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McArthur was never again troubled by a visit from them, and lived to rejoice in the marriage of his brave daughter to Frank Robertson.
Snivel has taken the precaution to have the news of the lost ship find its way into the papers. "Mr. Hardscrabble!" says the man, bowing and taking a seat, leisurely, upon the decrepit sofa. Mr. McArthur returns his salutation, contemplates him doubtingly for a minute, then resumes his fussing and brushing.
McArthur says are in great demand with our first families. No one, except Mr. Soloman Snivel, knows better what the chivalry stand in need of to prop up its declining dignity. His dirty little shelves, too, are stuffed with those cheap uniforms the State so grudgingly voted its unwilling volunteers during the Revolution. See Senator Sumner's speech in Congress on Plantation manners.
Two and a half years later, Andrew Jackson and his militia emblazoned a very different story behind the cypress breastworks of New Orleans. Besides the thousand men in the fort, Hull had detached five hundred under Colonels McArthur and Cass to attempt to break through the Indian cordon in his rear and obtain supplies.
Smith's first brigade, commanded by Colonel John McArthur, was composed of the Ninth, Twelfth, and Forty-first Illinois. The second brigade was left at Fort Henry.
His men found the same difficulty that is mentioned in reports of other commanders, of distinguishing the enemy except when close at hand, or in motion. Their uniform, of the same color with the dead leaves of dense scrub-oak, uniforms and foliage at a short distance were undistinguishable. McArthur drew his brigade back out of the contest, halted, and obtained ammunition and rations.
Reply led to rejoinder, and one epistle to another, until all the chief bards of the four provinces had taken sides. Half a dozen writers, pro and con, were particularly distinguished; McDaire himself, Turlogh O'Brien, and Art Oge O'Keefe on behalf of the Southerners; O'Clery, O'Donnell, the two McEgans, and Robert McArthur on the side of the North.
McArthur must have been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, for though he had come to Tulaska with barely a red cent in his pocket, everything he attempted succeeded. His land increased, his cattle increased, his home grew in proportion to his land, his wife was a perfect manager, and his only child was noted for her beauty and daring.
He whispers in the ear of Mr. Sergeant Stubble, and that functionary brightens up, and with an attempt to be kind, says: "Pray, Miss McArthur it's a duty we have to perform, you see where is your father? the Judge says." Ah! That question has touched the fountain-spring of all her troubles, and the waters come gushing forth, as if to engulph the last faint shadow of hope in darkness.
But nothing could be done at that time. "Come again a week from to-day," said he, "and I will try to obtain you a hearing before one who can do what you wish by a single word. I believe in your scheme and will help you if I can." The week rolled by and a change of commanding generals occurred. Gen. Wade was ordered away, taking McArthur with him, and no progress had been made. It was discouraging.
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