He had brought a letter from home, from my
father, and some Confederate old issue bonds, which I was mighty glad
to get, and also a letter from "the gal I left behind me," enclosing a
rosebud and two apple blossoms, resting on an arbor vita leaf, and this
on a little piece of white paper, and on this was written a motto (which
I will have to tell for the young folks), "Receive me, such as I am;
would that I were of more use for your sake. Jennie." Now, that was
the bouquet part. I would not like to tell you what was in that letter,
but I read that letter over five hundred times, and remember it today.
I think I can repeat the poetry _verbatim et literatim_, and will do so,
gentle reader, if you don't laugh at me. I'm married now, and only
write from memory, and never in my life have I read it in book or paper,
and only in that letter--
"I love you, O, how dearly,
Words too faintly but express;
This heart beats too sincerely,
E'er in life to love you less;
No, my fancy never ranges,
Hopes like mine, can never soar;
If the love I cherish, changes,
'Twill only be to love you more."
Now, fair and gentle reader, this was the poetry, and you see for
yourself that there was no "shenanigan" in that letter; and if a fellow
"went back" on that sort of a letter, he would strike his "mammy.
Pages:
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254