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Updated: June 17, 2025
In fact, I don't mind confessing that I represent a New York syndicate, and that my object in making this journey is to purchase, if I can, the Jackson farm." "The Jackson farm!" repeated Ben, his breath almost taken away by his surprise. "Yes; do you know anything about it?" asked his companion. "I have heard of a farmer in Centerville named Peter Jackson." "That is the man."
The first move of the army was on to Centerville, and the Bull Run battlefield. The enemy fell back. Then McClellan changed his base to the peninsula between the York and James rivers. April 15th, 1862, the recruiting office was closed and our party started for the regiment. We stopped at Fortress Monroe and procured rations. From there took a steamer up the river about 20 miles to Shipping Point.
About fifty miles this side of Centerville he had for a seat companion a man of middle age, with a pleasant face, covered with a brown beard, who, after reading through a Philadelphia paper which he had purchased of the train-boy, seemed inclined to have a social chat with Ben. "May I ask your destination, my young friend?" he asked.
The three of them lived by themselves in one of the most substantial and beautiful houses in Centerville; so the boy's sudden sense of anxiety could be easily understood. He was really the man of the house, and often felt his conscience stab him when he left his mother and Violet alone. "Oh! stow that, Will!" urged the more practical Jerry. "It isn't going to turn out as bad as that.
Reddy hovered near, listening, and Frank wondered why that wistful look had come into the eyes of the young cowboy. Possibly he had a home somewhere perhaps memories of a mother or father had crowded into his mind while the boys were talking of the sacred ties that bound them to Centerville. Frank had always believed there must be something of a history attached to Reddy's past.
"And I'll lay in a stock of films and such things, for I expect to get lots of fine pictures among those wonderful Southern scenes. I've always wanted to see that Spanish moss trailing from the swamp trees like it is in all Southern views. I'm the happiest chap in Centerville tonight, Frank!" exclaimed Will.
I find myself paraphrasing: "But for the grace of God there goes John Bradford," and when I meet a crafty looking old Chinaman this whimsy comes to me, "If Deacon Bushnell who passed the plate in the Centerville Methodist Church had been a Chinaman this is the way he would have looked." They are such small town folks.
We marched about ten miles, with a portable bureau or what you might call a knapsack on our backs, before one o'clock that day, to the Centerville race course. We pitched our tents and made things as comfortable as we could for the night as you must know it was quite cold weather, it being the last of November.
But after I finished college, when they offered me the English Department in the High School in Mount Mark at seventy-five per, and when I insisted on coming down here to Centerville to take this stenographic job with Messrs. Nesbitt and Orchard, at eight a week, well, the serene atmosphere of our quiet home was decidedly murky for a while.
These Senators seem to have ventured nearer to the front than did Trumbull and Grimes, and were a little later in the retreat At a "choke-up," still on the far side of Centerville, their carriage passed the carriage of the four Congressmen who, by the way, were also armed, having among them "four of the largest navy revolvers." All these men, whatever their faults or absurdities, were intrepid.
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