At last they brought their guns
to the ground arms, parade rest, and the leader, an ex-Confederate
officer, drawled out, "Wall, Yank, what do you want of we uns?"
"Just as you please, gentlemen, peace or war?"
"We are smoking the pipe, or cigar, of peace, Yank."
"So mote it be, brothers," said I, knowing that they were all members
of the mystic tie. "We meet on the level, let us part on the square."
"So mote it be," was the response in a regular lodge room chorus.
A few quick signs were exchanged between chair and settees, the ice
was broken, the "lodge was opened in due form;" there was no longer
any restraint, for we were all members of the most ancient fraternal
order on earth, of which the wisest man who ever lived was founder.
They had not known this before. The white dove descended, and they
promised on the sacred oath which makes all men brothers, to molest
the negroes no more. We had a jolly good time, gave each other the
Grand Masonic grip and departed to our homes.
As I walked, I saw several dark figures dodging from tree to tree,
and all that night my dusky-hued friends kept vigilant watch and ward
about our cottage. The next morning many valiant war-men in time of
peace, but peace-men in time of war, told me what brave fighting they
would have done for my protection had I but called upon them to do so.
I stocked the lake with excellent food fish obtained from the National
Fish Commissioner, built good sidewalks, arched by beautiful shade
trees; and many prominent men bought lands in our town.
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