“‘I don’t know, Bill,’ said he. “‘Well, put mine, by golly; for them’s my sentiments,’ said Bill, and so Bill Arp’s name was put to please him, and it was thus that the _nom de plume_ was acquired. This same Bill Arp kept a ferry near Rome, and was so fond of hearing lawyers talk that he would slip off from his ferry during court week and stay all day in the court house, or he would frequent their office just to get into good company. He was wholly unlettered, could neither read nor write, but had a good mother wit of his own, and was never considered an interloper by any sociable crowd. He was wont to say that every poor man ought to be tackled on to a rich one; that he belonged to Colonel Johnston, and didn’t want a better master. He was asked one day who he was going to vote for, and says he: ‘I don’t know, till I see Colonel Johnston, and he won’t know, till he see Judge Underwood, and the Judge won’t know till he hears from Alexander Stephens, but who in the dickens tells Alec Stephens, I’ll be dogged if I know.’ “Bill Arp joined the army with the Major, in the same command, on June 8, 1861. Bill lost two sons in the conflict, but got through safe himself, and lived until 1878. Peace to his ashes. “In 1866 Major Smith was unanimously chosen to represent his district as State Senator, and was made chairman of the financial committee. This is the only official dignity he has borne, and this was wholly unsought. In 1877 he retired from his profession to the more peaceful and congenial pursuit of tilling the soil, and seems extremely happy in his communion with nature and the quiet seclusion of his family from the follies and cares of society life. He has ten living children, and has a lot of grandchildren coming on, whose greatest delight is to go to grandpa’s and play in the branch and catch minnows, ride the colts, and hunt hens’ nests, and fish all the day long. The Major says a grandparent has no business living in town, on a half-acre lot, for it is no pleasure to the grandchildren to visit him and grandma in a pent up Utica or a Rome either. They want latitude and longitude, so let grandparents move into the country, where the little chaps can come and go, and spread out and ‘holler,’ and be happy. Solomon says that children’s children are the glory of a man, and there is nothing better to work for than glory.” In a recent letter to the author of this volume Major Smith tells a funny story in his own peculiar style. He says: