Reminiscences in the Early Sixties
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| Partner: | buecher.de |
| Hersteller: | Forgotten Books (Houck, E. C.) |
| Stand: | 2015-08-04 03:50:33 |
Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt from Reminiscences in the Early Sixties: From the Lives of Three Brothers Having no recollection of ever seeing my father, when I became old enough to be of some service on the farm, to run errands, help my mother and sisters, or pick apples for cider making, of which many barrels were made every year, my uncle, Joseph L. Houck, was manager of the "Oakdale Farm," in Trough Creek Valley, where we were all born. I have a distinct recollection of what happened when I refused to pick apples. Tender twigs were not quite so thick on the trees as apples were under them; nevertheless, when Uncle was on parade, in his bright uniform as an officer in the local militia, he was every inch a hero to me. The spirit of adventure dominated the early manhood of my mother´s brothers. Thus the lure of the discovery of gold in the Fraser River country caused Uncle to abandon farm life and, like many others, join an overland party to reach that far-away Eldorado. They would all have perished in crossing the Canadian Rockies had not a friendly band of Indians supplied them with food. Uncle B. F. Houck was really the only father I ever knew. He took me with him to Maryland. During 1863 I was the "little laddie" in his home. The sight of General Lee´s army marching through Maryland to Pennsylvania and an all-day´s engagement in their retreat, between South Mountain and the Potomac River, after the Battle of Gettysburg, with our house between the skirmish lines, so thrilled my boyish mind that the picture is more vivid in my recollection today than had it happened last year. I heard the canon boom and the shells´ shrill whistle through the air, the sharp crack of the infantry rifle, even the Confederate officer´s command, "Skirmishers to the right!" in a field adjoining our house. During the battle that hot July day, my uncle sat on the upper porch reading "Josephus," unafraid and seemingly wholly undisturbed. About sundown the Confederates fell back, and as we were crossing a field to a neighbors, a rifle bullet struck in the fence near my uncle. He simply drew his handkerchief from his pocket and waived it over his head and went on, while I gripped his hand in fear, thinking every whistling shell from the Federal battery was sure to hit me. One struck not far away, scooping out a lot of mother earth. That memorable summer was a wonderful experience for me. 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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