The last time they came, he made for the canebrake, and hid himself
there until they were gone. But though he had escaped their righteous
vengeance, he became so nervous that he left his hiding place in the
canebraker, and went to Atlanta, Ga., and staid there among friends
until things became more quiet. At last wearying of this, he determined
to return to old Master Jack's, but not to his own home. Word had been
received of his coming, and great preparations were made for his
reception. After he had started on his return, he was taken ill on the
train, and was left at a small town called Jackson, where he soon died.
I drove the family to the depot upon the day of his expected arrival,
and as the train came in, the women waved their handkerchiefs; and, when
the conductor stepped off, they asked him if Mr. McGee was aboard. He
said no--"I have his remains." The scene that followed, I can not
describe--such wailing and screaming! I could not but feel sad, even
though they had treated me so meanly, causing the death of my children,
and separating me from my wife. Their grief was indeed great. The sad
news was conveyed to his mother, old Mrs. Jack McGee, at the house by an
advance messenger, and we soon followed with the body. He was the
favorite son of his mother, and her grief was very great. But for his
wanton shooting of the Union officer, he would probably not have met his
death as he did.

* * * * *

UNION SOLDIERS PASS THE PANOLA HOME.

One winter night, while I was at old Master Jack's, I was awakened by a
rumbling noise like that of heavy wagons, which continued steadily and
so long a time that I finally concluded it must be an army passing, and
such I found to be the case, upon getting up and venturing out, the