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The old cedar tree standing by the fence could have told a tale;
for in its closely clipped branches were a lot of dried beef tongues.
At the very last minute they were discovered in the smokehouse,
the army was in sight, and they were hurriedly pitched into the
cedar tree for safe keeping. To a casual observer, they were only
brown leaves drifted down from the oak tree.
When the news came that the Northern Army would pass Folly
the next day, Mrs. Cochran got up in the wee sma’ hours of the
night, and waked her housekeeper. The two silently collected all
the silver, including the service, basket and spoons, brought over
from England, put it all into a wooden box and between them
carried it down into the garden. They dug a hole in the soft earth
of the asparagus bed and buried it. What was their joy the next
morning to find it pouring down rain, thus obliterating all trace
of freshly-dug earth.
These and many other old tales are brought to light only for
the sake of history and to tell to our children and grandchildren.
Time has so mellowed the recollections that they seem a part of a
dream, but enhance the human interest of this old garden.
ANNIE COCHRAN RAWLINSON.
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