St Clair High School - Clairvoyant Yearbook (St Clair, MI)

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real war. and that lie did not want to buy the place but only wanted the use of it for a few days. He promised one hundred dollars, and the darky, after meditating and arguing, f inally appeared satisfied, and the deal was closed. II. Three weeks later, William Fox and his whole troupe arrived for the war picture. The first day Fox set aside for choosing rooms in the house for his interiors, ' ’ Jackson conducting him about. At the sight of the dining room Fox became enraptured; he explained to the darkey that it was just the place for his first scene, in which the master of the house had ridden from camp to eat breakfast with his family, and while at the table a servant rushed in screaming, The Yankees are coming. Then he told the negro of another scene where his girl. Jenny, while gathering wild flowers, learned the location of the enemy’s camp. “Ha! dat’s good,” grinned Jackson, scratching his curly head. “Then you see 1 get my name for the film,” continued Fox, “ ' Turned Tables for when the situation of the enemies, or Federate camp is learned, the Southern forces make a surprising attack on their camp, and the picture ends in fire and smoke.” “See that none of that thar ‘fire and smoke’ gets outside of yer pitcher,” remarked the darkey gravely. Then they climbed the broad old winding stairs and passed along the l all. At the farthest door the negro halted. “De general lies in thar, guess it won’t matter if you come in, he don’t neber notice nothin ' no how;” then Jackson cautiously opened the door and beckoned Fox to follow. The room was almost bare but for a four-posted bed, on which lay a ghastly white old man. He did not notice the two men but gazed intently toward the foot of the bed. Following his gaze, Fox suddenly perceived the object of the old man’s attention, — an old gray coat, trimmed with brass but- tons and medals, laid carefully over a chair. Beside it lay a gleaming sabre and a plumed hat, — waiting (thqy all seemed) for the old general to put on. “His?” Fox whispered. “De massa’s uniform,” answered the negro slowly, “whenever he rouses he asks for it.” “Guess I’ll borrow it, be just the thing for my picture,” remarked Fox. “No, sah! guess ya won’t,” came the fierce reply as the loyal negro placed himself between Fox and the uniform, “it ain’t gwine ta be used fer no pit- chers.” Fox hastily gave up that intention but as he turned he noticed something e l se , — a long stick with a Confederate banner wrapped about it. “What’s that?” he questioned quickly. “De Confederate flag,” answered the negro glumly. “The very thing I want,” beamed Fox, “I’ll ” “No, sah ! that flag has been furled eber since de day de massa furled it, and it will neber move, nor be unfurled till it goes to de grabe with im, ’ and again lackson grew furious. His manner annoyed box and after expressing his desire to return to “the field,” the negro stiffly showed him out. III. On the next morning the transformation of the place was complete. When the old servant came to the door he vaguely rubbed his eyes, almost thinking 25

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Through LoVe for Thee Remote from the rest of the world, nestled closely among the tall southern pines, which seemed to hum in a monotone the very dreariness of the place, stood the old Shirley mansion. A spacious veranda supported by gigantic- white pillars, graced its front. Broad steps formed the ascent to this veranda, and their unmarred whiteness was an evidence of the quiet life there. A path now weed-choked, and portraying no sign of travel whatever, lost itself in an attempt to reach the front gate. Now as the breeze stirred the pines they began to moan and sway ; with the same moaning noise and as if swept up the lane by the same breeze there appeared a huge, dark-colored touring car. As it reached the front gate it stopped abruptly and a young man alighted and drew the curtain behind him. For a moment he stood admiring the quiet scene before him, then proceeded toward the gate. It creaked on its rusty hinges as he opened it and faintly echoed after him as he sped up the weedy path toward the mansion. But he had scarcely reached the steps when the big door slowdy opened, and a negro servant appeared. “ A — er ’ }’ es sah,” he stammered as he gazed open mouthed at the young man, “what ' s ya name, please, wdiat ya want hea?” AI name sir, is illiam Fcpc; if you lived in the city you would be enjoying my films at a theatre, Fox films; and what I want here is— by the way, how is the old general?” 1 he darky had worn a puzzled look when Fox mentioned “films, but at the inquiry concerning the general his countenance lightened and lie an- swered shortly. “Much de same, sah.” “Where is he? questioned Fox. “Wliea he’s been fa five yeas, — ya can ' t see ’im !” “All right ” ' “Jackson,” supplied the negro. on 11 do fully as well, box meditated, and spoke in a lower tone to the surprised negro. How would )ou like to make a deal? he questioned enthusiastically, I have come out here to make a war picture and this is just the place.” It took considerable time to convince the obstinate Jackson that it was not a 24

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the years had rolled backward to the i8 ' .o’s. The field was an array of tents gaily adorned with t he Stars and Stripes; to the right were trenches, filled with Quaker cannon ; then there stood long lines of horses, — and sentinels guarded the general’s tent; men lay behind the breastworks and the cook was busy in his tent. Presently, Fox, satisfied that all was ready roared out the order, “Clear camp of all but necessities, — Confederate Brigade! get ready behind the trees ’ The two operators began to turn the handles Of their machines, and the picture began. 1 he appointed men strolled about the camp; the cook went his rounds with broth ; men fed horses. Fox seemed to notice all but there was one thing his eye missed. No one had glanced toward the house,— if they had they would have seen a drawn, wdiite face, peering through an upper casement. But illiam Fox only noticed his work and shouted, “Clear for the spy! His command was obeyed, for a man on a galloping horse rushed from tl e trees, and standing in his saddle shouted, “The Rebels are coming Then followed confusion. The general rushed from his tent and the bugler gave the alarm. The whole camp was alive, and the picket rode back among the trees. Hardly had he disappeared when a puff of smoke was seen and the same horse came galloping back, — its rider limp in the saddle. Then came more smoke and the men behind the breastworks began to fire. Suddenly from somewhere through the trees rang a high, frenzied, al- most inhuman voice, box stared. “Close on em boys,” the voice command- ed, “go through ’em, go!” The men firing, as if suddenly stricken, ceased to glance behind them, irom whence the voice came. Fox yelled angrily. “What are you stopping for, go on, I say, go on!” and again the firing began. 1 h rough the smoke someone was seen leaping upon the breastworks and again the same deathly voice rang out in a piercing battle cry. Now, through the smoke was the figure seen,— a spectre of Death, a ghost of a departed soul, it seemed. A gray Confe derate uniform covered the form of the almost flesh less body, gaunt and high as a giant s, white hair fell beneath the plum- ed hat and a bloodless face, with staring eyes pierced through the smoke. For a moment the body hesitated. In one hand streamed an old Confederate ban- ner, in the other a gleaming sabre flashed. His high cracked voice rang out again, “Come on boys, right through ’em, come on.” Already the men behind the opposite breastworks had fled, and now the remaining ran as he jumped down among them. Fox stared, helpless. The men at the bioscopes had ceased turning the handles. Suddenly awakening box yelled in fury, “Keep them turning, you fools, keep it going.” But the war picture suddenly ended,— a picture of an old man who fell dead as he pulled down the Stars and Stripes, — a picture of frenzied triumph, of old age clutching old Glory and reeling to earth with it clasped to his Con- federate heart. —GLADYS KELLEY, ’19. 26