointed German. 
“Whar be them fellers from, Yank,” asked 
the Alabamaian, pointing to the group. 
“Thems wbat wo call Penusylvany Dutch,” 
answered Uncle Nathan, "furrenets” he added, 
fearful lest the Rebel might think these men 
came from his beloved State of Maine. 
“ Wall, Yank,” continued the leader, re¬ 
flectively, “them furreners is what done it. 
I’m doggoued if that ain’t so. They’ve hurt 
us right smart, I reckon. Ef you all bed gut 
shut of them furreuers, we sbud be way on 
top of ye now. Them furreuers is what’s 
doin’ It, I reckon,” 
Uncle Nathan found it hard to answer this 
statement calmly. He had his own ideas ou 
the subject, aud it was hard to keep them 
back. He knew that Old Abe, with the aid 
of men like his own from the “State o’ Maine,” 
had done more than all the “ furreners” that 
over breathed. iStill, it was his present policy 
to keep his captors good natured, and so he 
muttered shortly, 
“ Mebbe so.” 
“Yes, sail. Its them furreners an’ that 
twenty-nigger law thet’s gonter do it, ef any¬ 
thing does. You all kin see that:. Drop them 
furreuers out an’ we’ll march—wall, right 
smartly into your country.” The geogruphy 
of the fat leader was evidently defective; he 
did not care to assume the responsibility of 
giving any exact point at the North wlipre he 
could safely march. “We is a heap bet ter fight¬ 
ers than you all is. We can march all round ye, 
I reckon. When we marched up lo Gettys¬ 
burg, our company went by a house w liar 
they wuz a couple of ladies sot out iu front. 
I heard ’em whisper like- 'they march het- 
ter’n our’n, but ain’t,.they dirty :’ But for thet 
twenty-nigger law an’ them furreners, we’d 
a whipped ye.” 
Uncle Nathan was about to give his ideas 
concerning constitutional law, when Bill sur¬ 
prised everyone by rising to liis feet as a gen¬ 
tle intimation that the time had come for an 
action against the wood pile. The fat man 
followed Bill, and routed the “ Pennsylvany 
Dutch’’from their position in the sand. He 
had evidently taken quite a fancy to Uncle 
Nathau, an 1 desired to reserve the lightest 
work for him 
“ Bill” he suggested, “jest load up them fur¬ 
reners an’ start ’em in slow like. I'll sorter 
take these ycr Yanks an’git some light-wood.’ 
"Fall in Yanks ! March !” and he indicated 
with lus hand the direction in which (he light- 
wood lay. 
The two men stepped off with a farewell 
glance at the patient " Pentisj lvany Dutch 
they were nsolved never to see their fellow 
captives again, unless the meeting took place 
within tho Union lines. Cnole Nathan shook 
his head with grim pleasure at the thought of 
singling out this fat gentleman who held such 
a poor opinion of the fighting Qualities of 
Maine men, He meant to change that opinion 
decidedly. The melancholy Bill carefully 
loaded his Germans with logs. “Forward ! ” 
he ordered, in a doleful whin?, aud the gal¬ 
lant “furreuers” started hack to the prison. 
Bill followed, never looking back to see bow 
his companion fared. 
A short march through the pines brought 
the light-wood party to a pile of small, well- 
seasound sticks. The guard produced two long 
strips of raw hide from bis pocket, aud direct¬ 
ed John aud Uncle Nathan to lend I he sticks 
into faggots of convenient, size for carrying. 
He sat on a log during this operation keeping 
a close watch on t he prisoners, lie evidently 
appreciated their society, as far us it weut, 
but. he did not propose to fall a victim to any 
of the evils, incident to n close companionship. 
When the faggots were bound, he invited the 
prisoners to take another rest before return¬ 
ing. Undo Nathan and John sat ou the piles 
of wood, and the three men watched each 
other carefully. 
It was a strange group. The Rebel, uffable 
and pompous, yet with his hand on his re¬ 
volver ready to shoot at the least suspicious 
movement. The two gaum, prisoners praying 
for a chance to spring upon their cotnpauiou. 
The Rebel was evidently curious as to the 
origin and purpose Of the “furreuers.” 
“We done keptured a heap of them fellers at 
Ch uoeJiorsville,” he begau. “Stuart was 
sent ahead to run some Tanks back, an’ we 
supported him. We fit tbar right smart fer 
half an hour 1 reckon, when that- kern a rush 
an’some of you all's cavalry jumped right 
inter us. Stuart he wheeled like an’ tuck ’em 
on the flank, an we closed up arc keptured a 
heap of’em. They wuz all Dutchmen, an’ I’m 
doggoued ef they wurnt all tied their bosses. 
They didn’t know nothin’ about reinin’, an’ 
them bosses hed run away with ’em. Thar 
we stud ycr, an’ Stuart he kem up ycr.” He 
had traced the plan of the battle out in the 
sand with the toe of bis boot. 
[To be continued.) 
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