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Updated: June 14, 2025
It was a wood house. It was a big mill. He sold that good syrup in Atlanta. It wasn't sorghum. The men at the mill would scare us but we hid around. They come up to the house and tell on us. "We had moved from the farm when they burned Atlanta. From the place where Moster Milton refugeed I could hear a roaring all the time nearly, sometimes clearer, and the roaring was broke sometimes.
On the 15th of September I telegraphed to General Halleck as follows: My report is done, and will be forwarded as soon as I get in a few more of the subordinate reports. I am awaiting a courier from General Grant. All well; the troops are in good, healthy camps, and supplies are coming forward finely. Governor Brown has disbanded his militia, to gather the corn and sorghum of the State.
My cell-mate was Lieutenant H.G. Dorr of the 4th Massachusetts Cavalry, with whom I journeyed by rail back to Columbia, arriving at "Camp Sorghum" about the 1st of November. I rejoined the mess of Lieutenant Byers, and introduced to the others Lieutenant Dorr, whose cool assurance was a prize that procured us all the blessings possible.
People all busy planting, transplanting, or weeding; they plant cassava on mounds prepared for it, on which they have sown beans, sorghum, maize, pumpkins: these ripen, and leave the cassava a free soil.
General J. B. HOOD, commanding army of Tennessee. I therefore hereby withdraw said organization from your command . . . . This militia had composed a division under command of Major-General Gustavus W. Smith, and were thus dispersed to their homes, to gather the corn and sorghum, then ripe and ready for the harvesters.
"Maybe he will change his mind." "Hurry up and eat your breakfast, Abe," said Tom the next morning. "We're going to cut corn for that skinflint, John Carter." Sarah passed her husband a plate of hot cornbread. "Why, Tom, it ain't fitting to talk that way about a neighbor. Before the children, too." Tom poured a generous helping of sorghum molasses over his bread. "I'm an honest man.
Went 2 1/2 hours west to village of Ponda, where a head Arab, called by the natives Tipo Tipo, lives; his name is Hamid bin Mahamed bin Juma Borajib. He presented a goat, a piece of white calico, and four big bunches of beads, also a bag of Holcus sorghum, and apologised because it was so little.
"What has it got in it?" broke in some one; "molasses, kerosene, or train-oil?" "Well, I lay she's loaded, boss. I ain't shuk her up sence I drapt in, but I lay she's loaded." "Yes," said the agricultural editor, "and it's the meanest bug- juice in town regular sorghum skimmings." "Dat's needer yer ner dar," responded Uncle Remus.
The house faces west. That is the college there. It opens in three weeks, and Fairy can make freshmen all right, they tell me. I wish you could go, too. You haven't had your share of anything any good thing, Prudence." "Well, I have my share of you, father," she said comfortingly. "And I've always had my share of oatmeal and sorghum molasses, though one wouldn't think it to look at me.
Groups of the Elaeis Guineansis palm embowering some dun-brown village; an array of majestic, superb growth of mvule trees; a broad extent covered with vivid green sorghum stalks; parachute-like tops of mimosa; a line of white sand, on which native canoes are drawn far above the reach of the plangent, uneasy surf; fishermen idly reclining in the shade of a tree; these are the scenes which reveal themselves to us as we voyage in our canoe on the Tanganika.
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