A smile across your face once stole, And bro't a song into heart, Whose music is the counterpart · Of melodies of YOUI'.. own soul.
II.
A wordless little song, 'tis true, Yet bears me that you understand Nor more of song could I demand Than just one verse of faith from you.
III,
How wearily the path I've trod, How in life's race my strength is spent The world knows not. I am content If Known alone to you and God.
IV.
The music's chanted tenderly, The strains are plaintive now and low Yet evermore the song doth flow And, in the heart, must deathless be.
Day Dreams and the Day's Work.
BY J. GLENN BARBE, '10.
ITis a queer custom that gets the farmer's boy up earlier on Monday morning than on any other day .in the week, but true to this rule, Bobby stood in the corner of the new ground waiting for sunrise to show him the long weedy rows e:f cor n which must be hoed that day. A long, tired sigh heaved his vigorous chest, as the gray streaks in the east turned to silver and gold, and daylight flashed from µeak to peak and slowly crept down the wooded slopes to the patch of cleared land half way up the mountains.
The inspiring scene st'emed to kindle some dormant passion in the boy and he bared his towsled hed in obe \Sance to the rising sun and turned his raptured gaze toward the foothills stretching out below him toward the river. The white bank of fog which hung above,_the \river vanished while he gazed, disclosing to hi.S! view the green and narrow valleys la ced with silvery streams, smiled u.pon by hills de,cked with the spring foliage of trees,, vines and wild flowers of extravagant beauty, while over all the mountains towered in solemn grandeur. ''That's God's country,'' smiled the' boy, as the mountain sp~rit in him swelled his soul to overflowing, and he hallooed with: all his might and listern~d to the mountain echoes answer till they, fading into whispers, died away.
Ble turned abruptly to the day's work which he must do and soon: his new hoe rang in the gravelly soil as the weeds fell before him while the bright green corn waved proudly from th e fr es h clean row behind. F1or an hou.r forth and ,back he came. taking row by row from the weedy field and adding to the cfeaned one. He paused and looked with pride !upon the change his hoe had wrought, then turned .again to work and for another hour timed his th01Ughts to the stro k.e of his hoe which swished and clanged among the weeds and gravels.
The sun began to heat the eaxth and atmosphere and drops of perspiration chased each other down his cheeks.
A squirrel chattered at him from the new rail fence and a -pheasant thundered from the woods nearby. ow, why should a boy be tem:r>ited in that way when he is trying like a man to do his day's work1 No siren's song . e'erdrew th& listening sailor with more intent than these tempta-tions drew the toiling boy. That squirrel's nest was in the snarly chestnut tr6e and he could climb the grape-vine up to the hollow limb into which the- squirrel would run when he gave chase. Down went the hoe, and up the. slope, along the fence he ran, his bare toes clutching at the soil, his tattered bat grasped firmly in his hand.
0, hapless squirnl ! Straight t.o the tree it ran and into the h-ollow limb which Bob had seen before. Was ever a boy so lucky 'l He began to think perhaps he was destined to become a noted man, perhaps some day he would sto:r>i a frighttned horse and rescue a beaJUtiful girl. But just now his; heart was beating like a sledge as he swung from the vine onto the limb, and, clasping it close with arms and legs, crawlt'd toward the hole in which the squirrel hid. "I'll have to build a cage to "keep it in,'' he thought, when out it flashed and up the tree to anotht:r limb, out to an oak, down to the ground and on through the woods it ran while Bobby watched it like a dunce and slowly realized the joke of climbing a tree to catch a squirrel. ''As · well dive into the sea to catch a fish,''! he thought, '' though I ain't never seen the sea. ·wonder if that ph&asant isn't in that rottening log. I'd rather have him than the squirrel anyway.''
It was an easy slide down the vine to. the ground. His trow·sers fared badly in the descent but it mattered little, they could be patched. With mouth a,gape and eyes aler~ he crept toward the log in which the pheasant would be caught, when 1i~e a hundred pheasants at his very feet it roared and soared away. Wby he did not see it ho· could not understand but now that it was gone he threw himself up.on a IlliOSSY rock to rest before he turned again to hoe the weedy corn.
His fancy soon began to lure him to the days when he would be a man and wear a beard and have a watch and chain. He then could be the teacher in the district school and never
would he whip the boys or ke6p them in from play, and soon his boyish mind was building kingdoms of its own far biggtr and better than this world which he had seen. The cabins all were turned to palaces and all the boys and girls would wear clean clothes and ribbons evtry day. She would ask him if he could write poetry and he would answer with a verse and use her name, and he would lend her all his books to read, and one could take the peaches off of any tree he saw, and weeds would never grow in new-ground corn. In hi~ airship he could fly in twenty minutes to her home and she could play every musical instrument in the world-when a strangely swe6t buzzing sound like distant bells and waterfalls waked him from his reverie and he saw just overtop the trees a swarm of bees darting in a million lints -yet moving slowly toward some tree which they had hollowed for a hive.
Up sprang the boy a·nd followed them in hopes that he would :find the tree and when it was filled with honey in the fall could cut it down and have- a royal feast. But strange enough, bees do not consult boys as to where they build their honeycomb. The swarm moved on across the mountain topi so Bobby turned again without reward to the day's work now sadly iu arrears; fur somehow time had flown rapidly while he was dreaming in the woods.
But now that he was so near he would go just a few steps more to the mountain top, view the country from this lofty height and feel the rapture of supremacy, looking down upon the world so far beneath him.
But on the mountain top there stood a tall pine tree. Its roots had found a fertile fissure in the rocks and its trunk had grown to gigantic proportions. High! above tht' other trees it proud,ly raised its head to catch the first glimpse of the morning sun and it was bathed in golden glory after ev,~ning shadows had lmgthened across the surrounding hills. From its topmost bow the eagle screamed a challenge to the huntsman's rifle or the hoot-owl waked the echoes from the cliffs around. How insignificant he felt a.s first he looked up into the flecked shadows of its evergreen branches. He was so small, his life so short, the great tree was teaching him the
t · ' weakness of human strength. H'e grew older from that hour, and life harder to live.
Back down the· mountain side he went bewailing the fate that had cast his lot in a land of cabin homes where weary women worked the whole day through to make and mend the clothes, cook and clean, wash, iron and scrub, milk, churn and feed the chickens. The children, too, must work the garden, drive the cows, cut wood, and feed and curry, help plant the fields in springtime, pick berries in the summer sun and gather in the· beans and pumpkins in the fall. But that corn muat be hoed. .As he hurried to the field a long trumpet like blast blown from a gourd handle at some farmhouse in the valley • below told him the noon hour of rest had ~assed and it was time to go to work. He would hastily eat his lunch and fly into those weeds like a cavalry charge. Alas I time lost can never be reclaimed. The weeds had grown, the sun shone hotter and the mossy rock on which he sat before seemed to invite to anoth&r moment's ·rest before he crossed the fence. But no I he would be a man -and do that day's work yet. Elis proud spirit could not stoop to failure when a task was given him. He would roll that rock down the mountain side and finish every weedy row by sunset. The rock rolled fast enough when starte-d but it glanced a tree which changed its course into the new rail fence and half a dozen panels were torn down. Another hour of the hardest work ,of all his fourteen years rebuilt the fence and as he- ate his lunch his eyes alternated between estimating the height of the waning sun and the size of the weedy field of corn.
About fuur hours for him to work and if his strength sur-vivE:·d the mighty race with time he would finish yet. He seized his hoe but as he set to work the graceful glistening body of a Rattler glided from the wet::ds towards the spring in which it daily bathed to slake its thir st . What boy beneath the shining sun would not have chased that snake. Though for hi-s truancy he should have to crowd all the days work that b ·-Jlt th e pyramids into those remaining four hours T Poor Bobby hardly reach ed the fence below the field before he realiz ed that down-hill was the wrong way to chase a make. Back
, -
to his hopeless :task he turned, his heart began to falter, yet in, desperation he began to wield his hoe. 0, for another hour of day! He might get so neariy done that some e:imuse could be devised for having failed. If he had worked ahead and never chased the squirrei, or if he had not rolled the rock, how different it would be. Yet see the weedy rows retreat before his . flashing hoe, half of his task was done, but his rapid work began to tire his arms,. yet with a faith sublime he labored on (until across the ridge _ a pack of hounds came baying eagerly at the fox in sight. His roach was droopiing and with weary leaps he headed toward the cliff ab-0ve the spring. Excited . Bobby made a dash -to catch the fox before he· reached his den. A boy that would not chase a fagging fox has no impulses ,in his poor weak soul that make him worthy of the· name. What a prize at last! Fair recompense for all the disappointments ·of the day! He shouted in delight but Reynard vanished in the r ocky den with Bobby not a half yard behind.
Down sank the sun like a shooting -star, a thousand sllades of· darkness chased ~ach other toward the unfinished fiold and circumstances that w,o,uld have wrecked nations combined against 'the poor tired b•oy. ' This was the hour whon he should have whistled ·on his homeward way triumphant ov:or every weedy !OW; but now heart-broken and undone his troubled.. eyes began to fill with tears and the wearied boy broke out in piteous crying. Down the mountain side he ran along the winding footpath toward his home to make his humiliating confession But boyish troubles have an end, and hope revived when Bobby found his anxious mother waiting for him at the gate: A bright torchlight burned in the open fireplace beside which his· father sa.t and smol::ed while Bobby ate his supper. The story of the day's reverses only made him laugh and say that any boy that would not chase a fox would be no boy of his. So Bobby went to bed relieved, his day's work' done.
The old folks sat a little longer whire the flicikering torch . grew dim; but what mattered it with them V The father had seon in the boy a picture of his youth and lived it over once again. A tear drop glistened like a diamond as it fell upon
his whitening beard hut he smiled as he thought of his own life's work so much like this day of Bobby's. His towsled cuxls recalled to his mother her girlhood days before the flush of beauty had faded from her cheeks or lines of care had marked her brow, and fancy twined again the bridal wreath while Bobby in his dreams caught every pheasant, fox. and squirrel that he chased.
Folk Lore of Lower Henrico.
BY PAULINE PEARCE, '11.
On e poet of the Southland has said:
"Oh! still a something strange and rare O'e rrules this tranquil earth and air, Ca:sting o'er both a glamour known To their enchanted realm alone."
To those who know and lov.e the city this glamour seems to center aroun,d and emenate from Richmond. Almost every street of the old city can boast of some romance in which national characters played a part; while the hills and meadows about it assume a special beauty when we read into them their history. It is useless to speak of such plac1::s as Seven Pines, where the two great armies clashed and struggled for d ays and weeks, or of Yellow Tavern, where Stuart, our hero and our cavalier sans peur et sans reproche, fought his last fight, and fell, a hero to the last; but l et us rath er look for this charm owr the spots where it is harder to find.
Do you know the story of the second English city founded in America? We are not accustomed to think of America as ~he land of ruins, yet if you will go down the James river uut.il Y<?U are about eighteen mil es from the falls, land at Dutch Gap Island, and seek the end of the island furthest from the Gap, you w:ill find the remains of what was once a flourishing city. At the beginning of September, 1611, Sir Thomas Dale left
Jamestown and began work upon this new city. Within a short Lime it was built and strongly fortitl<'1l. It had three streets, a faire and handsome church of brick, and watch-tow€rs, storehoust>s, an,d private dwellings.
At the founding of the city its inhabitants numbered three hundred. It continued a flourishing town until the founding of Richmond led to its gradual abandonment. It was the only place on the frontier which escaped the massacre of 1644.
This City of Henrico, as he called it, was Sir Thomas Dale's hobby, and but one of the many services for which Virginia is indebted to him. When a short time after this city was founded there was serious thought of abandoning Ambrica, the fact that there were then two cities in Virginia did much to persuadt tha people that this country was worth their sacrifices.
Too stories of Powhatan and Pocahontas are inextricably bound up with this neighborhood. About a .mile beiow the City of Henrico , on the north side of the river, was Varina, the old home of John Rolfe and Pocahontas. '.rhc home to which Rolfe took his Indian bride did not stand uvuu the sit) which the Varina house now occupies, but upon a hill overlooking the river, and about a quarter of a mile below the present structure. The home of the Princess was a one-story, roomy dwelling, built of logs. The floors were daily strewn w.ith clean sand, and the furniture was of the simplest kind. Everythi ng, within and without, was whitewashed. Heavy oaken bars reinforced the doors, though in this home there was no need of precautions against Indian attack. This was the dwelling in which was consummated our greatest Indian lovp story.
Between Varina and the City of Henrico stood Rocke Hall. the home of the good Mir. Whitacras, the apostle of Virginia.
If his name is not renowned in story it is not becanse he was not worthy. As a religious cavalier he left, a. goodly living in England and came to America to give the gospel to the Redmen. Here he labored in love and charity until his untimely end. He was drowned upon the James as he was rowing from the City of Henrico to Rocke Hall.
If now you will leave Varina and come toward Richmond about three miles you may see the throne of Powhatan. It stands upon the lawn of an old place called Farmer's Rbst. The chair, cut out of one huge rock, is like a pulpit chair in form. The seat is close to the ground, and the arms and back rolling. 11 is much worn and bears evidence of a great deal of use. From this throne, they say, Powhatan and all the mighty kings who preceded him issued the commands that controlled this part of the world for centuries. It stands to-day as their monument, obscure but bnduring.
To this country, now called Lower Henrico, tradition whispers that they brought Virginia Dare. Here she lived, beloved of Powhatan, until her early death, when she was buried upon the slope of a hill overlooking the river. If you inquire of some of the old and canny people of this district', they will tell you how to find this lane, unmarked grave, and tl:!:_ey will tell you its story as their grandfathers heard it from thGir fathers.
To tell the story of these places as they passed through the Colonial days and Bacon's men fought on them; as Washington marched over them ; then in the time of the Civil War, how the Gap was cut for the Federal gunboats to pass through, and how the lines fought and clashed and struggled about Malvern Hill, Fort Lee or Fort Harrison is not the purpose of this short paper The land is faire and bright now, and there is sweet, calm peace; but the leaves whisper of stirring days, and the green fields tell strange stories to those who will listen.
Ghosts.
BY MACON E . BARNES, '11.
1.
There are ghosts that come in the twilight
Across the fields of snow, To dance with the evening shadows Till they fade in the firelight's glow.
2.
'fhey have come at this hour to haunt me From th.e past that is fading away, And I drift with them back to the evenings Before I was feeble and gray.
3.
The evenings of laughter and sunshine, When I knew not the visag& of care , The evenings when life had grown older, And sorrow with gladness was there.
4.
Th e ev enings of heartache and darkness , When my fe et falt ered slow in the race, Till I pass ed through th e dark valley' s shadow, To climb the fair mountain of grace.
5.
For the pain and th e gri ef and the sorrow Brought me close to th e Infinite Plan , And I'm glad sitting gray in the twilight, Th ey mad e me a happi er man.
6.
Oh , ghost s, you hav e flitt ed and left me, But th e mem ori es alwa ys sta y,
Anc1 I tr easur e th ese h ours of ev enin g, Th e r es t a t th e clo se of th e da y .
ESTHER.
A DRAM A I N ON E AC T
C . L. ST I LLWELL, ' 11.
PER SONS OF TH E P L AY (Scenes fo u r and five)
Ahasiterits, King of Media and Persi a, and ruler over an hundred and seven and twenty .provinces. Haman, Chief Minister of Ahasu.erus.
Harbonah, Chamberlain.
Sigra, clownish servant to Haman . Friends to Haman .
A Captain .
Esther, niece and adopted daughter of Mordecai, and queen Lo Ahasuerus.
Z e'resh, wife to Haman.
M11,Sicians , Dancers, Servants.
·-scene, In the palace of Ahasuerus at Shusan.
Time, about 520 B. C.
SCENE FOUR.
Ahasueriis' inner court, more litxiwious than the outer cou1·t. Ahasue1' us and Haman enter slowly. The thi?-d hour of the day. Ahasiieriis.
Good Haman, .is it doubt of Esther's love
Or fear her royal marriage oath may prove
Untrue, or is it that some vicious god
Thus tempts my heart and draws it from my queen 1 Methinks I feel a wild disorder creep
Along the troubled love-chords o~ my heart, And emulate all hopes of joy and rest; Some vision which is half a hidden dream
Disturbs my hours of rest; some idle fear
Drags thru my bosom as this wild monsoon
Thru deserts bleak, and feeds on pregnant care; I love her not-and yet I have a hopeHast thou observed her aught of late? Hath she Seemed wildly wrought to passion strange?
Haman (sarcasticall,y).
My lord, Thy queen hath scarcely left her chamber door
Since thou this cruel, frenzied fancy took ; Her noble kinsman, Mordecai, attends Upon her day and night; and she doth grieve, E'er fearful lest she give thee some offense.
Ahasuerus.
And hast thou questioned aught of Mordecai ? Thinkst he woulado dishonor to his king He seems to shun me-I begin to feel There is some spite entombed deep in his love For Esther.
Haman ( half ironically).
And yet thou knowest he loves thee, 0 King-(Aside, half aloud) Ay, so it seems.
Ahasuerus, who overhears Haman.
What sayest thou 1
Haman.
'Twas but a reckless thought.
Ahasuerus.
Ah, H_aman, list; It' seems thou trainest thy thoughts to stay from me, 0, if thou lovest me, let me 'mbrace thy mind.
RIOH MOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.
Why dost conduct thy speech, with timid scorn Of noble Mordecai; ape-like! thou speakst As if thou wouldst disguise thy words in one Long stream of senseless chatter.
Haman.
Lord, I hope In opening thus the locket to my thoughts, Thou wilt not think that I imply offence ; But love to thee and duty to thy state Makes me a curse unto myself and thee In that discordant news blasphemes my lips.
Ahasuerus, (with a slight tone of anger).
Give issue to thy words; dissemble not Thy deference with a hopeless tarrying ; And yet, curse not thyself, f<>r love doth bow At duty's shrine, and doth atonement make For what seems blasphemy'. Let duty speak.
Haman.
I like not Mordecai; he is too bold ; I inference drew that he endangered thee And did intend t' betray thee to the Jews; I spied upon him, and in secret learned That he was privy in a plot contrived 'l'o murder thee, and then the Jews would rise And confiscate thy wealth-It matters not, That I thus risk the loss of thy respect And love; muse not thou so--
Ahasuerus ( with rising passion).
Speak, Haman, speak; Thou dost risk everything in silence-speak.
Haman.
I hid myself behind the arras, there In Esther' s chamber; and heard Mordecai Plan flight with her when all thes e things, were done, But she replied- -
Ahasu erus.
Thou shouldst have struck them both With death piled J)n a mountain peak of death.
Haman ( still sarcastically . )
Thy queen is free from guilt. Her soul as pur e As nectared wine drawn from the fountain d ee p, Where it hath b een refined three thousand y ears. Let not my forced wor,ds bring on her head A mark of thy displeasure. Ponder not, But let a gallows be erected where Foolhardy Mordecai shall quickly hang.
Ahasu erus.
Thy words are likely to be pondered on E' en though thou weigh against it. Haman, g o, And leave me with my grief a little while, And keep a serpent's eye on MordecaiI shall not lose the force of thy dear words ; Yet stay-can there not be some hopeful doubt 1 Thine ears deceived thee, or thine eyes played false, Mayhap thy senses were benumbed with wine; Ah! tell me it was thus-ay, anythingTell me thou liest-I will love thee more.
Haman.
Wi0uld that my heart could breed som0 fitful lie, And that my lips could move in pure d ect'. it
To undo all the sorrow they have camr<l-I'll come again anon.
Ahasuerits. Keep to thyself
What thou hast burdened me withal. Anon.
Haman goes out.
Airnasuerits arises, looks vaca-ntly around tke court, walhs across the stage, stops suddenly, as though by som,e outward force, falls back and begins to talk in wild tones.
Methinks I see a gallows, and thereon
Doth Mordecai sway before the tearing winJ; Ah! thus do traitors swing-so should it beAnd Esther there ?-That can not be-and yet 'Tis true-oh! oh! sweet Esther, stay-This shall not be-my brain is burdened with A turmoil worse than din of battlefields, Where clashing shields ring with the axe ' s strokes; As hoofbea.ts dig their way into the soil, Dun sorrow eats into my sickened heartBeside them lordly Haman rides in grace
The ghastly scaffold-yet it grieves me not, Meseems it had been built for him, so well
The rope doth fit his neck-some bent mistake
Is rooted in the sad report he gaveyet Mordecai must die, and Esther shall Be banished from my bosom-
He crosses the court and sinks upon a diivan.
Nay, not soMy book of chronicles shall be brought, and there I'll learn the truth.
I Esther appears and stands just inside the entrance. Ahasuerus sees her.
(Aside.) Mayhap she comes for love?
Then, as the young and timid lamb may find
The sought affection at the lion's den
So shall she find it here.
Ahasuerus crosses the court and calls H a:rbonah and servants. Then turning, he gazes half angrily at her, and utters his words almost unthtinkingly; half aloud.
How holy she !
How sweet the smile that kisses those soft lips
As sunbeams sfealing from the pale-eyed East
Rest gently on the dew-bathed lotus leaves!
How heavily this scepter bends my hand,
And yet 'tis lightr-Come, come, thou canst not hold Within thy jeweled clutch dark death-
Harbonak and servants enter. Esther overhears the words "Come, come," and starts forward. The expression on Ahasuerus' face changes from a frown to a look of admiration. He motions the attenoonts to withdraw. They go out. He extends the scepter to Esther. She approaches, and touches the top of the scepter, kneeling. She is arrayed in black Egyptian silks, bedecked with diamonds, opals and pearls. She has on richly jeweled S(J//'/,dals, and wears her royal crOW!J,, The odor of rare ointments is about her. Ahasuerus continues:
Nay., Queen, Kneel not-arise-come close t,o me. Come, come.
Thou seemest troubled: what is thy request?
I did but now feel weighted with this life, But thy voluptuous form 'doth bring with thee Into the balance all thy loveliness, So that t.ogether we do tip ·the scale Out weighing all the trivial woes of life.
RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.
Sweet, is it enchantment in thy soul
That makes me thus to lose myself in thee ! My spirit launch ed upon thy bosomJ's waves Rests proudly as the ark on Ararat: All fear dissolved, while only hope remains. I fear thou must have suffered sadly since I left thee thus to yield myself to gloom.
Ah ! murmur not-hast thou forgot ney love.
Esther answers by placing her ha,nd in his.
In a moment Ahasueri/,S seems to remember Haman's words, andi pushes Esther from him madly. Then a servant enters.
Esthet· walks over to the window which looks to the south, and gazes out.
Servant.
A captain waits, your lordship, and requests Thy orders.
Haman ( a,ngrily.)
Show him here. Servant goes out. (Musing.) I fear myself, I fear the gods, lest they deal jealously With me. I doubt not that I- love her not. I fear she hath deceived m6. That dim smile, She meant to steel her face doth tinge it with A harlot's flmh-those arms that stole around My neck with serpent's strength have found their way About another's-and-
His head drops in his arms and he is silent.
Esther (musing.)
His face doth wear
A look at which a tiger well might frown;
I 'gin to feel that I had best have fled Into the wilderness with Mordecai And found a safer home. Abram's God Direct!
Servants and Captain enter. Esther turns and sees them. Captain. What orders hast thou, lord?
Ahasuerits.
Lead thou
Into the camp until the storm abates, Then fall upon the tribe of Israelites That scar the vales about Jerusalem With camps and cities. Bring their stores of grain And all their vast possessions to enrich Ahasuerus' :flowing wealth. Put to the sword All of arm-bearing sex-all but the servants, Whom lead to Shusan, captive-and their maids, And all their matrons shall be brought Unto the royal palace. Nor let the soldiers Use aught of force upon them, else than thi1 But tarry not-Come 'way.
Ahasuems goes out with Captain and Servant. Esther titrns and sees them leaving. She agavn looks oitt of the window.
Esther.
What warlike horde
Is that which girds the . castle . as a chain Of glittering humans? Their bright helmets flash. The thundering fire of the h eavens leaps From sword to sword, the monsoon's wind Beats hard upon them as a catapult,
RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.
And st ealing thru th eir fl ooded armor, moans In sadder strains than lepers in their dens ; 319
'l'h ey s carce can · plougn th eir way thru mud and rain;
Still driven back, defying flames of fire
That shoot from out the clouds of somber hue As serpents' tongues-and ever staggering on As waves steal o 'e•r tht shrouded misty sea
Ahasuerus re-enters.
They plod their way towards the palace. Now They halt--
She sees Ahasuerus. Her gaze m ee ts his. He frowns. Esth rfr comes forward and kneels before him; clasping his knees. She looks up to him, her loose black hair flowing down her back and trailing on the floor.
Esther, ( excitedly).
My lord, list thou to Esthe1:: but this once ; Who is as free from sin as her own doves. Come thou with Haman to a feast of wine
That in my banquet-hall I have prepared For thee this day. Then, if thou seest fit, Spare not a hair of her unworthy h ead. Yet, grant me but this one request.
Ahasuerns pitsh es Esther away from him 1·oughly.
Ahasu erus.
Thou strumP.e t!
H e walks sw i ftly acros s th e court and call s i n a d eathly, holl ow ton e :
Harbonah !
Then coming back towards Esther he reaches wildly for hfes scepter. Between the peals of thunder, the clank of armor and the sound of troops marching are heard outside, as falls the
CURTAIN,
SCENE FIVE.
The same d,ay. Haman's apartments in the royal palace. Sev- • eral of his friends are discovered with Zeresh, his wife. Musicians and dancers. Music starts up, and Haman, attired vn riding habit, enters.
Harnan.
Come, friends, drink to the music of the harps, Drink to the praise of great Ahasuerus, Drink to the beauty of his black-eyed queen, Drink till the fountains of the deep run dry, Spare not the glory of the vine, but drink.
They all drink.
Come, dancers, with your listless feet, make ring
The marble floors of the palace hall.
Several dances begin. Then Haman motions silence.
Now, Sigra, give us all a lively song.
RICHMOND OOLLEGFJ MESSENGER.
Sigra sings.
Song,.
The Hebrews vanish, Their arms go flyfng 'Fore the rattling charges Of the Persian army; The salt sea eats them, The desert swallows Their swords and armor; And wildly flying, The stones go grimly From Persian slingers, And eat the flesh off The Hebrew warmen.
And sadly their war steeds Go neig4ing and champing Their bits, while their riders Lie bleeding and dying; And slowly they gather Around their dead masters, Awaiting their mounting To ride the~ to battle; No more will their riders E'er ride them to battle, As long as the Persians Deal death to the Hebrews.
Haman.
Stop, fool, thou hast but little tune to that, And less meaning-Hie thee to thy rest-
Sigra goes out.
But listen, friends, how Shusan's king
Doth grant to Haman' liberties that none
Have e'er before received. Lo, be bath made Me greatest of bis mighty lords, and set Me high above the servants of his house, And e'en before the princes of the earth, Look-he hath honored with his signet ring
E'en Haman, who but little while ago, ·wa~ only chamberlain. And, aye, b 6sides,
He causeth me to wear such purple robes
As none but he hath ever worn before ; And riches greater than the corals of the sea, Or flowers of the wilderness ; more precious Than the boasted angel-kneaded manna That fell like spirits from the sacred skies, Whereon the fathers of that hated tribe ' Tis said, refreshed their desert-parched frames; Such riches hath Ahasuerus given To me, his trusted and most honored friend ; Moreover, not a man did ·Esther ask Unto her banquet with the king to-day, But me, his trusted and most honored friend. Ha! list again, to-morrow, mark ye, friends, Am I again invited to the feast And none other but Ahasuerus goesy et, do these honors comfort me but small, As long as that Jew, Mordecai, awaits, Outside the palace gate, and bows not down, To honor me as I am passing by.
Z eresh.
My lord, we urge a gallows be made So that its summit kiss the low-blown clouds; To-morrow, when thou go est to the king R en ew thy suit that Mord ecai may hang Thereon , th en enter thou unto th e feast Full-hearted with thy m erry che er , and thus R eleas e thys elf from th ese disturbanc es.
A Fri end.
Our thoughts were br eathed into her very soul And issu ed from: h er lips. Do thou as she Hath bid.
RICHMOND COLLEGE MES -SENGER. 323
Haman. .
I pray ye, leave me now alone.
All but Haman go out.
Ha! let me think-so shall it be-and I Thus rid myself of Mordecai, and so Be free from danger of his truthful lips. He stands a hindrance to my further rise ; And, too, methinks the queen delights in me. Our gentle gods of bronze are faithful e'er To those they love, and I, their favored one, It seems, am trebly blest-~self the next Unto the king; my enemy soon dead; And then, mayhap, fair Esther will be mine.
CURTAIN.
(To be concluded in next issue.)
Korean Folklore.
BY MISS H. B. RUNYON.
SOMEONE has s·aid that '' folklore is the back attic to which is relegated all that cannot tak& its place in the prim order of the modern scientific drawing room.'' Certainly the '' badk attic'' of Korean folklore is filled with a very miscellaneous collection. There are Confucian talcs, Buddhist tales, tales of imps and demons, nature stories, legendary and mythical stories, and many, many others that can hardly be classified.
Confuciani&m, as a system of morals deciding the questions of this life beginning with our birth and ending with our death, takes up every Pihase and aspect of human life, and lays down
rules for conduct. This is evidently done largely by allegory, for we find in Korea, as in China, a mass of stories illustrating the lines of conduct to be followed undt:r a great variety of circumstances. Korean folklore has piled examwe upon example, showing how a child, a youth, or a grown person, shouJ.d act up.der a great variety of circumstances. It abounds in stories of good littlt' boys and girls who never steal bird's nests, nor play '' for keeps,'' nor tear their clothes, nor strike back, no.r tie tin cans to dogs' tails. They are for the Koreans what we call in our own literature '' Sunday-school stories,'' and I undt:rstand that they are treated with the same contempt by healthy Korean boys and girls as goody-goody talk is treated by normal children all the world over.
Though there are very many of these stories, they seem to be built on surprisingly few models, and after we have read several, the first few lines will reveal the whole plot. There are numerous stories of the Lear type where the favorite children desert the parent, and the one who has been the drudge turns out pure gold. There is also a great volume of Cinderella stories. A favorite model seems to be that of a son who spends all his substance on his' father's funerat and becomes a beggar, but after a seritt·s of remarkable adventures becomes prime minister of the land. There is also the type of the designing woman who is found weeping at her husband's grave, but when she is asked why she is' so inconsolable, replies that sht--' is moistening the grave with her tears so that the grass will grow sooner; for only then can -she think of marrying again.
When we come to the Buddhist stories, we find a larger volume and a much wider range. Unlike the Confucian talfs the Buddhist are long and intricate, and approach much nearer to what we call genuine fiction than do the Confucian stories. Besides them the Confucian ones become mere anecdotes.
:Probably one reason why Buddhist tales are so common is because Buddhism was predominant for a thousand years before Confucianism made its app1earance in Korea. Anotht:r reason for their greater survival may be that Confucianism is a man's religion, giving a far lower religious status to woman
than to man. These stories are most oft in the mouths of the women as they tell them to their children, and they would be much the more apt to tell them those that belonged to the religion they themselves accepted (for it is a singular fact that in Korea almost every woman is a Confucianist and almost every man a Buddhist). But most likely the strongest reason for the survival of the Buddhist stories is the localizing tendency in them. They all happened at some particular place under some particular circumstances, like the stories of William Tell and King Arthur, but any Confucian tal& might have happened anywhere, at anytime. The plots of Buddhist stories are too long and too varied even to sketch in this paper, but monks and monastaries always play important parts. The idea of learning as connected with the monastaries also constantly finds ex,pression in Buddhist folklore.
The next portion o.f om subject is, I think, the most interesting of all, for it is the product of the innate and basic element of the Korean 's character. Before he was a Confucianist he was a Buddhist; before he was a Buddhist he was a nature worshipper, and a believer in imps and sprites. The spirits of m:ountain, stream, tree, rock, allid cave, play through Korean tales as the fairy goblin and genie do through the pages of the "Arabian Nights." There are many stories based on the belief that animals can acquire the power of transforming themselves into men. There was the boar that drank the wat er that had lain for twenty years in a human skull, and thus acquired the power to assume the human shape, but with this fatal limitation-that if a dog looked on him he must at once assume his natural form. There was a fox that turned into a woman an Oriental Circe, who worked destruction. The fox, the tiger, the wild boar, the serpent, and the toad, in Korea, are always bad; the rabbit, the frog, and the dragon, are invaria'b,ly good.
Many wonders are worked by the '' Tokgabis,'' the imps that delight in making trouble in the household. The Kor&-ans believe that these imps are the spirits of wicked men who have been refused admission into the places of the blessed, and have no choice but to haunt their former homes; or they may be
RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER,
I the sp,irits of good men who have died by violence, and who cannot stay in p,aradise because of their desire for revenge. Many stories are told of how these spirits league themselves with men, promising that the unholy compact will bring riches and power. The things a "Tokgabi" ruost dreads are silver, a tree that has been struck by lightning, and the colour red. Men may break a '' tokgabi'' spell by hanging about the house clothes dipped in red, or by carrying in their pockets splinters from a lightning-struck tree. The "Tokgabi'' seldom plays the l eading part in a Korean story, •but he flits in and out like some mischievous brownie.
Prominent among the folk-tales are those of the Uncle Remus tyPie.-"Why th~ Dog and Cat are Enemies," "Blow the Rabbit Fooled the Tortoise," and many others much like our own animal stories.
Korea" has legends without number. Most of them dealing with the origin and history of their race and dynasties are dry and ,uninteresting, but their bird legends and .their legendary explanation of astronomical and atmospherical facts are v ery pretty. The legend of the oriole, for instance, is that it embodies the soul of a beautiful, noble maiden who fell in love with a palace official named Kim. In consequence, she lost her life, but her soul could not die, and, unapp,eased, entered this bird. Now she haunts the palace always calling, "Kim pul lab go; Kim pul; Kim pob go sip so.'' (Tell Kim to come; call Kim; I want to ,see Kim.).)
Another tale Ettplaining the rainy season must have been borrowed from the Japanese, for I found the same story, with fairly few varfations, in a collection of Japanese folklore. This . story tells us of two heavenly lovers, two bright and shining stars, who displeased the King of Rea ven so that he banished them to such distant parts of heaven that to travE:rse the space betwern them and get back to their places for the annual inspection they could see each other only once a year, and thrn for but one short night. Of course, when they must tear thems elves away, it was only with many tears and lamentations. Their t ears were so profuse that all the earth beneath them b ecam e flood ed with rains. This meeting and parting, unless
there is some undue hindr,ance, occurs on the seventh day of the seventh month, and heralds the rainy season.
In their mythical stories the Koreans fall far short. Their imagination seems not to have been capable of the grand :flights of fancy that produced the · beautiful myths of the Greeks, nor sturdy and elemental enough to bring forth the stern heroes of the Norse. The Greek, the Roman, the Scandinavian mythologi&s are filled with gigantic, awful figures, while in the Korean they seem always less than man,-pigmy; sometimes craftier and stronger, but seldom worthier or better. The Korean tells us why sparrows hop on both fett instead of walking like a magpie, why flies rub their hands together when they alight, why the flounder has both eyes on the same side of his head, and such things, instead of giving us an Apollo, a Diana, a Mercury, or an Athene.
In the love-story, as we know it, Korean lore is entirely lacking, for love bet'YH:n men p.nd women is a thing never spoken of among respect'Q° Koreans. But there are many other tales that come under no definite head-tales of revenge in abundance, tales of a craving for justice, of a passion for fame, of avarice, an.d of pride, of the peculiar customs of the country, such as the stone fight and the tug of war, tales of relics now lost but whose stories still live, and tales of the introduction of various things into Korea. They have even a Korean version of Jonah and the Whale. But we' cannot now go more deeply into the mysteries of this Korean '' back attic.''
The Fourth Watch.
BY "FAIRY," '11.
All the world is cold and dreary, Sorrowful I'm weak and weary, W,orn with aching loneliness; For there is no loved one near me Who with tender strength can ·bear me Through this weary wilderness, This sighing lonely wilderness Of dark despair.
Oh, the visions dark that mutter, Threaten things I dare not utter, Dare not whisper to my soul! See them mocking, mocking, swaying Always round me, always saying Words to turn me fr.om my goal, From that wonp.rous shining goal, I ne'er will gain!
The ·Black Cloak.
BY VIRGINIUS C. FROST, '10.
CHAPTER III. Continued. , 'THANKS,''
I said, politely, and proceeded to relieve , him, as courteously as possible, of his sword and pis. tols. For awhile we did no more than stare at one another, and then he asked in a pleasant voice, "Well, sir, what are you going to do with me 1"
"Easily answered, Captain," I remarked. "Despite the fact that it is raining hard, and the ground u.p_der foot ·is wet, I must request the loan of your uniform.''
For a moment he regarded me with blank astonishment. My old revolver was not an inch from his nose.
'' Givt! you my uniform?'' he asked in amazement, '' and what would I do for clothing in this weather?"
"We are of the same size, Captain," I remarked, pleasantly, '' and we can effect a change in short order.''
''Me put on that --- gray?'' he asked in surprise; ''not for all the pistols in the country," he said with some spirit.
The cold steel of my revolver was touching his temple.
"I share the same sentiments in regard to your hlu:e; Cap. tain," I said, "but necessity comm.ands a disrespect of conventionalitits.''
An oath under his breath I took for acquiescence, and I -ordered him to dismount. H'e obeyed sullenly, and there and then the, Captain and I exchanged uniforms, and in another moment Captain Roger Wendell, Federal, at your serv,ice, was speeding toward the north.
All along the road the evidences of the travel of horses assured me that th-is was the route taken by Colonel Sibley, and I knew that he could not be many miles in advance• of me. I had changed ,uniforms with the Federal as a precaution against any :unforsb'en contingency that might arise in my; pursuit of the Confederate . troop for I did not doubt that the road was paroled by Federals who were watching the
route of om mbn. That these soldiers were members of this Captain Griffin's band I was certain, for the Captain, who now wore a uniform of gray, had intimated as much. The thoug,ht of the blue , uniform caused me to reach within the p.ocket, where I discovered a Placket of papers. I extracted thes~, and, piUlling Buck to a walk, began to peruse their contents.
A regular army pass and a dispatch constituted the packet. The pass was issued to Captain Grayson, and permitted him to pass any and all lines of the Uniqn Army. The dispatch was of some length, and, to my. su.rwise, was in the same handwriting as the dispatches which I had taken from the dead lieutenant. I opened it and read: '' Watch all along the way for a rider, a Rebel, wearJng a long black •cloak. It may be that there is a lady with him; if so, hold them both until I arrive. Let no harm come to her, but if he passes your post mrukt' every effort to run him down, as it is thou:ght at headquarters that he is playing a double role, and if the knowledge becomes known to him that McClellan has a copy of Lee's order of march, which I secured, we may yet fail to fall upon him alS scheduled to-morrow. If the rider is Lieutenant Gett, allow him to pass, as it thought here that he is following the Confederate troop, and ,if he does not report to-day, will do so at the proper time. Watch sharp for this Rebel in the black cloak. If this man gets through all chancts for an immeiliate attack upon Lee's rear must be abandoned, and all of us will be made to suffer."
For a moment I did not realize the value of the information that I had acquired. Then th& contemplated move of the Union Army was to fall unexpected upon Ill(Y great chief's rear guard and crush it. I had it in my power to thwart this movement if I cou:ld reach the Confederate lines and give the .information. The attack was scheduled for the next day. I rightly calculated that I was then sixty mile; from the great Lee, who had crossed into Pennsylvania. It was now nearly dusk, and if I was to warn my chieftain of this contemplated attack I must make all speed. I saw with clearer vision than I had possessed before the position of this Captain Griffin in
the Union Army. That he was a most dangerous scout and spy was certain. That he was playing a double role in the two armies I was assured.
In ardent earnestness I urged the good .horse to his best pace, and for mile after mile we sped up hill and down hill, through woods and over swollen creeks. I let him drink at every stream, and the noble beast toiled and labored as he had never done before in his life. My mind bt::came filled with an all-consuming thought-to reach the Omfederate lines as soon as possible and warn General Lee of his danger. I perceived with a pang that old Buck was steadily failing in his noble efforts to keep up his pace. The long runs during the day , with no rest or food, was telling on his powers. He staggered up the hills blindly, but with renewed swrit he sped down the' slopes as fast as horse could run. Darkness had now fallen over the country, and I gave him the reins, trusting to the nag's instinct to keep to the road. His pace had now became almost a trot, and I knew that it was ru,eless to urge him, for I knew him too well to doubt that he would not do his best for me. I let him rest at the bottom of every hill and talked to him, affectionately stroking his dripping mane. In reply he would whinny softly, which I knew full well meant that if the' Devil were on the best that he could bring from his sulphur home, he would give him more than his due.
For hour after hour we splashed through the mud and torrents on the lonely road. The darkness was almost imp6netrable. The rain fell unceasingly, and I was dripping wet, while the low-hanging boughs of trees alqng the highway had cut my face cr:u:elly. But I did not think of my own comfort; my thoughts were only of the danger of Uee's noble army, and of how· I might yet save them from being crushed.
On and on we rode, the good horse now and then breaking into a gallop, and then settling into his steady fo:xi trot. I rightly guessed that it was past midnight, and in a few hours day would dawn. We had gone some forty miles since dusk, as near as I could ascertain. We had climbed a long hill, and had proceeded for some distance down a level stretch of the
highway, when suddenly Buck ceased his trot., and began to step lightly and slowly. It was ever a trait of his when there was something amiss, and we had gone but a few rods further when a sharp command to "halt" rang out clear on the night air. I could not see the speaker, but I could discern that the voice had com6' from the left of the road. I drew rein instantly, but did not speak, and presently there came the command to advance. I did not move, :rod presently I heard the metallic cock of the sentry's carbine. I flatt0ned out upon the horse's back and awaited, my heart beating wildly, for the sound of his rifle. It ca~e soon enough, but the bullet missed its mark, and I heard it whizz over my head. Buck sprang forward, but I jerked him; around, and wesently he was splashing up a road that led to the left.
Instantly a dozen or more reports of pistols and carbines rang out, but the bullets went wide of their mark, and for some distance we sped up the highway that led I knew not where. Nor did I care so fong as it led away from the linbs through which I had just broken, and gave me some chance to get as far north as possible before the fast conung day. For a coUIJ)le of hours we fol~owed along the road, and thb· first gray shafts of the dawn began to pierce the blackness through which I had ridden all night. The horse had now drop~ed into a walk, which I knew was the best pace the nobh; animal was able to make.
The morning came at last and with it the sun. Where we were I was not able to say, but certain it was that we had run the lines of one of the armies. For a long while we rode, and the sun was fast dispelling the m,ists that rung likP- gray robes over the fields and woods. Up hill and down hill we toiled, and presently we entered a deep ravine and 1cmerged upon a level that looked down into a valley far below. There was a river on the right and a town nestled along its banks, and on the left of the village great rows of white tents shone in the sunlight and over them, flying in the morning bree7-e, was a Confederate flag! .
It was ,in a gallop that we passed groups of Confederates clustered about fires and approached a large house that was
situated in the center of the town. Over it flew the stars' and bars of our flag, and group,s of soldiers were gathered or.. the spacious verandah. A sentry paced ha.ck and forth with regular tread across the porch, and as I rode up and dismonnt1.;d I .was instantly observed by all . .Indeed, I was a sight wortl: seeing. I was covered with mud from head to foot, my hat was gone, and the long black cloak had fallen -i>rom one shoulder, disclosing the blue uniform of the Northern Captain. As I strode up to - the steps I tottered and would have fallen, but a man nearby caught my arm and held me.
'' What do you want, friend 1'' he asked, and the rest of the crowd gathered about me.
'' Is this General Lee's headquarters?'' I asked, . in as calm a voice as I was able.
"No, my man," the soldier responded, "but it is the h~adquarters of 'S'tonewall' Jackson."
'' Then 1€,t me see him immediately,'' I said, and leaned against the side of the house. I was weak and almost starved for I had not eaten or slept for two nights and a day, and it was as much as I could do to keep from falling to the floor. After all, there was no better man to whom I could trust the knowledge of my discovery than the great Jackson, and if I could but see him he could join Lee at the opportune time.
The man who had held me by the arm returned from the interior of the house with a peculiar expression on his countenance.
, ' 'You can't see him, friend,'' he said, slowly.
"My friends," I cried, "it is a matter of life and death. For God's sake carry me tQ him before it is too late.''
"I don't dare go back in there, friend," the soldier replied, at which all present laughed.
But I was not to be disappointed or denied without an effort. I had it in my power to s~ve the army of Lee before it was too late, so brushing past the men gathered about us, I entered the hallway. A. sentry standing before a doorway brought me to a halt, and I asked him to allow me to see the General.
"Gan 't see 'm. Busy," was the curt reply, as he turned on his ·heel and walked to the end of his beat.
"But I must see him," I pleaded, "it is a matter of the greatest importance.''
''Can't see him,'' came in monosyllabic grunts.
But my m~d was made UPI and I approached the door. The sentry stepped before me. The- crowd of men had gathered at the door and a few stood somewhat within the hall.
"You: do n 't git in there, frien , " he said t:mphatically, but before he could move I had grappled him around the waist and with a strength born of desperation, sent him reeling headlong against the other side of the hall. Before he could arise to his feet I had the crowd at the door covered.
"Stand back," I cried. "The first man to enter th-is hall goes to kingdom come.''
They retreatbd hastily enough to the verandah, and in another instant I had opened the door and was in the presence of the General. Seated around him were a half dozen offi(li(;rs of high rank.
. He turned and faced me, and in a voice that was hardly audible, asked: "What can I do for you, sir?"
My eyes never lt:ft his face.
''General,'' I said, closing the door behind me, '' I am in possession of information that General McClellan is going · to attaok the rear guard of General Lee's army to-day. I haV<a'-"
"How did you come by it, sir?" the General interrupted.
"I captured a Federal Captain, sir," I resumed, '' on the He,rndon road, and ft:aring arrest by the Union patrol of that highway, I forced him to exchange uniforms with me. The . dispatches were in his coat. Here they are,'' and I handed him the Captain's papers.
He read them through and placed them upon a nearby table.
"To what brigade do you belong?" he asked suddenly.
"I am a Lieutenant, sir, in Stuart's cavalry," I replied.
"Were you a courier when you captured this Federal?"
'' I had been left to follow a capitured band of Federals, and when upon my return to camp Colonel ,Sibley, the officer in command, had gone.''
RIOH.VOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.
'' Why were you left?'' he asked suddenly, and then I told him the details of the fight at the old house and of th6' methods of the Federal 's capture; how I had been left to follow the rest of the troop to avoid suspicion upon the Northerners' part, and how I had been headed off by this Captain Griffin's, men.
The great General handed the papers to an officer who sat near him.
'' A clever scheme," the officer remarked, "and one that would work but for his own lies.''
I looked the officer, who was a Colonel, square in the eye;, and it was with difficulty that I sp,oke calmly.
"I pass over the fact that the Colon el has called me a liar, gentlemen," I said delib6rately and distinctly, "but I cannot pass over the fact that before another dawn McClellan will have fallen upon your commander and crushed his army. I do not ask you to take my word, General Jackson," I continued, "but I ask you for love of God and of your country, go to Le-e's aid before it is too late and McClellan has fallen upon him. Tur God's sake,'' I pleaded, '' go ! ''
Then the room became black, the objects whirled before my eyes, and suddenly my tired body relaxed its strained musclts. , and I seemed to drift peacefully away.
CHAPTER IV.
THE
CAPTURE AND THE END.
Antietam had been fought, and Lee had withdrawn across the Potomac into Virginia. For some six W<,eks the, army of the South had straggled back over the rough mountain roads, and we wer e yet in th e north ern part of the State. October had come and gone, and we had arrived within th e vicinity of Front Royal, in Warren County , wh en the first rumor of the Federal 's mov e came to us. All through the ranks the news was received with the gr eatest joy, for th e soldiers wer e tired of the long d elay sinc e th e last battle, and the ·old fighting-
spirit was asserting itself. Rumor had it that the objective point of the Union campaign was Richmond, and the Confederate Capital became the destination of the army. It was on · the day that the report came to us that I was summoned tlO appear ·before General Lee. .
It was about the middle of the day when I dismou~ted before the headquarters of my ehief, and was ushered into the little room where he sat. A small table, covered with maps and papers, was _ before him, and he held a quill in liis hand. It was no,t the first time that I had seen him, but in the instant that I stood in the doorway, I studied closely the features of the great soldier.
He was an cxtremely handsome man, tall and stately in bearing. His hair was almost white, and it waved and curled over a finely shape·d head. His mouth was large and frank, and his nose was slightly Roman in shape. He was perusing a p,aper, and I could not see his eyes, but the nerl instant he looked up and perceived me standing in the doorway, and I recognizing the chief attraction about the illustrious soldier. It was his eyes. They were a deep steel gray, and ;regarded me with a steadiness· that made me feel ill at ease, but the next rµoment I was conscious of a gentleness and kindliness in their depths that told only too well the secret of his wonderful personality.
I saluted, and he bowed courteously. He was the first to speak.
"You are Lieutenant Wendell, of Sltuart's Calvary?" he asked quietly:
"Yes, sir," I replied. He bade me enter and close the door, and when I had complied he spoke q.irectly.
"Liieutenant Wendell," he said slowly, "I have 'Sent for you to perform a special duty. You are possessed of information that it is necessary to have for its accomplishmtnt. Ynu have been to Chantilly. Are you acquainted with the roads in the vicinity of that village?''
'' I am, sir,'' I responded.
"Will you inform me ho.w you obtained the black cloak which you now wear?''
The query was so direct and unlooked for, that for the moment I could not answer, but my eyes n1::ver left his for an instant, and there and then I told how I came by th e, black cloak, only omitting those details which directly concerned the girl. When I had concluded he asked m6' searching questions about the events that led up to my informing General Jackson of the plans of the Union Arn1t'y, and I told in d etail th e incidents which had occurred; the fight at the inn, the capture· of th e Federal exp edition at the old house, th e exchange of uniforms with the Northern captain, the discovery o.f fo e dispatch es, the long ride, and my final arrival at Harper's F erry and General Jackson's headquarter$. When I had finished my r ecital, he regard !:id me clos ely.
'' W ou1d you recogniz e this Captain Griffin were you to see him again, ev en though without the black cloak?'' h e asked.
''Yes, sir,'' I replied.
He la.id down th& quill which he had h eld in his hand the whil e we were conversing, and drawin g his seat nearer the table , he looked steadily at me . I m et his scrutiny calmly.
"Lieutenant," he spoke slowly, "I have chosen you to p erform a dangerous duty, because I believe that I can trust you implicitly.''
'' Thank you, sir,'' I responded.
"You ar e to go to Chantilly immediately," he r esumed aft er a moment's pondering of a map on the table. "It is the junction of all roads leading to Washington. In the vicinity of this village ar e posted numerous Federals, who are constantly on expeditions moving along these roads. You are to go there for the purpos e of capturing, d&ad or alive , this Captain Griffin . You are to b e accomp,anied by two brave and trustworthy officers, Captain Larkin and Sergeant Mulvaney, whom you know. What method of procedure is adopted is left to your judgment. Circumstances govern all actions. This Captain Griffin is th e most dangerous scout and spy in the Union Army, and you and your men are to capture him dead or alive. By playing a double role, he gained the information of our line of march into the North, but seeing that he was b eing suspected of spying, he left our service. The only information
338 RIOHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.
that I can give you of him is that he rides adways at night and always in the black cloak. I believe, too, that he is serving under an assumed name, though he is in direct communication with the commanders of the Federal forces.
'' As to where you. shall lodge, I beliE-ve that it is safe for you and your men at the old hotel, but keep out of sight as much as !'Ossible. This man," and he handed me a letter, "is a farmer in the neighborhood, and is a sympathizer with thE-' South. It would be well for you to secure stables for your mounts at his home. I believe .that this amount of money," and he delivered to me a wall6t of considerable size, '' will be sufficient to defray your expenses. Now, Lieutenant, if you capture this man, you are to hand him over to Colonel Sibley at Manassas. You are to report to him all valuable information regarding the movements of the Union Army, but your chief duty is to run down and capture this man Griffiln. If you and your men are captured as spies, I shall be powerless to save you. There would b(l· small chance to exchange, were you to be caught as scouts. Leave immediately sir, and may success attend you.''
When he had concluded, he handed me a pa;cket, and at a courteous wave of his hand I saluted and left the room.
(To be Concluded.)
Colonial Life in Thackeray's "The Virginians."
A.O. LYNCH.
There is a great deal said about the life ~f the Colonists in '' The Virginians,'' revealed largely through letters. But these letters are by no means full in details. Th6y are hints at the conditions rather than descriptions-indications and outlines chiefly. Thackeray states in the first chapter of the novel that he has filled in the vacancies in these letters; has studied minutely documents r6lating to Colonial life; has drawn figures as he fancied th ey were; set down conversations· as he thought he
might have heard them; and has endeavored to revivify the bygonr times and people. When we read the novel we feel that he has to some extent, succeeded in portraying Colonial life.
Thackeray rep;resents Virginia as being a country largely of forest and thinly settled. What portion of land there was in cultivation was divided into large plantations, an<! the gentry dwelt on these lands after a fashion almost patriarchal. Every family of propert and standing possessed some slaves and were pervaded with the feudal feeling of the owners of the great landed estates.
The society of the Colonies was by no means homogeneous. Those who composed it were, for the most part, people of high rank, many bearing titles as lords, ladies, etc. They were mostly of aristocratic families; many of them had held offices• of high position while in their mother land. In addition to this higher type of English society that came over here, America was also made a refuge for England's sinners. Besides convicts and assigned servants who were transported to the Colonies, there were also sent over "scapegraces and younger sons," for whom dissipation, despair and bailiffs made th e old country uninhabitable.
Slaves were brought over to America in 1619, and :were in · abundance in Virginia at this time of which Thackeray is writing, but he says that the question of sla,very was not born at this time. That is, the slaves were not treated harshly, as they were in the nineternth century, and the planters regarded them as servants-the term slave _ was rarely used. At that time to be the proprietor of black servants shocked the feelings of no Virginia gentleman, nor was the despotism exercised over the Negro race a savage one. There was a plenty of food for them, a,nd the poor black people were 1azy and not unhappy. They w er e not work ed as hard as the laborers of later y ears, and four or five blacks wer e required to do th e work of one white laborer in England, as the domestics in America were so numerous. The owners of the plantations kept a large number of servants to till their farms, and a private servant for each member of the household; so th e mansion and stables of th ese landed proprietors swarm ed with negroes. When not at work these lazy creatures
engaged in sports peculiar to their race, or sat drowsily in the sunshine in front of their quarters.
Thackeray described the climate of Virginia as e:x.ceedingly delightful; that all kinds of fruit and produce grew in that province, the staple· crop being corn and tobacco. The waters of the James, Potomac and ,Rappahannock rivers abounded in all sorts of fish and game. '' He and Harry had found many a match of cocks together, taken many a roe ll1. company, ,hauled in countless quantities of shad and salmon, slain wild geese and wild swans, pigeons: and plovers, and destroyed myriads of canvas-backed ducks.''
Almost nothing was manufactured in VJrginia outside of the shops on the estates. So it was necessa:ryto carry on trade with England to secure those things that were needed. Such things as wore desired were brought ·from London to the planter's wharf and exchanged for his tobacco and corn. Their estates extended along the rivers, and the planters built their own individual wharves. The ships took the tobacco o:ff ~hese wharves on the banks of the Potomac and James and carried it to London or Bristol, bringing back money, English goods and goods of home manufacture in return ·ror the only produce the Virginia gentry chose to cultivate.
The Colonists lived a very easy and happy life. There seem:ed to be no solicitude for tO:morrow. The plantation produced almost everything, and was a litle co1nmunity sufficient for itself. It was the simple life of the family, and not of the great world, and produced that intense attachment for the soil, which has become proverbial, which made a Virginian once say, "If I had to leave Virginia, I would not know where to go." Their means for traveling were very poor. Journeys were made on horseback or in an old stage-coach, usually followed by a train of servants. Men were deliberate in their work and pleasure. It was an age of wine-drinking and card-playing. They had other amusements, such as hor~e-racing, cock-fighting, wrestling, etc.
The hospitality of the province was unbounded. No stranger was ever sent away from their gates. The gentry received one another; every man's house was his neighbor's. "The idle
g~ntlefolk rode from one mansion to another, finding in each pretty much the same sport-welcome ~d rough plenty." They lived sumptuously as far as they were able. They raised a great deal of fruit and canned much of it. They also raised many hogs and cured their own meat. The good housewife used to send over presents of canned fruit, and the husband s would send meat, tobacco, etc., to thtir friends in England.
The Colonists of Virginia were communicants of the Church of England, and had to conform to it '' both in cannons and constitution as near as maybe." The religious manners and customs were practically the same as they were in England. The ministers spent more time playing cards and drinking wine than they did preparing their sermons, and repeated protests ,are made against them in the novel.
Thackeray gives us a ' very good account of Virginia and the Jife of the Colonists, and the conception we get from '' The Virginians" is largely the same as we would get from history.
To R. E. Lee.
H. B. JENNINGS, JR., '10.
To thee brave son of our beloved Southland,
Who didst in many a hardwon fight reveal
To hostile foe that thou couldst wield with zeal
The sword when duty called to nobly stand.
Ea•ch soldkr too was true at thy command;
In truth no father could fo ~on appeal
As thou to soldier ;who was made to feel
The duty that each moment had in hand.
But nobler still than leading men to war
To conquer nations by mere force of strength,
Is shaping men to right a country's wrong.
'Nor wa,s there man in all the land who saw
A work to do just then as Lee at length
Took up which always showed his purpose strong .
The Messenger
JJnnth of £httnr.a
S. H. ELLY S ON , '10
J. F GULICK, '10
Phlloloirlan.
Phllolo&-lan.
DR. H. A. VAN LANDINGHAM,
J\aanrintr Ehttnr.a
Ma Sigma Rho,
R. A. Brock - - Exchanges
J . B . D'ewal . . Essays. F w. Jones - - Alumni Editor
S . A. CALDWELL, ' 11
T . W. CR OXTON, '11
Editor-In-Chief
Assistant Editor
Adv i sory Editor
Philo logia• •
R. L . Ancarrow Crackers & Cheese
C' L Stillwe ll - - - - - -Poems W. Beverly - - - - - - Stories Business Manager.
Phllolo&-lan .
Assistant Business Manager. Mu Siglfla Rho.
A Challenge :
In the co ll eg es of Vi rg i n i a t h en,: a r e y ou ng m en who se cle an , h ealthy ma nhood gives a sn ap to w h a t ev er th ey und ert a k e. Th eir mind s ar e n ot p;r ejudi ce d; the y s ee things in th eir hon est light. Thi s is tru e a lso of th e coll ege s in the North , so m e f ew of whom ev en surpa ss th e coll eges of our own St a t e•in th e p a rti cul a r a bout to b e nam ed. It so happ ens that in th e b es t of th eS'e institutions, eve n in th e mo st fa shionabl e, on e of th e hi g h es t offi ce s, and sometimes th e high est, giv en to a stud ent is consid er ed to b e th e Pr esid ent of the Y. M. C. A.except in Ric hmond Coll ege . The Y. M. C. A. of Ri chmond Coll e g e i s th e, l eas t support ed a nd th er efor e th e l east eff't ctiv e of
the college Y. M. C. A's. in Virginia and possibly in the North. Now, no one can accuse the student.s in these other colleges of being more religious or "prissy" if you choose to call it so, than we ''Spiders.'' We all claim to be ordinary, sane, healthy human beings, neither angGls nor devils, neither rigid Buritans nor libertines. Yet the fact remains that in .all the other colleges in Virginia and the North just such men find it the most natural of things to be a member of the' Y. M. C. A. at college; which all goes to show that in our college there is a foolish and unmanly prejudice against the Y. M. C. A. ; that in the other colleges not only ministerial students, but aH kinds of men consider it a privilege to be engaged in such a noble wo.rk as the Y. M. C. A. is doing. "Spiders" are not accustomed to be at the bottom. Look, Spid(,rs ! Here is a challenge from the colleges of Virginia ! Virginians are famous for their love for good deeds and noble causes. Look, Virginians ! Here is a challenge from the North !
7HE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF S. H. ELLYSON, Editor.
I do hereby grant-, quitclaim and _ release unto my worthy successor, with all the htreditaments and appurtenances belonging and pertaining thereto : One bundle of waste basket material, one bundle of stationery with my n ame on it, one bundle of care, one business manag6r, one assistant business manager, one advisory editor, six associate editors, one Co-ed., one Athletic editor, one printer minus a calendar, one blessing and one dilapidated bay tree in great need of a little common sense water.
And I do convey unto the faithful contributors to these columns; one gratitude, one praise and one thanks.
And I do further convey unto my constituency: One apology, one thanks and one farewell.
This eonveyance made on this first day of March, nineteen hUJJ.dred and ten (1910). Signed and Sealed by S. H. ELLYSON, Editor. (Seal.)
QJ:umpus Nntes
R. C. ANCARROW, Editor.
'' OUT IN THE CAMPUS WHERE THE PUNK WEEDS GROW.''
DURING the past month we enjoyed the second of the series of Faculty Receptions. Prof. and Mrs. Metcalf were the host and hostess upon this occasion and the Co-Eds. were there in their best.
The- Mu Sigma Rho and the Philologian Literary Societies both held receptions upon the same night, Ftbruary 11th. The Philologians were out for the maidens fair, but the Mu Sigma Rho succeeded in capturing the President and many others. of the Faculty. That shows head-work. But the- man that choked the gas meter upon that occasion didn't show any.
Then the Chi-Epsilon Society came back at us with an af- . fair of some class. Never did those Philologian Halls ring with such eloquence, and there was a minimum; amount of stage-fright. We were disappointed though because we did not hear from the fair suffragettes. I believe they could have won quite a few converts upon this occasion.
And last but not least the Anti-Suffragettes pulled off a little stunt on the afternoon of the 16th. But we haven't yet b ee n able to find out what was doing there. See next issue for details.
Our Indoor Track Meet at the Ho:rse Show Building on the V night of the 12th was a howling success. Th e dirt track prov bd a success and by hext year wilt be .in A 1 condition. 'rhou gh w e did not succeed in carrying off many points in such fas t compiany, we had no trouble at all in walking away from Randolph-Macon and William and Mary in the Championship Relay.
In English ''A,'' Prof. Van L. was lecturing on correct punctuation and as an illustrati on h e us ed the following example:
Prof. Harry Coxe, LL. B., M . A., Ph. D. , Esq.
Some open discussion in the class ensued as to the requirements for these diff'erent degrees, when Mr. L. broke in with, "Prof., what do you have to do to get Esq. written after your name?''
Echots from English B.-Daily 1 : 10 P. M.
Mr. X.-"Dr ., if I mlay be allowed to digress just a bit at this point, will you be so kind as to enlighten me on this point which I could not fully comprehend in my preparation?''
Choking "Stdod" on front seat throws open the window.
Dilapidated Voice from the rear, '' Choke him don't let him suffbr!''
"Whiskers" was explaining to the Junior Math. Class how ap edi ently one could draw a circle on the black board with a handkerchief.
A din-picker enquires: "Prof., what can one do if he hasn't a handkerchief?"
"Whiskers," with a pb~verted .sense of humor, "Use your neck-tie.''
A wee voice from the Gallery.-"Use your sock."
"Uncle Billy's Down and Out Cllub-Re,cent Initiates'-.''Jack" Frost, Gwathmey and Sadler.
~t~lrtir ilrpartmrut
J.
B. HILL, Editor.
Throughout the rough winter days -of bleak January some of the college ~s loyal men, who wanted to bring honor to their college as weU as to themselves, were .regular each day at practice and in training on the track for the meets which were to come off in February and March. Up to the, present time two of these meets have been 4eld, and .a,t each meet we were well rep.resented.
The first of these was held in Washington on February the fifth. We entered only two E;Vents and .in one of these we were able to win a place though the competition W'a.s great . This position was won by W. B. Sydnor in the mile race. There were some forty or fifty contestants in this race, rep,resenting the University of Va., Johns Hopkins, and many other large colleges, yet he was able to pllish first and second places close and win the third place.
In the other event, the relay with George Washington, we lost out by a close margin. Our men did not appear in good shape in this event, and we believe that if it could be done over again we would come out victorious, rather than being defeated.
For February 12th, manager F. G. Liouthan had arranged an indoor track meet to be held in the Horse Show Building of this city. At this meet there were twenty-nine universitios, colleges, academies, schools, and clubs represented. This was the second meet given by Richmond College and, as the first ,one, it was a success.
The track team from the University of Virginia easily won first honors,• by scoring the largest number of points, while the Baltimore City College, whose reprosentatives excelled in every event in which they participated, were easy winners of the cup in the scholastic classes.
Of the nearly there hundred entries, the main feature of the night was the mile run, which was won by Stanton 0£ the University of Virginia. He was led by Elpih.instone, of the Cross Country Club, of Baltimore, until he had gotten within thirty ya.rds of the finishing point when Stanton passed him and won the race. This caused as much applause as any other ovent of the evening with the possible exception of the pole va.ult, which was won by Larry Martin, of Virginia. We were .represrnted in this race by W. B. Sydnor and L. Lankford, Jr., but were not as successful as in the Washington Meet. We did not get as good treatment in this raice as we should have for our man was pushed off once or twice by one of the leaders when he attempted to pass him, thus throwing him back some and besides weakening him.
The last event was especially interesting to the Richmond College boys, who were there in full force, because we were competing with our old rivals in football and. baseball, Randolph-Macon and William and Mary. I quote a paragraph from the Times-Dispatch: 'The championship mile relay race, between Randolph-Macon, Richmond College and William and Mary, was the last of the twenty-six events, but the crowd' did not desert, and remained until the last athlete had done his part. Richmond College outclassed her rivals, demonstrating an ability which causes tra:ck meet followers to wonder that the team should not have done better for itself in its competition with George Washington a week before.''
iExrquugr irpurtmrut
C. L. STILLWELL, Editor.
TH E Davidson Coll ~ge Magazine for January-February is a full number and contains much good reading matt er . . The story and poem departments are not <oqual to the essays. There are no poems that are superior to those of a high school magazine, and the stories all show little knowledge of technique; while they interest us they do not please. '' Logtdwn'' is hardly a story. .The ..author was unfortunate in his choice of titles; there is an awkward introduction in which he vouches for the reliability of the friend who told the story to him as an actual incident; and after the climax, there is an equally awkward conclusion. The latter defect might have been evaded by a more successful handling of the climax. The plot is entirely too bare for a story; there is no characterization, and very little atmosphere. But the a"4thor succeeds admirably in keeping up intE"rest, and with a plot of more consequence would have created a really excellent piece of work. '' Majorie 's Choice,'' with the exception of some bad paragraphing, unnatural, uninteresting plot, and considerable sentimentality, is a fairly good story. '' The Abolishing of Time'' is original in its idea, and holds th!') reader's attention. The humor, however, is forced and the unnaturalness of the whole story grates upon the reader. ''Kenyon's Canon'' was read with vast delight until the last page . was reached. We hoped for some surprise at the end or some thread to complete, a plot, and we were disappointed. "Character :Sketch: Napoleon" is ·too long for the size of the magazine, and entirely too big a subject for a short article.
. The author chose a subject that has worn out many tons of ink and pen points. We, would suggest that college essays be written on subjects about which little is known by the reading public-certainly not as much as is known of N apcileon. Yet, even though the author is rather inclined to be extravagant in his prais.e of Napoleon, it is a good pie,ce of work, and sums up very well the versatility of the man. "The Life and Death of Dr. Elisha Mitchell" is the kind of subject we like to find in our exchanges. The author has given UIS interesting knowledge in good language. "Voltaire" is passable, but there is little dep:th to the essay, and it is incomplete. '' The Parting of the Ways:" would be very much at home hung over an evangelist's pulpit, but there is little room for such articles in a college magazine. The author gives us a sermon of forty- , eight lines of no poetic value on Matthew 7 : 13, 14.
"The Southern Collegian" for January is an interesting magazine from cover to cover. The poem department is especially good. '' The Winds Blow Gold'' is a love poem of no depth but with a delicate 'Strain of mel:ancholy, which makes amends for the · subject matter. • "The Highlands" shows a sympathy for nature that we do not often find in college poetry. It is a thoroughly enjoyl'l,ble poem. ''When the Year is Cold" deserves first place in the Collegian. The form and meter are very good and the thought is excellent, and clothed in poetic language. We quote.
'' Gone is the gold from the field and the hill, Gone is the purple and red from the oak ; The woodland is sere and the winds are chill, The red birds down in the thickets are still, And the spirit of summer song is broke .
But little care I if the hard sleet flies, Or the snow and the whids are cold; With the dead brown fields and the hard gray skies, When a warm smile lights thy soft grey eyes With a love that never grows: old, my dear, With a love that never grows old.''
'' The Return of Gideon'' is the best story-a tragedy. The author , handles his plot remar!kably well, and especially the climax. '' The Grune'' is weak in plot and the characters are unreal and talk unnaturally. '' The Punition of Anthony'' lacks a great deal to make it literature. The plot is too absurd to be humorous; the story of woman being frightened by a mouse is almost as old as woman. It would have been much more interesting had the .leading . characters been mice, and one of them had been frightened to death by a woman. '' ShouJd Mathematics be R<:,quired for the B. A. Degree?'' is a logical, lively argumentation. The author takes the negative, and never fails to produce proof of his statements. It is one of the best essays we have read in the exchanges. We congratulate the -staff on the general appearance and make-up of the Collegian.
In addition to our regular exchanges, we ackno.weldge receipt of "The Elevator," "The Limestone Star" and the "Alleghany Literary Monthly.''
.Alumni lepnrtment
i'. W. JONES, Editor
'' By their fruits· ye shall know them. ''
The public duty of educated men has been the theme of a number of the masterpieces of our modern oratory. It has aihout come now to be th e general beli ef that th e coll ege man should be the leader in the numerous phases of life in our republic. It will, therefore, be interesting, perhaps, to s€:e how many alumni of Richmond College are among th e lawmakers now gathered in this city. There are twelve in all, six in each body.
In the Senat e we have:
E. E. Holland, B. T. Gunter, E. C. Folkes , G. T'. Fletcher, 1S. Gayle, J. R. Tucker.
In the House of Delegates:
T. H. Edwards, W. D. Evans, P. M. McRae, S. M. Sh eppard, H. W. Stephenson, C. W. Throckmorton.
CHESAPEAKE & OHIO RAILWAY
_
Best Line to Lynchburg, Norfolk and the Eastern Shore of Virginia
Five Fast Vestibule Trains to all the West
JNO. D. POTTS, G. P. A. RICHMOND, VA.
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINA
Charlottesville, Virginia.
E. A. ALDERMAN, LL. D., President.
The College-In this department , four-year courses can be selected leading to the degrees of Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Science.
The Department of Graduate Studies-In this department an oppor• tunity i's given Bachelors of Art and Bachelors of Science for specializing in a ny dir e ction they may choose. Degrees offered are Master of Art s , Master of Science and Doctor of Philosophy.
The Department of Medicine-Inthis department a four-year course is given, leading to the degree of Doctor of Medicine.
The Department of Engineering-In this department four-year courses ar e given , l e ading to the degrees of 1 inlng Engineer., Civil Engineer, Electrical Engineer, Mechanical Engin eer and Chemical Engineer.
The Department of Law.-In this d epartm ent a three-year course is given leading to the degree of Bachelor of Law.
Tuition in Academic Departments free to Virginians. Loan Funds available. All other expenses reduced to a minimum. Send for catalogue .
