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his sermons also have been published, among the best known of which are "The Age of Indifference," "Episcopacy, Fact and Law," "The Way of Righteousness, a Railroad Sermon," and "The Continuity of the Church of God," which was preached in 1886 before the general convention in Chicago. He was selected by the House of Bishops as their delegate to the Venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, upon the occasion of the Centenary Commemoration of the consecration of the first Prelate of the Protestant Episcopal Church of America, and preached the sermon in St. Paul's Cathedral on June 18, 1884. This sermon is also in print. "The Canter

bury Pilgrimage" is a bound volume of letters, charmingly written, giving an account of the Lambert Conference of 1878 and the Sheffield Church congress.

Bishop Bedell's most important contribution to theological literature is "The Pastor," a volume of six hundred pages upon pastoral theology. It is inscribed "To the Memory of My Father," and is a most useful book. It has received the highest praise from distinguished men both within and without the church, and is believed by many to be the best book upon the subject of which it treats that has been written by any clergyman of the Episcopal communion, either in this country or the mother church of England.

ORIGIN OF "YANKEE

It was during the war between the Puritans and the Cavaliers that the air was composed and named "Nancy Dawson," which we now sing to the words of "Yankee Doodle." A loyalist wrote a lyric in derision of Cromwell, and adapted it to the air of Nancy, or Nanky Dawson-one verse of which was:

Nanky Doodle came to town,

Riding on a pony;

With a feather in his hat

Upon a macaroni.

A "doodle" in the old English dictionaries, is defined to be "a sorry, trifling fellow," perhaps the ancestor of the modern "dude," and the term was

DOODLE."

applied to Cromwell, the prototype of Washington, in that sense.

A macaroni was a knot on which the feather was fastened.

A satirical poem, accompanied by a caricature of William Pitt, appeared in 1760, in which the following verse oc

curs:

Stamp Act! le diable! dat is de job, sir;
Dat is de Stiltman's nob, sir;
To be America's nabob, sir,
Doodle, noodle, do.

The air was known long before the revolution in New England, as "Lydia Fisher's Jig," one verse of which was:

Lucy Locket lost her pocket,
Lydia Fisher found it ;

Not a bit of money in it,

Only binding round it.

A surgeon in the British army, stationed at Albany, N. Y., in 1755, composed a song, also in derision of the uncouth appearance of the New England troops assembled there, and called it "Yankey" instead of Nankey Doodle. The air became at once popular as martial music, and when, in 1768, British troops arrived in Boston Harbor, the "Yankey Doodle tune," says a writer at that time, "was the capital piece in the band of music at Castle William."

While the British were yet in Boston, after the arrival of Washington at Cambridge, in 1775, some.poet among them wrote the following, which is the original Yankee Doodle song of the Revolution:

Father and I went down to camp,
Along with Captain Goodwin,
Where we see the men and boys
As thick as hasty puddin.
There was Captain Washington
Upon a slapping stallion,
A giving orders to his men :

I guess there was a million.
And then the feathers on his hat
They looked so tarnal fina,

I wanted pockily to get

To give to my Jemima.

And then they had a swampin gun
As large as log of maple,
On a deuced little cart-

A load for father's cattle.
And every time they fired it off,
It took a horn of powder,

It made a noise like father's gun,
Only a nation louder.

And there I see a cannon shell

As big as mother's basin,
And every time they touched it off
They scampered like the nation.
And there I see a little keg,

Its head was made of leather;
They knocked upon it with little sticks,
To call the folks together.

And then they'd fife away like fun,
And play on cornstalk fiddles,
And some had ribbons red as blood,
All wound about their middles.

The troopers, too, would gallop up
And fire right in our faces;
It scared me almost half to death
To see them run such races.

It scared me so I hooked it off
Nor slept as I remember,
Nor turned about till I got home,

Locked up in mother's chamber.

The air was taken up and played for the first time as martial music by the Continentals at Bunker Hill, January 17, 1775. Ever since it has been ours. Having its origin more than two hundred years ago in the heart and head of one of those "baser natures which came between the pass and fell incensed points of mighty oppositesCharles I. and Cromwell," it passed down the current of musical literature to become ours by the copyright of arms;—an intended plague upon the Puritans and afterwards upon all New Englanders-it returned to plague the inventors themselves. by rising to the dignity of being the oldest and most popular national air in the history of Republican America.

Denver, 1891.

HENRY DUDLEY TEETOR.

A REBEL PRISON PEN.

THE STORY OF A UNION SOLDIER'S CAPTURE AND

The 100th Regiment was organized in 1862 at the call of President Lincoln for 300,000 more men. At that time I was an apprentice boy to Gen. I. R. Sherwood, in the office of the Wauseon Republican, and holding the responsible position dubbed among printers as "the devil." The working force of the office consisted of the foreman, Col. A. B. Smith, and myself. All was excitement in that patriotic little town of Wauseon. Smith and "the devil" would set up a "take" of copy, and then lay down the stick and rush to the recruiting office to ascertain if many of the town boys were enlisting. It was useless for us to try to work, and as Gen. Sherwood had enlisted in a Bryan company of the 111th Regiment, we also attached our names to the enlistment roll, regardless of the entreaties of our junior employer, and left him to set his own type and get out the paper as best he could.

The regiment was soon formed, and the different companies concentrated at Toledo, and went into camp at the junction of Cherry street and Collingwood avenue, and on the 8th day of September, 1862, in that little apple orchard, we were mustered into the United States service. The rebel army, under Bragg, had entered Ken

EXPERIENCES.

tucky, and the city of Cincinnati was in danger.

On the morning of the 9th we broke camp, and as we marched down Cherry street to Summit, and to the Island House depot, it seemed as though every man, woman and child in Toledo and Northwestern Ohio had thronged upon the line of those streets to bid us good-bye.

The

One thousand young men were leaving their homes; two thirds of whom were never to return. We were early at the depot, but had to wait an hour for the making up of our train. hotel eating house was located in a long shed in the center of the depot, and as the morning passenger train arrived the shed doors were hoisted, and the fat colored gentleman with a three-foot gong and bass drum stick sounded the call-breakfast, breakfast. The boys were not slow to respond to the announcement. Before a passenger could reach the eating house the tables were swept clean, and many of the One Hundredth went to the front with a full stomach. The proprieter, Ainger, was loyal, and it was presumed he considered it his treat.

We left Toledo at 10 a. m., arrived at Cincinnati about midnight, marched over the pontoon bridge to Covington,

sleeping on the brick floor in the market house till morning, when genuine government rations and 80 rounds of ammunition were issued to each man, and then we marched up the hill and over the heights and into the trenches, and received our first introduction to Confederates in arms.

Bragg's advanced forces menaced Covington for about two weeks. After the battle of Perryville he retreated, closely followed by the Union army till out of Kentucky. From the fall of 1862 till midsummer, 1863, we were chiefly employed in letting Basil Duke and John Morgan into Kentuckey and then chasing them out again. During this portion of our service we experienced but little of the hardships of

war.

Our colonel, John C. Groome, was a strict disciplinarian.

We had drill before breakfast, drill after breakfast, drill before dinner, and Idrill after dinner. He was also " one of the boys" and periodically would go on a strike. On account of one of those little affairs the matter was referred to an arbitrary committee and John lost his job. Our lieutenant colonel was promoted to the command. We had already dubbed him "Pap," and in the fullness of his heart he allowed the boys more liberties.

Camp life produces an aggravation for foraging. The country and times were opportune and the 100th was generally reckoned to be in it, and Pap Slevin was never around the camp-kettle to see what the boys were preparing. In Southwestern Ken

tucky, the people, who were not in the rebel army, were generally in sympathy with the South. They played Union when our army was with them, but aiders of the rebels when we withdrew.

Between the constant see-sawing of the two armies they had been pretty well stripped of live stock and poultry, etc. While on guard on a large plantation near Somerset, the proprietor came to the reserve post. He was very talkative, and told us of his troubles with the rebels. He invited Mordica Gorsuch and myself up to his house. It being our turn off guard, the lieutenant gave us permission to go with him. He showed us over the place, some calves, a cow and an old horse. On entering the barn Mordica discovered an old hen hatching a nest of eggs in a manger. Noticing our discovery he explained that she was the only hen left, and with her he expected to replenish his brood. We thanked him kindly for his hospitality and returned to our post. On our arrival at camp the next morning, Mordica unwrapped a chicken. dressed it, and as usual put it in the kettle without carving. It was nicely boiling when up came the farmer. We bade him good morning. The old hen was bobbing and diving in the boiling water. We kept between him and the kettle. He managed to get a peep into the pot, and turning with a deep drawn sigh, he exclaimed: "Boys, you got her at last!"

We

A more concerted action of the

armies was now about to be inaugurated. Our hot-bread, fresh milk and chicken diet campaigns were brought to a close. General Burnside with the 9th corp was sent from the Potomac to Kentucky, and with the 23rd corps the army of the Ohio was formed, and Burnside given the command. The 23rd corps concentrated at Camp Dick Rawlinson, and fitted out for the long and tedious march across the Cumberland mountains.

About the middle of August, 1863, the army moved. The cattle necessary for the supply of the troops were driven behind the different brigades. At night as we halted by the roadside the cattle were driven to the head of the column, and the boys would count the number of lame cows and steers, and estimate the amount of fresh beef for breakfast.

Some 22 days of hard marching and assisting the artillery up the steep bluffs brought us to our objective point, the city of Knoxville. The rebels on our approach evacuated the town. Our cavalry having made a detour to the east to intercept their retreat, captured two freight trains with rebel stores and and the train guards brought them to Knoxville.

and

Col. Slevin was assigned the provost marshalship of Knoxville, and a portion of his regiment was detailed for provost duty. I was one of the detail. I had posted my relief and returned to reserve headquarters, when the balance of the regiment, under command of Maj. E. L. Hayes, came down the

street. On inquiry, I learned they were going to take one of the freight trains and make a reconnoitre toward Virginia. Being anxious for the trip, I exchanged places with one of our company boys who was not feeling well. We were soon under way. Our journey that afternoon was more like a Fourth of July excursion than a hunt after the enemy. the enemy. The Strawberry Plains. valley people were, as a rule, loyal. The men had been dogged and conscripted by the rebels. Most of the young men had escaped. Leaving their families behind, they stole their way over the mountains to Kentucky, and enlisted in the Union army.

Greenville was our first stop, and the people at the sound of our train whistle came to the depot en masse. Their great and irrepressible love for the national flag seemed to leap into new life again. Old men, women and children vied with each other in welcoming us. They showered us with delicious peaches, pies and cake. The ladies seized the flag from our color bearer and marched up and down the depot platform singing "The Star Spangled Banner" and other patriotic national songs, and some of them were so enthusiastic as to kiss its broad stripes. However, such luxury to a soldier could not long last. We soon pulled out of Greenville, and arrived at Limestone station, 90 miles from Knoxville, about midnight. Several citizens were at the station, and informed our commander that Gen. "Mudwall" Jackson, with a

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