The Confederate Soldier and Ten Years in South America (Classic Reprint)
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| Partner: | buecher.de |
| Hersteller: | Forgotten Books (Polk, J. M.) |
| Stand: | 2015-08-04 03:50:33 |
Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt from The Confederate Soldier and Ten Years in South America To the Reader: By way of introduction, and before entering upon the subject of our title page, I will try to give you some idea of pioneer days. For in this work I shall undertake to give you little variety as well as some facts of history and general information. I was born in Greece county, Missouri, five miles east of Springfield, on the 7th of October, 1838. My father was a native Maury county, Tennessee, born three miles from Columbia, about the year 1810. His father was born in Mecklenburg county, North Carolina, nine miles from Charlotte Courthouse, September 10, 1776. About the year 1842 or 1843 my father moved to Lawrence county, Missouri, and settled on or near the head of Honey creek, twelve miles south of Mount Vernon. Now, at that early date, a boy 5 or 6 years old, in a new country like this, must do something to attract notice. Too small to do any kind of work, my father, of course, paid little attention to me; I spent most of my time in the woods with my dogs, which I trained to track anybody or anything I put them after. Father had an old Irishman named Hagerty at work on the place, and he had to walk two miles to his home every evening. I thought it would be fine sport to put my dogs on his trail and make him take a tree. The plan was no sooner thought of than it was tried. The second time I tried it my father heard of it and I received a first-class tanning. My next venture turned out nearly as bad. While in the woods one day, I found two old oxen my father had turned out. I drove them down to the creek where there was a hornets´ nest as large as a cow´s head, hanging to a hazelnut bush not more than two feet from the ground. One of the oxen brushed against it, knocking it to the ground and then stepping on it. The enraged hornets covered the oxen. They curled their tails and ran up the hill toward the field. In their frenzy they knocked down four or five panels of fence, and let the stock in the field. So I received a first-class tanning for that. The road leading from our house across the creek to the field passed between a lake and a graveyard. The negroes always had some ghost story to tell when they passed the graveyard at night. To put up a job on them another boy and myself, I think it was George Butler, wrapped a sheet around a stump in the graveyard and concealed ourselves near by. The negroes came along talking and singing that night and were within five or six steps of the ghost before their attention was attracted to it. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
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