That long black office table, the telegrapher's key still attached to it, is still in existence in Rockingham. It is alive with reminiscences of the Valley campaigns; of the Laurel Brigade and its brave dashing commander; of Fitzhugh Lee, and the lamented Ashby, and of Breckinridge, and a host of other splendid men; of Jubal A. Early, the imperturbable, who often desired of his young friend a little spirits and complained sometimas it had a ‘taste of rotten apples,’ in his high-pitched, drawling voice. Custer's rear guard opened fire on our men that morning across the roof of the residence of Dr. M. from the lofty bluff beyond the river. The enemy soon drew off, however, as Rosser advanced in pursuit—and Major M., of Rosser's staff, dismounting a moment, begged the little maid whose home was here to play for us all before we parted on the first piano ever brought to Rockingnam and sing this song, then sung so much because it was in everybody's heart:
When this cruel war is over,
Praying them to meet again.
N. M. Burkholder. June 27, 1900.