wind which heralded the approach of winter and chanted in tones now loud, now low, the requiem of the dying year and the dead hero.

Forty-three years later, as I stood there, the wind was again cold as it blew the bright-hued autumn leaves, one by one, from the red and gold maples which now stand as stately sentinels on the same hillside; but a glorious sun bathed the earth and sky with splendor, and it seemed that all the beauties of nature conspired together to flatter and adorn the little town which nestled amid the scarlet and bronze of the autumn groves.

Supurb clouds, like snow-white barges with sails uplifted, swept across the brilliant blue sea of ether above it, and the beech woods which girdle it on every side were painted in broad bands of richest colors.

In the valleys the eye traveled through a deep magnificence of shade to the sunlight beyond, which was falling like our Father's benediction upon the gleaming marble of a shaft erected in memory of that same young martyr whose soul passed to the home of the brave and the blest on that dreary November morning.

As I stood there so filled with exalted memories of his loyalty and the lovely characteristics which he evinced in every way during his imprisonment and at his trial by court-martial and in his match

less death, I almost felt that the spot whereon my feet rested was holy ground.

I fell to thinking of that warm, bright afternoon of the long ago when he was making his way out of the little town with those prized documents concealed in the sole of his boot, and of how he was overtaken and captured by the Federal officers on the Lamb's Ferry Road (which I could see winding its white length from the southwest limits of the town), and a graphic account of which has been furnished by Joshua Brown, a fellow scout, and which I will give as a true and accurate description.

As I stood on the same spot where he stood and looked across to the hill opposite me, his monument, which has been erected by the untiring labor and devotion of the Daughters of the Confederacy of Pulaski and Giles County, gleamed upon my sight. In its white purity it seemed emblematic of his life and death, as it was silhouetted sharp and vehement, full-bodied and rich, against the wide horizon, infinitely clear from its background of blazing intensity of light from the setting sun, which was slowly and regally sinking to rest on his couch of gold in the purple west.

This monument and many others which are being built all over this fair Southland of ours are but fit testimonials from her loving women. And

the entire American nation is fast awakening to this same desire to show in this way their appreciation of the valor and bravery of the men who wore the gray-the truest types of manhood and honor which walk the earth or sleep beneath her sod today. The sons and daughters of this generation are fast coming to a fuller realization of these facts, and are more and more filled with a determination to give just recognition from man to man for deeds of bravery done and hard-fought battles, whether lost or won.

"And above the sad world's sobbing,

And the strife of clan with clan,
I can hear the mighty throbbing
Of the heart of God in man.

And a voice sounds through the chiming
Of the bells, and seems to say:
'We are climbing, we are climbing,
As we circle on our way."

SAM DAVIS: HIS CAPTURE, TRIAL, AND

EXECUTION.

BY JOSHUA BROWN.

IN the fall of 1863 we were ordered into Middle Tennessee to report to Dr. Shaw, known as Captain Coleman. Dr. Shaw was the chief of the secret service of General Bragg's army, and created and commanded what was known as the Coleman Scouts. He ordered us to different duties in this part of the State. We were instructed in those duties, and were to get all the information we could as to the numbers and positions of the Federal army. The country became so overrun with the Federal cavalry, the Sixteenth Corps of General Dodge's command, that it was dangerous for us to travel except at night, and he ordered us to separate and make our way south. The papers and information that had been collected from his many agents in the line, and from Nashville and other points, were collected into different packages and were intrusted to Sam Davis, who was considered the best scout, as he knew the country better and was more reliable than any other scout. To him was intrusted this responsibility.

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