Colonel Carter of Cartersville | Page 6

of his mail bags at a' hour fixed by
himself. This became a great inconvenience to our citizens, who were
often late in finishin' their correspondence, and who had always found
our former postmaster willin' either to hold the bag over until the next
day, or to send it across to Drummondtown by a boy to catch a later
train.
"Well, suh, Colonel Talcott's mission to the post-office was to mail a
letter to his factor in Richmond, Virginia, on business of the utmost
importance to himself,--namely, the raisin' of a small loan upon his
share of the crop. Not the crop that was planted, suh, but the crop that
he expected to plant. "Colonel Talcott approached the hole, and with
that Chesterfieldian manner which has distinguished the Talcotts for
mo' than two centuries asked the postmaster for the loan of a three-cent
postage stamp.
"To his astonishment, suh, he was refused.
"Think of a Talcott in his own county town bein' refused a three-cent

postage stamp by a low-lived Yankee, who had never known a
gentleman in his life! The colonel's first impulse was to haul the
scoundrel through the hole and caarve him; but then he remembered
that he was a Talcott and could not demean himself, and drawin'
himself up again with that manner which was grace itself he requested
the loan of a three-cent postage stamp until he should communicate
with his factor in Richmond, Virginia; and again he was refused. Well,
suh, what was there left for a high-toned Southern gentleman to do?
Colonel Talcott drew his revolver and shot that Yankee scoundrel
through the heart, and killed him on the spot.
"And now, suh, comes the most remarkable part of this story. If it had
not been for Major Tom Yancey, Jedge Kerfoot, and myself there
would have been a lawsuit."
Fitz lay back in his chair and roared.
"And they did not hang the colonel?"
"Hang a Talcott! No, suh; we don't hang gentlemen down our way.
Jedge Kerfoot vehy properly charged the coroner's jury that it was a
matter of self-defense, and Colonel Talcott was not detained mo' than
haalf an hour."
The colonel stopped, unlocked a closet in the sideboard, and produced a
black bottle labeled in ink, "Old Cherry Bounce, 1848."
"You must excuse me, gentlemen, but the discussion of these topics has
quite unnerved me. Allow me to share with you a thimbleful." Fitz
drained his glass, cast his eyes upward, and said solemnly, "To the
repose of the postmaster's soul."
CHAPTER II
The Garden Spot of Virginia seeks an Outlet to the Sea
Chad was just entering the small gate which shut off the underground
passage when I arrived opposite the colonel's cozy quarters. I had come

to listen to the details of that booming enterprise with the epidemic
proclivities, the discussion of which had been cut short by the length of
time it had taken to kill the postmaster the night before.
It was quite evident that the colonel expected guests, for Chad was
groaning under a square wicker basket, containing, among other
luxuries and necessities, half a dozen bottles of claret, a segment of
cheese, and some heads of lettuce; the whole surmounted by a clean
leather-covered pass-book inscribed with the name and avenue number
of the confiding and accommodating grocer who supplied the colonel's
daily wants.
"De colonel an' Misser Fizpat'ic bofe waitin' for you, sah," said that
obsequious darky, preceding me through the dark passage. I followed,
mounted the old-fashioned wooden steps, and fell into the outstretched
arms of the colonel before I could touch the knocker.
[Illustration]
"Here he is, Fitz!" and the next instant I was sharing with that genial
gentleman the warmth of the colonel's fire.
"Now then, Chad," called out the colonel, "take this lettuce and give it a
dip in the snow for five minutes; and here, Chad, befo' you go hand me
that claret. Bless my soul! it is as cold as a dog's nose; Fitz, set it on the
mantel. And hurry down to that mutton, Chad. Never mind the basket.
Leave it where it is."
Chad chuckled out to me as he closed the door: "'Spec' I know mo'
'bout dat saddle den de colonel. It ain't a-burnin' none." And the colonel,
satisfied now that Chad's hand had reached the oven door below, made
a vigorous attack on the blazing logs with the tongs, and sent a flight of
sparks scurrying up the chimney.
There was always a glow and breeze and sparkle about the colonel's
fire that I found nowhere else. It partook to a certain extent of his
personality--open, bright, and with a great draft of enthusiasm always
rushing up a chimney of difficulties, buoyed up with the hope of the

broad clear of the heaven of