and shouted, 'whut's the matter here?' and
a man with red, white an' blue ribbons on his arm cried out, 'Old Andy
Jackson needs soldiers to go to New Orleans.' An' my grandaddy he turns
roun' to the youngsters an' says, 'Come on boys.' They went, suh, an'
one of them boys he didn't come back. Wall, the years passed an' my
daddy an' my oldest brother was a workin' in that same field, a raisin'
of his co'n an' a makin' of his licker--an' mind you the gover'ment
never had opened its chops, fur it was good licker--an' all at once jest
like years befo' there came a beatin' of drums an' a blowin' of fifes
over in the road. An' my daddy clim' up on the fence an' says, 'Whut's
the matter now?' An' a man tuck a fife outen his mouth an' shouts,
'Mexico has trod on us an' we need soldiers.' An' my daddy turns, he
does, an' says to my brother, 'Come on Bob.' They went, Jedge, an' Bob
he didn't come back. Am I a makin' it too long?"

"No, Mr. Starbuck, proceed."

"Do it sound like I'm a beggin'?"

"No" said the Judge, "it is the rude epic of my country. Go on."

"I thank you, suh. Well, finally, my time come. I married a game little
woman an' we had two of as fine boys as the world ever seen. I raised my
co'n on that same hill-side an' made my licker an' the government never
said a word. An' when me an' them boys was a workin' up there we could
hear that little woman a singin' down at the house--a singin' the songs
of glory she had hearn the old soldiers sing. Well, one day me an' them
boys--twin boys, Jedge,--was a hoein' the co'n in the field. I ricolleck
it jest as well as if it was yistidy. An' atter all these years I can
hear that song a comin' up from the house. An' then--then come that same
thrillin' noise, the beatin' of drums an' a blowin' of fifes. We clim'
up on the fence, jest like my granddaddy an' my daddy had done, an' I
cried out, 'Whut's the trouble now?' The drums stopped, an' one of the
men raised his flag up high an' shouted, 'The country is a splittin' up
an' the Union needs soldiers.' An' I says, 'Come on, boys.' I can look
back now, Jedge, an' see that little woman a standin' under a tree a
wavin' us a good-bye with an old flag. I can see her yit. Jedge, we went
down into the fiery furnace. We seed the flag droop an' fall, an'
then--then rise in victory. Yes, I seed it. But my boys--my boys that
was like picturs in the book--they was left at Gettysberg. An' when that
po' little woman hearn that they wan't