THE HAPPY RELEASE



AGAIN 't is Hotchkiss' story. Of the host
Never a gruesome tale, - such men forget,
Or grave as deep as maybe in their souls, -
This time the last one of the mighty store
That Homer should have shaped. 'T was thus it ran: _
"The war was ended when the sun went down
On Appomattox field. All through that night
We packed our remnants, ready to hie home,
To what was left of it in wreck and woe.
My share was large: a worn-out wagon crammed
With maps I 'd made for Jackson and for Lee;
They were in tatters like our battle-flags,
Muddy and blood-stained, ripped by many a shot;
But they would win me bread in days to come,
When railways, mines, and towns would have to be.
I 'd all Virginia pictured for war's use,
They 'd serve for peace as well; for 't is the eatth
We need for business, whate'er it may be -
Earth set forth clear and true. So I hied on,
Full of glad hopes, to Staunton; found there home
Gaunt as the rest; set my lean steeds to plough,
And counted days until the corn would serve
My beggar's state; and found now here, now there,
Chance bit of work where my old maps served well.
So the hard fight was hopeful, till one night