The Sweetwater Enterprise

On the night of the 13th of November, 1833—I believe was the time of the "falling stars"—an obese old farmer was lying on his sofa, having a negro woman scratching his head, two children picking his ears, two rubbing his hands and two his feet, when he was startled by one—who had been looking out of the window—exclaiming, "Lor! master something is on fire, see how the coals are flying." Kicking and knocking away the seven attendants—besetting him like ants around a dead worm—he went to the door, and seeing the grand pyrotechnic display, sent the whole seven to call Philips, the overseer, whom, when he came, he ordered to call the negroes, and making himself select four of the strongest, he had himself let down his well, and telling Philips to stand at the mouth to transmit his orders, proceeded shouting from his lower deep, "Philips!" "Make Tom and Peter get on the gin-house, Sam and Bob on the barn, Joe and Jeff on the corn crib, and make the others carry them water." "Philips!" "Sir." "Have them fodder-stacks in the gin-house caught yet?" "No, sir." "Philips, ain't the grass-field on the South hill, all in a blaze?" "Not yet, sir; the fire goes out before coming to the ground." "Philips, have a bottle of that old peach brandy, in the cellar, sent down—for hot as it is up there, it is mighty cold down here—and give the niggers what they want, for it will all be burnt up before day." "Philips, do you smell any brimstone from the fire?" "I thought, sir, I did get a whiff of it just now." "Philips, if any of that fire falls down here and should miss me, it would scald me like a hog in a scalding tub, at least it will parboil the life out of me. Philips, get pen, ink and paper," (after they were brought he proceeded.) "Philips, can you write on the bench where they set the water-bucket?" "Yes, sir!" (After dictating a short will, Philips said he would have to come up and sign it in the presence of witnesses, when he proceeded: "Philips, what is the state of the fire?" "Pouring like it was raining ten thousand brush-heaps." "Can't come up yet, Philips. Philips, have you heard Gabriel's trumpet?" "Not yet." "Well, let me know the first toot you hear, that I may have time to pray a little." (Philips proceeded to tell him that there was no use making a will, no how, for all his property would be burned up, and it would be of no use.) "Well, Philips, I forgot that." The Old Peach having begun to operate, gave him Dutch courage to come up, having first had the wagon body brought near the well and turned upside down, under which he crawled. Philips proposed having straw put under the body for him to lie on, he objected, "because it would take fire too easily." But, ordering sheep-skins and blankets, he gave directions to have himself let down again if the wagon body caught fire, and went into his woolen nest under it. The re-action from the warmth and soothing qualities of the emptied bottle, wrapped him with his fears, into forgetfulness until the blessed sun, rising before the sleeper, blotted out all appearance of the falling fire. That will was never presented for probate.