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diff --git a/75553-h/75553-h.htm b/75553-h/75553-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f2be756 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/75553-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4692 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Among the camps | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} +.tdc {text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;} + +.indentright {padding-right: 5em;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.antiqua { + font-family: Blackletter, Fraktur, Textur, "Old English Text MT", "Olde English Mt", + "Olde English", "Old English", "Engravers Old English BT", "Collins Old English", + "New Old English", Gothic, serif, sans-serif;} + + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} +.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} +p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: -0.75em; +} +p.drop-cap:first-letter, p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe31_3125 {width: 31.3125em;} +.illowe35_75 {width: 35.75em;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75553 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>AMONG THE CAMPS</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="ph1">BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE.</p> +<hr class="tiny"> + +<table> +<tr><td>ELSKET AND OTHER STORIES. 12mo,</td><td class="tdr"> $1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td>NEWFOUND RIVER. 12mo,</td><td class="tdr"> 1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td>IN OLE VIRGINIA. 12mo,</td><td class="tdr"> 1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td>THE SAME. Cameo Edition. With an etching by W. L. Sheppard. 16mo,</td><td class="tdr">1.25</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><hr class="tiny"></td></tr> + +<tr><td>AMONG THE CAMPS. Young People’s Stories of the War. Illustrated. Sq. 8vo,</td><td class="tdr">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>TWO LITTLE CONFEDERATES. Illustrated. Square 8vo,</td><td class="tdr"> 1.50</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2"><hr class="tiny"></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“BEFO’ DE WAR.” Echoes of Negro Dialect. By. A. C. Gordon and Thomas Nelson Page. 12mo,</td><td class="tdr"> 1.00</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> +<figure class="figcenter illowe31_3125" id="i004"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i004.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“HALT!” BANG, BANG, WENT THE GUNS IN HIS VERY FACE.</p></figcaption> +</figure> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">AMONG THE CAMPS</span></p> + +<p>OR</p> + +<p><span class="xlarge"><i>YOUNG PEOPLE’S STORIES OF THE WAR</i></span></p> + +<p>BY<br> +<span class="large">THOMAS NELSON PAGE</span></p> + +<p>ILLUSTRATED</p> + +<p>NEW YORK<br> +CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br> +1891</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1891, by</span><br> +CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br> +<br> +<br> +Press of J. J. Little & Co.<br> +Astor Place, New York</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="ph3"><span class="antiqua">To Her:</span></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="blockquot"> +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>NOTE.</i></h2> + +<p><i>My acknowledgments are due to Messrs. Harper & Brothers +and to Mr. A. B. Starey, the Publishers and the Editor of +HARPERS’ YOUNG PEOPLE, in which Magazine I had the +pleasure of having these stories, with the accompanying illustrations, +first appear.</i></p> + +<p class="right"><i>T. N. P.</i></p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>CONTENTS.</i></h2> +</div> + +<table> + +<tr><td><i>A Captured Santa Claus</i></td><td class="tdc"><i>Page</i></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> <i>1</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>Kittykin, and the Part She Played in the War</i></td><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41"> <i>41</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“<i>Nancy Pansy</i>”</td><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65"> <i>65</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>“<i>Jack and Jake</i>”</td><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_115"> <i>115</i></a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</i></h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<tr><td><i>“Halt!” Bang, bang, went the Guns in His very Face</i></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>Colonel Stafford opens the Bundle</i></td><td class="tdc"> <i>Page</i></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11"> <i>11</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>“What You Children gwine do wid dat little Cat?” asked Mammy, severely</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40"> <i>40</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>“I Want My Kittykin,” said Evelyn</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54"> <i>54</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>Nancy Pansy clasped Harry closely to Her Bosom</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77"> <i>77</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>She ran up to Him, putting up Her Face to be Kissed</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91"> <i>91</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>He drew Them Plans of the Roads and Hills and big Woods</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_123"> <i>123</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><i>Jack made a running Noose in the Rope and tried to throw it over the Horse’s Head</i></td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_139"> <i>139</i></a></td></tr> +</table> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">A CAPTURED SANTA CLAUS.</h2> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> + +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">HOLLY HILL was the place for Christmas! From Bob +down to brown-eyed Evelyn, with her golden hair +floating all around her, every one hung up a stocking, +and the visit of Santa Claus was the event of the year.</p> + +<p>They went to sleep on the night before Christmas—or +rather they went to bed, for sleep was long far from their eyes,—with +little squeakings and gurglings, like so many little white +mice, and if Santa Claus had not always been so very punctual +in disappearing up the chimney before daybreak, he must +certainly have been caught; for by the time the chickens were +crowing in the morning there would be an answering twitter +through the house, and with a patter of little feet and subdued +laughter small white-clad figures would steal through +the dim light of dusky rooms and passages, opening doors +with sudden bursts, and shouting “Christmas gift!” into +darkened chambers, at still sleeping elders, then scurrying +away in the gray light to rake open the hickory embers and +revel in the exploration of their crowded stockings.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>Such was Christmas morning at Holly Hill in the old +times before the war. Thus it was, that at Christmas 1863, +when there were no new toys to be had for love or money, +there were much disappointment and some murmurs at Holly +Hill. The children had never really felt the war until then, +though their father, Major Stafford, had been off, first with +his company and then with his regiment, since April, 1861. +Now from Mrs. Stafford down to little tot Evelyn, there was +an absence of the merriment which Christmas always brought +with it. Their mother had done all she could to collect such +presents as were within her reach, but the youngsters were +much too sharp not to know that the presents were “just +fixed up”; and when they were all gathered around the fire +in their mother’s chamber, Christmas morning, looking over +their presents, their little faces wore an expression of pathetic +disappointment.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think much of <i>this</i> Christmas,” announced Ran, +with characteristic gravity, looking down on his presents with +an air of contempt. “A hatchet, a ball of string, and a hare-trap +isn’t much.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford smiled, but the smile soon died away into +an expression of sadness.</p> + +<p>“I too have to do without my Christmas gift,” she said. +“Your father wrote me that he hoped to spend Christmas +with us, and he has not come.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind; he may come yet,” said Bob encouragingly. +(Bob always was encouraging. That was why he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> +“Old Bob.”) “An axe was just the thing I wanted, mamma,” +said he, shouldering his new possession proudly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford’s face lit up again.</p> + +<p>“And a hatchet was what I wanted,” admitted Ran; +“now I can make my own hare-traps.”</p> + +<p>“An’ I like a broked knife,” asserted Charlie stoutly, falling +valiantly into the general movement, whilst Evelyn pushed +her long hair out of her eyes, and hugged her baby, declaring:</p> + +<p>“I love my dolly, and I love Santa Tlaus, an’ I love my +papa,” at which her mother took the little midget to her +bosom, doll and all, and hid her face in her tangled curls.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE holiday was scarcely over when one evening Major +Stafford galloped up to the gate, his black horse Ajax +splashed with mud to his ear-tips.</p> + +<p>The Major soon heard all about the little ones’ disappointment +at not receiving any new presents.</p> + +<p>“Santa Tlaus didn’ tum this Trismas, but he’s tummin’ +next Trismas,” said Evelyn, looking wisely up at him, that +evening, from the rug where she was vainly trying to make +her doll’s head stick on her broken shoulders.</p> + +<p>“And why did he not come this Christmas, Miss Wisdom?” +laughed her father, touching her with the toe of his +boot.</p> + +<p>“Tause the Yankees wouldn’ let him,” said she gravely, +holding her doll up and looking at it pensively, her head on +one side.</p> + +<p>“And why, then, should he come next year?”</p> + +<p>“Tause God’s goin’ to make him.” She turned the +mutilated baby around and examined it gravely, with her shining +head set on the other side.</p> + +<p>“There’s faith for you,” said Mrs. Stafford, as her husband +asked, “How do you know this?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>“Tause God told me,” answered Evelyn, still busy with +her inspection.</p> + +<p>“He did? What is Santa Claus going to bring you?”</p> + +<p>The little mite sprang to her feet. “He’s goin’ to bring +me—a—great—big—dolly—with real sure ’nough hair, and +blue eyes that will go to sleep.” Her face was aglow, and +she stretched her hands wide apart to give the size.</p> + +<p>“She has dreamt it,” said the Major, in an undertone, to +her mother. “There is not such a doll as that in the Southern +Confederacy,” he continued.</p> + +<p>The child caught his meaning. “Yes, he is,” she insisted, +“’cause I asked him an’ he said he would; and Charlie——”</p> + +<p>Just then that youngster himself burst into the room, a +small whirlwind in petticoats. As soon as his cyclonic tendencies +could be curbed, his father asked him:</p> + +<p>“Well, what did you ask Santa Claus for, young man?”</p> + +<p>“For a pair of breeches and a sword,” answered the boy, +promptly, striking an attitude.</p> + +<p>“Well, upon my word!” laughed his father, eying the +erect little figure and the steady, clear eyes which looked +proudly up at him. “I had no idea what a young Achilles +we had here. You shall have them.”</p> + +<p>The boy nodded gravely. “All right. When I get to +be a man I won’t let anybody make my mamma cry.” He +advanced a step, with head up, the very picture of spirit.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you won’t?” said his father, with a gesture to +prevent his wife interrupting.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>“Nor my little sister,” said the young warrior, patronizingly, +swelling with infantile importance.</p> + +<p>“No; he won’t let anybody make <i>me</i> ky,” chimed in +Evelyn, promptly accepting the proffered protection.</p> + +<p>“On my word, Ellen, the fellow has some of the old blood +in him,” said Major Stafford, much pleased. “Come here, +my young knight.” He drew the boy up to him. “I had +rather have heard you say that than have won a brigadier’s +wreath. You shall have your breeches and your sword next +Christmas. Were I the king I should give you your spurs. +Remember, never let any one make your mother or sister +cry.”</p> + +<p>Charlie nodded in token of his acceptance of the condition.</p> + +<p>“All right,” he said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span></p> + +<h3>III.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Major Stafford galloped away, on his return +to his command, the little group at the lawn gate +shouted many messages after him. The last thing he +heard was Charlie’s treble, as he seated himself on the gate-post, +calling to him not to forget to make Santa Claus bring +him a pair of breeches and a sword, and Evelyn’s little voice +reminding him of her “dolly that can go to sleep.”</p> + +<p>Many times during the ensuing year, amid the hardships +of the campaign, the privations of the march, and the dangers +of battle, the Major heard those little voices calling to him. +In the autumn he won the three stars of a colonel for gallantry +in leading a desperate charge on a town, in a perilous +raid into the heart of the enemy’s country, and holding the +place; but none knew, when he dashed into the town at the +head of his regiment under a hail of bullets, that his mind +was full of toyshops and clothing stores, and that when he +was so stoutly holding his position he was guarding a little +boy’s suit, a small sword with a gilded scabbard, and a large +doll with flowing ringlets and eyes that could “go to sleep.” +Some of his friends during that year had charged the Major +with growing miserly, and rallied him upon hoarding up his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> +pay and carrying large rolls of Confederate money about his +person; and when, just before the raid, he invested his entire +year’s pay in four or five ten-dollar gold pieces, they vowed +he was mad.</p> + +<p>The Major, however, always met these charges with a +smile. And as soon as his position was assured in the captured +town he proved his sanity.</p> + +<p>The owner of a handsome store on the principal street, +over which was a large sign, “Men’s and Boys’ Clothes,” +peeping out, saw a Confederate major ride up to the door, +which had been hastily fastened when the fight began, and +rap on it with the handle of his sword. There was something +in the rap that was imperative, and fearing violence if he +failed to respond, he hastily opened the door. The officer +entered, and quickly selected a little uniform suit of blue +cloth with brass buttons.</p> + +<p>“What is the price of this?”</p> + +<p>“Ten dollars,” stammered the shopkeeper.</p> + +<p>To his astonishment the Confederate officer put his hand in +his pocket and laid a ten-dollar gold piece on the counter.</p> + +<p>“Now show me where there is a toyshop.”</p> + +<p>There was one only a few doors off, and there the Major +selected a child’s sword handsomely ornamented, and the +most beautiful doll, over whose eyes stole the whitest of rose-leaf +eyelids, and which could talk and do other wonderful +things. He astonished this shopkeeper also by laying down +another gold piece. This left him but two or three more of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> +the proceeds of his year’s pay, and these he soon handed over +a counter to a jeweller, who gave him a small package in +exchange.</p> + +<p>All during the remainder of the campaign Colonel Stafford +carried a package carefully sealed, and strapped on behind +his saddle. His care of it and his secrecy about it were +the subjects of many jests among his friends in the brigade, +and when in an engagement his horse was shot, and the Colonel, +under a hot fire, stopped and calmly unbuckled his bundle, +and during the rest of the fight carried it in his hand, +there was a clamor that he should disclose the contents. +Even an offer to sing them a song would not appease them.</p> + +<p>The brigade officers were gathered around a camp-fire that +night on the edge of the bloody field. A Federal officer, +Colonel Denby, who had been slightly wounded and captured +in the fight, and who now sat somewhat grim and moody +before the fire, was their guest.</p> + +<p>“Now, Stafford, open the bundle and let us into the +secret,” they all said. The Colonel, without a word, rose and +brought the parcel up to the fire. Kneeling down, he took +out his knife and carefully ripped open the outer cover. +Many a jest was levelled at him across the blazing logs as he +did so.</p> + +<p>One said the Colonel had turned peddler, and was trying +to eke out a living by running the blockade on Lilliputian +principles; another wagered that he had it full of Confederate +bills; a third, that it was a talisman against bullets, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> +so on. Within the outer covering were several others; but +at length the last was reached. As the Colonel ripped carefully, +the group gathered around and bent breathlessly over +him, the light from the blazing camp-fire shining ruddily on +their eager, weather-tanned faces. When the Colonel put in +his hand and drew out a toy sword, there was a general exclamation, +followed by a dead silence; but when he took the +doll from her soft wrapping, and then unrolled and held up +a pair of little trousers not much longer than a man’s hand, +and just the size for a five-year-old boy, the men turned away +their faces from the fire, and more than one who had boys of +his own at home, put his hand up to his eyes.</p> + +<p>One of them, a bronzed and weather-beaten officer, who +had charged the Colonel with being a miser, stretched himself +out on the ground, flat on his face, and sobbed aloud as +Colonel Stafford gently told his story of Charlie and Evelyn. +Even the grim face of Colonel Denby looked somewhat +changed in the light of the fire, and he reached over for the +doll and gazed at it steadily for some time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11-12]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i027"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i027.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">COLONEL STAFFORD OPENS THE BUNDLE.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> + +<h3>IV.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">DURING the whole year the children had been looking +forward to the coming of Christmas. Charlie’s outbursts +of petulance and not rare fits of anger were +invariably checked if any mention was made of his father’s +injunction, and at length he became accustomed to curb himself +by the recollection of the charge he had received. If he +fell and hurt himself in his constant attempt to climb up impossible +places, he would simply rub himself and say, proudly, +“I don’t cry now, I am a knight, and next Christmas I am +going to be a man, ’cause my papa’s goin’ to tell Santa Claus +to bring me a pair of breeches and a sword.” Evelyn could +not help crying when she was hurt, for she was only a little +girl; but she added to her prayer of “God bless and keep my +papa, and bring him safe home,” the petition, “Please, God, +bless and keep Santa Tlaus, and let him come here Trismas.”</p> + +<p>Old Bob and Ran too, as well as the younger ones, +looked forward eagerly to Christmas.</p> + +<p>But some time before Christmas the steady advance of +the Union armies brought Holly Hill and the Holly Hill +children far within the Federal lines, and shut out all chance +of their being reached by any message or thing from their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +father. The only Confederates the children ever saw now +were the prisoners who were being passed back on their way +to prison. The only news they ever received were the +rumors which reached them from Federal sources. Mrs. Stafford’s +heart was heavy within her, and when, a day or two +before Christmas, she heard Charlie and Evelyn, as they sat +before the fire, gravely talking to each other of the long-expected +presents which their father had promised that Santa +Claus should bring them, she could stand it no longer. She +took Bob and Ran into her room, and there told them that now +it was impossible for their father to come, and that they must +help her entertain “the children” and console them for their +disappointment. The two boys responded heartily, as true +boys always will when thrown on their manliness.</p> + +<p>For the next two days Mrs. Stafford and both the boys +were busy. Mrs. Stafford, when Charlie was not present, +gave her time to cutting out and making a little gray uniform +suit from an old coat which her husband had worn +when he first entered the army; whilst the boys employed +themselves, Bob in making a pretty little sword and scabbard +out of an old piece of gutter, and Ran, who had a wonderful +turn, in carving a doll from a piece of hard seasoned wood.</p> + +<p>The day before Christmas they lost a little time in following +and pitying a small lot of prisoners who passed along +the road by the gate. The boys were always pitying the +prisoners and planning means to rescue them, for they had an +idea that they suffered a terrible fate. Only one certain case<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> +had come to their knowledge. A young man had one day +been carried by the Holly Hill gate on his way to the headquarters +of the officer in command of that portion of the +lines, General Denby. He was in citizen’s clothes and was +charged with being a spy. The next morning Ran, who had +risen early to visit his hare-traps, rushed into his mother’s +room white-faced and wide-eyed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mamma!” he gasped, “they have hung him, just +because he had on those clothes!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford, though she was much moved herself, +endeavored to explain to the boy that this was one of the +laws of war; but Ran’s mind was not able to comprehend +the principles which imposed so cruel a sentence for what +he deemed so harmless a fault.</p> + +<p>This act and some other measures of severity gave General +Denby a reputation of much harshness among the few +old residents who yet remained at their homes in the lines, +and the children used to gaze at him furtively as he would +ride by, grim and stern, followed by his staff. Yet there +were those who said that General Denby’s rigor was simply +the result of a high standard of duty, and that at bottom he +had a soft heart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p> + +<h3>V.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE approach of Christmas was recognized even in the +Federal camps, and many a song and ringing laugh +were heard around the camp-fires, and in the tents +and little cabins used as winter quarters, over the boxes +which were pouring in from home. The troops in the camps +near General Denby’s headquarters on Christmas eve had +been larking and frolicking all day like so many children, +preparing for the festivities of the evening, when they proposed +to have a Christmas tree and other entertainments; +and the General, as he sat in the front room in the house +used as his headquarters, writing official papers, had more +than once during the afternoon frowned at the noise outside +which had disturbed him. At length, however, late in the +afternoon, he finished his work, and having dismissed his +adjutant, he locked the door, and pushing aside all his +business papers, took from his pocket a little letter and began +to read.</p> + +<p>As he read, the stern lines of the grim soldier’s face +relaxed, and more than once a smile stole into his eyes and +stirred the corners of his grizzled moustache.</p> + +<p>The letter was scrawled in a large childish hand. It +ran:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Dearest Grandpapa</span>: I want to see you very much. I send +you a Christmas gift. I made it myself. I hope to get a whole lot of dolls +and other presents. I love you. I send you all these kisses.... +You must kiss them.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright">“Your loving little granddaughter,</span><br> + +“<span class="smcap">Lily</span>.”</p> +</div> + +<p>When he had finished reading the letter the old veteran +gravely lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss on each of the +little spaces so carefully drawn by the childish hand.</p> + +<p>When he had done he took out his handkerchief and +blew his nose violently as he walked up and down the room. +He even muttered something about the fire smoking. Then +he sat down once more at his table, and placing the little +letter before him, began to write. As he wrote, the fire +smoked more than ever, and the sounds of revelry outside +reached him in a perfect uproar; but he no longer frowned, +and when the strains of “Dixie” came in at the window, +sung in a clear, rich, mellow solo, he sat back in his chair +and listened:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“I wish I were in Dixie, away, away;</div> +<div class="verse">In Dixie’s land I’ll take my stand,</div> +<div class="verse">To live and die for Dixie land,</div> +<div class="verse">Away, away, away down South in Dixie!”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>sang the beautiful voice, full and sonorous.</p> + +<p>When the song ended, there was an outburst of applause, +and shouts apparently demanding some other song, which was +refused, for the noise grew to a tumult. The General rose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +and walked to the window. Suddenly the uproar hushed, +for the voice began again, but this time it was a hymn:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“While shepherds watched their flocks by night,</div> +<div class="indent">All seated on the ground,</div> +<div class="verse">The angel of the Lord came down,</div> +<div class="indent">And glory shone around.”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Verse after verse was sung, the men pouring out of their +tents and huts to listen to the music.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“All glory be to God on high,</div> +<div class="indent">And to the earth be peace;</div> +<div class="verse">Good will henceforth from Heaven to men</div> +<div class="indent">Begin and never cease!”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>sang the singer to the end. When the strain died away +there was dead silence.</p> + +<p>The General finished his letter and sealed it. Carefully +folding up the little one which lay before him, he replaced it +in his pocket, and going to the door, summoned the orderly +who was just without.</p> + +<p>“Mail that at once,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“By the way,” as the soldier turned to leave, “who was +that singing out there just now? I mean that last one, who +sang ‘Dixie,’ and the hymn.”</p> + +<p>“Only a peddler, sir, I believe.”</p> + +<p>The General’s eyes fixed themselves on the soldier.</p> + +<p>“Where did he come from?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>“I don’t know, sir. Some of the boys had him singing.”</p> + +<p>“Tell Major Dayle to come here immediately,” said the +General, frowning.</p> + +<p>In a moment the officer summoned entered.</p> + +<p>He appeared somewhat embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“Who was this peddler?” asked the commander, sternly.</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know—” began the other.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know! Where did he come from?”</p> + +<p>“From Colonel Watchly’s camp directly,” said he, +relieved to shift a part of the responsibility.</p> + +<p>“How was he dressed?”</p> + +<p>“In citizen’s clothes.”</p> + +<p>“What did he have?”</p> + +<p>“A few toys and trinkets.”</p> + +<p>“What was his name?”</p> + +<p>“I did not hear it.”</p> + +<p>“And you let him go!” The General stamped his foot.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I don’t think—” he began.</p> + +<p>“No, I know you don’t,” said the General. “He was a +spy. Where has he gone?”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know. He cannot have gone far.”</p> + +<p>“Report yourself under arrest,” said the commander, +sternly.</p> + +<p>Walking to the door, he said to the sentinel:</p> + +<p>“Call the corporal, and tell him to request Captain +Albert to come here immediately.”</p> + +<p>In a few hours the party sent out reported that they had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> +traced the spy to a place just over the creek, where he was +believed to be harbored.</p> + +<p>“Take a detail and arrest him, or burn the house,” ordered +the General, angrily. “It is a perfect nest of treason,” +he said to himself as he walked up and down, as though in +justification of his savage order.</p> + +<p>“Or wait,” he called to the captain, who was just withdrawing. +“I will go there myself, and take it for my headquarters. +It is a better place than this. I cannot stand this smoke any +longer. That will break up their treasonable work.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p> + +<h3>VI.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap2">ALL that day the tongues of the little ones at Holly Hill +had been chattering unceasingly of the expected visit +of Santa Claus that night. Mrs. Stafford had tried to +explain to Charlie and Evelyn that it would be impossible for +him to bring them their presents this year; but she was met +with the undeniable and unanswerable statement that their +father had promised them. Before going to bed they had +hung their stockings on the mantelpiece right in front of the +chimney, so that Santa Claus would be sure to see them.</p> + +<p>The mother had broken down over Evelyn’s prayer, “not +to forget my papa, and not to forget my dolly,” and her tears +fell silently after the little ones were asleep, as she put +the finishing touches to the tiny gray uniform for Charlie. +She was thinking not only of the children’s disappointment, +but of the absence of him on whose promise they had so +securely relied. He had been away now for a year, and +she had had no word of him for many weeks. Where +was he? Was he dead or alive? Mrs. Stafford sank on +her knees by the bedside.</p> + +<p>“O God, give me faith like this little child!” she prayed +again and again. She was startled by hearing a step on the +front portico and a knock at the door. Bob, who was working<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> +in front of the hall fire, went to the door. His mother +heard him answer doubtfully some question. She opened +the door and went out. A stranger with a large bundle or +pack stood on the threshold. His hat, which was still on +his head, was pulled down over his eyes, and he wore a +beard.</p> + +<p>“An’, leddy, wad ye bay so koind as to shelter a poor +sthranger for a noight at this blissid toim of pace and goodwill?” +he said, in a strong Irish brogue.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said Mrs. Stafford with her eyes fixed on +him. She moved slowly up to him. Then, by an instinct, +quickly lifting her hand, she pushed his hat back from his +eyes. Her husband clasped her in his arms.</p> + +<p>“My darling!”</p> + +<p>When the pack was opened, such a treasure-house of toys +and things was displayed as surely never greeted any other +eyes. The smaller children, including Ran, were not awaked, +at their father’s request, though Mrs. Stafford wished to wake +them to see him; but Bob was let into the secrets, except +that he was not permitted to see a small package which +bore his name. Mrs. Stafford and the Colonel were like two +children themselves as they “tipped” about stuffing the long +stockings with candy and toys of all kinds. The beautiful +doll with flaxen hair, all arrayed in silk and lace, was seated, +last of all, securely on top of Evelyn’s stocking, with her wardrobe +just below her, where she would greet her young mistress +when she should first open her eyes, and Charlie’s little blue<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +uniform was pinned beside the gray one his mother had made, +with his sword buckled around the waist.</p> + +<p>Bob was at last dismissed to his room, and the Colonel +and Mrs. Stafford settled themselves before the fire, hand in +hand, to talk over all the past. They had hardly started, +when Bob rushed down the stairs and dashed into their +room.</p> + +<p>“Papa! papa! the yard’s full of Yankees!”</p> + +<p>Both the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford sprang to their feet.</p> + +<p>“Through the back door!” cried Mrs. Stafford, seizing +her husband.</p> + +<p>“He cannot get out that way—they are everywhere; I +saw them from my window,” gasped Bob, just as the sound +of trampling without became audible.</p> + +<p>“Oh! what will you do? Those clothes! If they catch +you in those clothes!” began Mrs. Stafford, and then stopped, +her face growing ashy pale. Bob also turned even whiter +than he had been before. He remembered the young man +who was found in citizen’s clothes in the autumn, and knew +his dreadful fate. He burst out crying. “Oh, papa! will +they hang you?” he sobbed.</p> + +<p>“I hope not, my son,” said the Colonel, gravely. “Certainly +not, if I can prevent it.” A gleam of amusement stole +into his eyes. “It’s an awkward fix, certainly,” he added.</p> + +<p>“You must conceal yourself,” cried Mrs. Stafford, as a +number of footsteps sounded on the porch, and a thundering +knock shook the door. “Come here.” She pulled him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +almost by main force into a closet or entry, and locked the +door, just as the knocking was renewed. As the door was +apparently about to be broken down, she went out into the +hall. Her face was deadly white, and her lips were moving +in prayer.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” she called, tremblingly, trying to gain +time.</p> + +<p>“Open the door immediately, or it will be broken down,” +replied a stern voice.</p> + +<p>She turned the great iron key in the heavy old brass lock, +and a dozen men rushed into the hall. They all waited for +one, a tall elderly man in a general’s fatigue uniform, and +with a stern face and a grizzled beard. He addressed her.</p> + +<p>“Madam, I have come to take possession of this house as +my headquarters.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford bowed, unable to speak. She was sensible +of a feeling of relief; there was a gleam of hope. If they did +not know of her husband’s presence—But the next word +destroyed it.</p> + +<p>“We have not interfered with you up to the present time, +but you have been harboring a spy here, and he is here +now.”</p> + +<p>“There is no spy here, and has never been,” said Mrs. +Stafford, with dignity; “but if there were, you should not +know it from me.” She spoke with much spirit. “It is not +the custom of our people to deliver up those who have sought +their protection.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>The officer removed his hat. His keen eye was fixed on +her white face. “We shall search the premises,” he said +sternly, but more respectfully than he had yet spoken. +“Major, have the house thoroughly searched.”</p> + +<p>The men went striding off, opening doors and looking +through the rooms. The General took a turn up and down +the hall. He walked up to a door.</p> + +<p>“That is my chamber,” said Mrs. Stafford, quickly.</p> + +<p>The officer fell back. “It must be searched,” he said.</p> + +<p>“My little children are asleep in there,” said Mrs. Stafford, +her face quite white.</p> + +<p>“It must be searched,” repeated the General. “Either +they must do it, or I. You can take your choice.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford made a gesture of assent. He opened the +door and stepped across the threshold. There he stopped. +His eye took in the scene. Charlie was lying in the little +trundle-bed in the corner, calm and peaceful, and by his side +was Evelyn, her little face looking like a flower lying in the +tangle of golden hair which fell over her pillow. The noise +disturbed her slightly, for she smiled suddenly, and muttered +something about “Santa Tlaus” and a “dolly.” The officer’s +gaze swept the room, and fell on the overcrowded stockings +hanging from the mantel. He advanced to the fireplace and +examined the doll and trousers closely. With a curious expression +on his face, he turned and walked out of the room, +closing the door softly behind him.</p> + +<p>“Major,” he said to the officer in charge of the searching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> +party, who descended the steps just then, “take the men back +to camp, except the sentinels. There is no spy here.” In a +moment Mrs. Stafford came out of her chamber. The old +officer was walking up and down in deep thought. Suddenly +he turned to her: “Madam, be so kind as to go and tell Colonel +Stafford that General Denby desires him to surrender +himself.” Mrs. Stafford was struck dumb. She was unable +to move or to articulate. “I shall wait for him,” said the +General, quietly, throwing himself into an arm-chair, and +looking steadily into the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p> + + +<h3>VII.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap2">AS his father concealed himself, Bob had left the chamber. +He was in a perfect agony of mind. He knew +that his father could not escape, and if he were found +dressed in citizen’s clothes he felt that he could have but one +fate. All sorts of schemes entered his boy’s head to save +him. Suddenly he thought of the small group of prisoners +he had seen pass by about dark. He would save him! Putting +on his hat, he opened the front door and walked out. +A sentinel accosted him surlily to know where he was going. +Bob invited him in to get warm, and soon had him engaged +in conversation.</p> + +<p>“What do you do with your prisoners when you catch +them?” inquired Bob.</p> + +<p>“Send some on to prison—and hang some.”</p> + +<p>“I mean when you first catch them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they stay in camp. We don’t treat ’em bad, without +they be spies. There’s a batch at camp now, got in this +evening—sort o’ Christmas gift.” The soldier laughed as +he stamped his feet to keep warm.</p> + +<p>“Where’s your camp?” Bob asked.</p> + +<p>“About a mile from here, right on the road, or rather +right on the hill at the edge of the pines ’yond the crick.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>The boy left his companion, and sauntered in and out +among the other men in the yard. Presently he moved on +to the edge of the lawn beyond them. No one took further +notice of him. In a second he had slipped through the gate, +and was flying across the field. He knew every foot of +ground as well as a hare, for he had been hunting and setting +traps over it since he was as big as little Charlie. He had +to make a detour at the creek to avoid the picket, and the +dense briers were very bad and painful. However, he worked +his way through, though his face was severely scratched. +Into the creek he plunged. “Outch!” He had stepped +into a hole, and the water was as cold as ice. However, he +was through, and at the top of the hill he could see the glow +of the camp-fires lighting up the sky.</p> + +<p>He crept cautiously up, and saw the dark forms of the +sentinels pacing backward and forward wrapped in their overcoats, +now lit up by the fire, then growing black against its +blazing embers, then lit up again, and passing away into the +shadow. How could he ever get by them? His heart +began to beat and his teeth to chatter, but he walked boldly +up.</p> + +<p>“Halt! who goes there?” cried the sentry, bringing his +gun down and advancing on him.</p> + +<p>Bob kept on, and the sentinel, finding that it was only a +boy, looked rather sheepish.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let him capture you, Jim,” called one of them; +“Call the Corporal of the Guard,” another; “Order up the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +reserves,” a third; and so on. Bob had to undergo something +of an examination.</p> + +<p>“I know the little Johnny,” said one of them.</p> + +<p>They made him draw up to the fire, and made quite a fuss +over him. Bob had his wits about him and soon learned that +a batch of prisoners were at a fire a hundred yards further +back. He therefore worked his way over there, although he +was advised to stay where he was and get dry, and had many +offers of a bunk from his new friends, some of whom followed +him over to where the prisoners were.</p> + +<p>Most of them were quartered for the night in a hut before +which a guard was stationed. One or two, however, sat +around the camp-fire, chatting with their guards. Among +them was a major in full uniform. Bob singled him out; he +was just about his father’s size.</p> + +<p>He was instantly the centre of attraction. Again he told +them he was from Holly Hill; again he was recognized by +one of the men.</p> + +<p>“Run away to join the army?” asked one.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Bob, his eyes flashing at the suggestion.</p> + +<p>“Lost?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Mother whipped you?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>As soon as their curiosity had somewhat subsided, Bob, +who had hardly been able to contain himself, said to the +Confederate major in a low undertone:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>“My father, Colonel Stafford, is at home, concealed, and +the Yankees have taken possession of the house.”</p> + +<p>“Well?” said the major, looking down at him as if +casually.</p> + +<p>“He cannot escape, and he has on citizen’s clothes, +and—” Bob’s voice choked suddenly as he gazed at the +major’s uniform.</p> + +<p>“Well?” The prisoner for a second looked sharply down +at the boy’s earnest face. Then he put his hand under his +chin, and lifting it, looked into his eyes. Bob shivered and +a sob escaped him.</p> + +<p>The major placed his hand firmly on his knee. “Why, +you are wringing wet,” he said, aloud. “I wonder you are +not frozen to death.” He rose and stripped off his coat. +“Here, get into this;” and before the boy knew it the major +had bundled him into his coat, and rolled up the sleeves so +that Bob could use his hands. The action attracted the +attention of the rest of the group, and several of the Yankees +offered to take the boy and give him dry clothes.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” laughed the major; “this boy is a rebel. Do +you think he will wear one of your Yankee suits? He’s a +little major, and I’m going to give him a major’s uniform.”</p> + +<p>In a minute he had stripped off his trousers, and was +helping Bob into them, standing himself in his underclothes +in the icy air. The legs were three times too long for the +boy, and the waist came up to his armpits.</p> + +<p>“Now go home to your mother,” said the major, laughing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> +at his appearance; “and some of you fellows get me some +clothes or a blanket. I’ll wear your Yankee uniform out of +sheer necessity.”</p> + +<p>Bob trotted around, keeping as far away from the light +of the camp-fires as possible. He soon found himself unobserved, +and reached the shadow of a line of huts, and keeping +well in it, he came to the edge of the camp. He watched his +opportunity, and when the sentry’s back was turned slipped +out into the darkness. In an instant he was flying down the +hill. The heavy clothes impeded him, and he stopped only +long enough to snatch them off and roll them into a bundle, +and sped on his way again. He struck the main road, and +was running down the hill as fast as his legs could carry him, +when he suddenly found himself almost on a group of dark +objects who were standing in the road just in front of him. +One of them moved. It was the picket. Bob suddenly +stopped. His heart was in his throat.</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” said a stern voice. Bob’s heart beat +as if it would spring out of his body.</p> + +<p>“Come in; we have you,” said the man, advancing.</p> + +<p>Bob sprang across the ditch beside the road, and putting +his hand on the top rail of the fence, flung himself over it, +bundle and all, flat on the other side, just as a blaze of light +burst from the picket, and the report of a carbine startled the +silent night. The bullet grazed the boy’s arm, and crashed +through the rail. In a second Bob was on his feet. The +picket was almost on him. Seizing his bundle, he dived into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> +the thicket as a half-dozen shots were sent ringing after him, +the bullets hissing and whistling over his head. Several men +dashed into the woods after him in hot pursuit, and a couple +more galloped up the road to intercept him; but Bob’s feet +were winged, and he slipped through briers and brush like a +scared hare. They scratched his face and threw him down, +but he was up again. Now and then a shot crashed behind +him, but he did not care for that; he thought only of being +caught.</p> + +<p>A few hundred yards up, he plunged into the stream, and +wading across, was soon safe from his pursuers. Breathless, +he climbed the hill, made his way through the woods, and +emerged into the open fields. Across these he sped like a +deer. He had almost given out. What if they should have +caught his father, and he should be too late! A sob escaped +him at the bare thought, and he broke again into a run, +wiping off with his sleeve the tears that would come. The +wind cut him like a knife, but he did not mind that.</p> + +<p>As he neared the house he feared that he might be intercepted +again and the clothes taken from him, so he stopped +for a moment, and slipped them on once more, rolling up the +sleeves and legs as well as he could. He crossed the yard +undisturbed. He went around to the same door by which +he had come out, for he thought this his best chance. The +same sentinel was there, walking up and down, blowing his +cold hands. Had his father been arrested? Bob’s teeth +chattered, but it was with suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>“Pretty cold,” said the sentry.</p> + +<p>“Ye—es,” gasped Bob.</p> + +<p>“Your mother’s been out here, looking for you, I guess,” +said the soldier, with much friendliness.</p> + +<p>“I rec—reckon so,” panted Bob, moving toward the door. +Did that mean that his father was caught? He opened the +door, and slipped quietly into the corridor.</p> + +<p>General Denby still sat silent before the hall fire. Bob +listened at the chamber door. His mother was weeping; his +father stood calm and resolute before the fire. He had +determined to give himself up.</p> + +<p>“If you only did not have on those clothes!” sobbed +Mrs. Stafford. “If I only had not cut up the old uniform +for the children!”</p> + +<p>“Mother! mother! I have one!” gasped Bob, bursting +into the room and tearing off the unknown major’s uniform.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span></p> + +<h3>VIII.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">TEN minutes later Colonel Stafford, with a steady step +and a proud carriage, and with his hand resting on +Bob’s shoulder, walked out into the hall. He was +dressed in the uniform of a Confederate major, which fitted +admirably his tall, erect figure.</p> + +<p>“General Denby, I believe,” he said, as the Union officer +rose and faced him. “We have met before under somewhat +different circumstances,” he said, with a bow, “for I now find +myself your prisoner.”</p> + +<p>“I have the honor to request your parole,” said the +General, with great politeness, “and to express the hope that +I may be able in some way to return the courtesy which I +formerly received at your hands.” He extended his hand +and Colonel Stafford took it.</p> + +<p>“You have my parole,” said he.</p> + +<p>“I was not aware,” said the General, with a bow +toward Mrs. Stafford, “until I entered the room where your +children were sleeping, that I had the honor of your husband’s +acquaintance. I will now take my leave and return to +camp, that I may not by my presence interfere with the joy +of this season.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>“I desire to introduce to you my son,” said Colonel +Stafford, proudly presenting Bob. “He is a hero.”</p> + +<p>The General bowed as he shook hands with him. Perhaps +he had some suspicion how true a hero he was, for he +rested his hand kindly on the boy’s head, but he said +nothing.</p> + +<p>Both Colonel and Mrs. Stafford invited the old soldier +to spend the night there, but he declined. He, however, +accepted an invitation to dine with them next day.</p> + +<p>Before leaving, he requested permission to take one more +look at the sleeping children. Over Evelyn he bent silently. +Suddenly stooping, he kissed her little pink cheek, and with +a scarcely audible “Good-night,” passed out of the room and +left the house.</p> + +<p>The next morning, by light, there was great rejoicing. +Charlie and Evelyn were up betimes, and were laughing and +chattering over their presents like two little magpies.</p> + +<p>“Here’s my sword and here’s my breeches,” cried Charlie, +“two pair; but I’m goin’ to put on my gray ones. I ain’t +goin’ to wear a blue uniform.”</p> + +<p>“Here’s my dolly!” screamed Evelyn, in an ecstasy over +her beautiful present. And presently Bob and Ran burst in, +their eyes fairly dancing.</p> + +<p>“Christmas gift! It’s a real one—real gold!” cried Bob, +holding up a small gold watch, whilst Ran was shouting over +a silver one of the same size.</p> + +<p>That evening, after dinner, General Denby was sitting by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> +the fire in the Holly Hill parlor, with Evelyn nestled in his +lap, her dolly clasped close to her bosom, and in the absence +of Colonel Stafford, told Mrs. Stafford the story of the opening +of the package by the camp-fire. The tears welled up +into Mrs. Stafford’s eyes and ran down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Charlie suddenly entered, in all the majesty of his new +breeches, and sword buckled on hip. He saw his mother’s +tears. His little face flushed. In a second his sword was +out, and he struck a hostile attitude.</p> + +<p>“You sha’n’t make my mamma cry!” he shouted.</p> + +<p>“Charlie! Charlie!” cried Mrs. Stafford, hastening to +stop him.</p> + +<p>“My papa said I was not to let any one make you cry,” +insisted the boy, stepping before his mother, and still keeping +his angry eyes on the General.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Charlie!” Mrs. Stafford took hold of him. “I am +ashamed of you!—to be so rude!”</p> + +<p>“Let him alone, madam,” said the General. “It is not +rudeness; it is spirit—the spirit of our race. He has the +soldier’s blood, and some day he will be a soldier himself, +and a brave one. I shall count on him for the Union,” he +said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stafford shook her head.</p> + +<p>A few days later, Colonel Stafford, in accordance with +an understanding, came over to General Denby’s camp, and +reported to be sent on to Washington as a prisoner of war. +The General was absent on the lines at the time, but was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> +expected soon, and the Colonel waited for him at his headquarters. +There had been many tears shed when his wife +bade him good-by.</p> + +<p>About an hour after the Colonel arrived, the General and +his staff were riding back to camp along the road which ran +by the Holly Hill gate. Just before they reached it, two +little figures came out of the gate and started down the road. +One was a boy of five, who carried a toy sword, drawn, in +one hand, whilst with the other he led his companion, a little +girl of three, who clasped a large yellow-haired doll to her +breast.</p> + +<p>The soldiers cantered forward and overtook them.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going, my little people?” inquired the +General, gazing down at them affectionately.</p> + +<p>“I’m goin’ to get my papa,” said the tiny swordsman +firmly, turning a sturdy and determined little face up to him. +“My mamma’s cryin’, an’ I’m goin’ to take my papa home. +I ain’ goin’ to let the Yankees have him.”</p> + +<p>The officers all broke into a murmur of mingled admiration +and amusement.</p> + +<p>“No, we ain’ goin’ let the Yankees have our papa,” +chimed in Evelyn, pushing her tangled hair out of her eyes, +and keeping fast hold of Charlie’s hand for fear of the horses +around her.</p> + +<p>The General dismounted.</p> + +<p>“How are you going to help, my little Semiramis?” he +asked, stooping over her with smiling eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>“I’m goin’ to give my dolly if they will give me my +papa,” she said, gravely, as if she understood the equality of +the exchange.</p> + +<p>“Suppose you give a kiss instead?” There was a second +of hesitation, and then she put up her little face, and +the old General dropped on one knee in the road and lifted +her in his arms, doll and all.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” he said to his staff, “you behold the future +defenders of the Union.”</p> + +<p>The little ones were coaxed home, and that afternoon, as +Colonel Stafford was expecting to leave the camp for Washington +with a lot of prisoners, a despatch was brought in to +General Denby, who read it.</p> + +<p>“Colonel,” he said, addressing him, “I think I shall have +to continue your parole a few days longer. I have just +received information that, by a special cartel which I have +arranged, you are to be exchanged for Colonel McDowell as +soon as he can reach the lines at this point from Richmond; +and meantime, as we have but indifferent accommodations +here, I shall have to request you to consider Holly Hill as +your place of confinement. Will you be so kind as to convey +my respects to Mrs. Stafford, and to your young hero +Bob, and make good my word to those two little commissioners +of exchange, to whom I feel somewhat committed? +I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[39-40]</span> +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i056"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i056.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“WHAT YOU CHILDREN GWINE DO WID DAT LITTLE CAT?” ASKED MAMMY, SEVERELY.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="tb"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> +<h2 class="nobreak">KITTYKIN, AND THE PART SHE PLAYED +IN THE WAR.</h2> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">KITTYKIN played a part in the war which has never +been recorded. Her name does not appear in the +list of any battle; nor is she mentioned in any history +as having saved a life, or as having done anything remarkable +one way or the other. Yet, in fact, she played a most +important part: she prevented a battle which was just going +to begin, and brought about a truce between the skirmish lines +of the Union and the Confederate troops near her home +which lasted several weeks, and probably saved many lives.</p> + +<p>There never was a kitten more highly prized than Kittykin, +for Evelyn had long wanted a kitten, and the way she +found her was so delightfully unexpected.</p> + +<p>It was during the war, when everything was very scarce +down in the South where Evelyn lived. “We don’t have +any coffee, or any kittens, or <i>any</i>thing,” Evelyn said one day +to some soldiers who had come to her home from their camp, +which was a mile or so away. You would have thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +from the way she put them together that kittens, like coffee, +were something to have on the table; but she had heard her +mamma wishing for coffee at breakfast that morning, and she +herself had long been wanting a kitten. Indeed, she used to +ask for one in her prayers.</p> + +<p>Evelyn had no fancy for anything that, in her own words, +“was not live.” A thing that had life was of more value in +her eyes than all the toys that were ever given her. A +young bird which, too fat to fly, had fallen from the nest, or +a broken-legged chicken, which was too lame to keep up with +its mother, had her tenderest care; a little mouse slipping +along the wainscot or playing on the carpet excited her liveliest +interest; but a kitten, a “real live kittykin,” she had +never possessed, though for a long time she had set her +heart on having one. One day, however, she was out walking +with her mammy in the “big road,” when she met several +small negro children coming along, and one of them had a +little bit of a white kitten squeezed up in his arm. It looked +very scared, and every now and then it cried “Mew, +mew.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, mammy, look at that dear little kittykin!” cried +Evelyn, running up to the children and stroking the little +mite tenderly.</p> + +<p>“What you children gwine do wid dat little cat?” asked +mammy, severely.</p> + +<p>“We gwine <i>loss</i> it,” said the boy who had it, promptly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mammy, don’t let them do that! Don’t let them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> +hurt it!” pleaded Evelyn, turning to her mammy. “It would +get so hungry.”</p> + +<p>A sudden thought struck her, and she sprang over toward +the boy, and took the kitten from him, which instantly curled +up in her arms just as close to her as it could get. There +was no resisting her appeal, and a minute later she was running +home far ahead of her mammy, with the kitten hugged +tight in her arms. Her mamma was busy in the sitting-room +when Evelyn came rushing in.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mamma, see what I have! A dear little kittykin! +Can’t I have it? They were just going to throw it away, and +lose it all by itself;” and she began to jump up and down +and rub the kitten against her little pink cheek, till her mother +had to take hold of her to quiet her excitement.</p> + +<p>Kittykin (for that was the name she had received) must +have misunderstood the action, and have supposed she was +going to take her from her young mistress, for she suddenly +bunched herself up into a little white ball, and gave such a +spit at Evelyn’s mamma that the lady jumped back nearly a +yard, after which Kittykin quietly curled herself up again in +Evelyn’s arm. The next thing was to give her some warm +milk, which she drank as if she had not had a mouthful all +day; and then she was put to sleep in a basket of wool, where +Evelyn looked at her a hundred times to see how she was +coming on.</p> + +<p>Evelyn never doubted after that that if she prayed for a +thing she would get it; for she had been praying all the time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +for a “little white kitten,” and not only was Kittykin as white +as snow, but she was, to use Evelyn’s words, “even littler” +than she had expected. There could not, to her mind, be +stronger proof.</p> + +<p>As Kittykin grew a little she developed a temper entirely +out of proportion to her size; when she got mad, she got +mad all over. If anything offended her she would suddenly +back up into a corner, her tail would get about twice as large +as usual, and she would spit like a little fury. However, she +never fought her little mistress, and even in her worst moments +she would allow Evelyn to take her and lay her on her +back in the little cradle she had, or carry her by the neck, or +the legs, or almost any way except by the tail. To pull her +tail was a liberty she never would allow even Evelyn to take. +If she was held by the tail her little pink claws flew out as +quick as a wink and as sharp as needles. Evelyn was very +kind to Kittykin, however, and was careful not to provoke +her, for she had been told that getting angry and kicking on +the floor, as she herself sometimes did when mammy wanted +to comb her curly hair, would make an ugly little girl, and of +course it would have the same effect on a kitten.</p> + +<p>Fierce, however, as Kittykin was, it soon appeared that +she was the greatest little coward in the world. A worm in +the walk or a little beetle running across the floor would set +her to jumping as if she had a fit, and the first time she ever +saw a mouse she was far more afraid of it than it was of her. +If it had been a rat, I am sure that she would have died.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>One day Evelyn was sitting on the floor in her mother’s +chamber sewing a little blue bag, which she said was her +work-bag, when a tiny mouse ran, like a little gray shadow, +across the hearth. Kittykin was at the moment busily engaged +in rolling about a ball of yarn almost as white as herself, +and the first thing Evelyn knew she gave a jump like a +trap-ball, and slid up the side of the bureau like a little shaft +of light, where she stood with all four feet close together, her +small back roached up in an arch, her tail all fuzzed up over +it, and her mouth wide open and spitting like a little demon. +She looked so funny that Evelyn dropped her sewing, and +the mouse, frightened half out of its little wits, took advantage +of her consternation to make a rush back to its hole +under the wainscoting, into which it dived like a little duck. +After holding her lofty position for some time, Kittykin let +her hairs fall and lowered her back, but every now and then +she would raise them again at the bare thought of the awful +animal which had so terrified her. At length she decided +that she might go down; but how was she to do it? Smooth +though the mahogany was, she had, under excitement, gone +up like a streak of lightning; but now when she was cool she +was afraid to jump down. It was so high that it made her +head swim; so, after walking timidly around and peeping +over at the floor, she began to cry for some one to take her +down, just as Evelyn would have done under the same +circumstances.</p> + +<p>Evelyn tried to coax her down, but she would not come;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> +so finally she had to drag a chair up to the bureau and get +up on it to reach her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the fright she experienced when she found +herself up so high that caused Kittykin to revenge herself on +the little mouse shortly afterward, or perhaps it was only her +cat instinct developing; but it was only a short time after +this that Kittykin did an act which grieved her little mistress +dreadfully. The little mouse had lived under the wainscot +since long before Kittykin had come, and it and Evelyn were +on very good terms. It would come out and dash along by +the wall to the wardrobe, under which it would disappear, and +after staying there some time it would hurry back. This +Evelyn used to call “paying visits;” and she often wondered +what mice talked about when they got together under the +wardrobe. Or sometimes it would slip out and frisk around +on the floor—“just playing,” as Evelyn said. There was a +perfect understanding between them: Evelyn was not to hurt +the mouse nor let mammy set a trap for it, and the mouse was +not to bite Evelyn’s clothes—but if it had to cut at all, was +to confine itself to her mamma’s. After Kittykin came, however, +the mouse appeared to be much less sociable than formerly; +and after the occasion when it alarmed Kittykin so, it +did not come out again for a long time. Evelyn used to +wonder if its mamma was keeping it in.</p> + +<p>One day, however, Evelyn was sewing, and Kittykin was +lying by, when she suddenly seemed to get tired of doing +nothing, and began to walk about.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>“Lie down, Kittykin,” said her mistress; but Kittykin did +not appear to hear. She just lowered her head, and peeped +under the bureau, with her eyes set in a curious way. Presently +she stooped very low, and slid along the floor without +making the slightest noise, every now and then stopping perfectly +still. Evelyn watched her closely, for she had never +seen her act so before. Suddenly, however, Kittykin gave a +spring, and disappeared under the bureau. Evelyn heard a +little squeak, and the next minute Kittykin walked out with +a little mouse in her mouth, over which she was growling like +a little tigress. Evelyn was jumping up to take it away from +her when Kittykin, who had gone out into the middle of the +room, turned it loose herself, and quietly walking away, lay +down as if she were going to sleep. Then Evelyn saw that +she did not mean to hurt it, so she sat and watched the +mouse, which remained quite still for some time.</p> + +<p>After a while it moved a little, to see if Kittykin was really +asleep. Kittykin did not stir. Her eyes were fast shut, and +the mouse seemed satisfied; so, after waiting a bit, it made a +little dash toward the bureau. In a single bound Kittykin +was right over it, and had laid her white paw on it. She did +not, however, appear to intend it any injury, but began to +play with it just as Evelyn would have liked to do; and, lying +down, she rolled over and over, holding it up and tossing it +gently, quite as Evelyn sometimes did her, or patting it and +admiring it as if it had been the sweetest little mouse in the +world. The mouse, too, appeared not to mind it the least<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> +bit; and Evelyn was just thinking how nice it was that Kittykin +and it had become such friends, and was planning nice +games with them, when there was a faint little squeak, and +she saw Kittykin, who had just been petting the little creature, +suddenly drive her sharp white teeth into its neck.</p> + +<p>Evelyn rushed at her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you wicked Kittykin! Aren’t you ashamed of +yourself?” she cried, catching her up by the tail and shaking +her well, as the best way to punish her.</p> + +<p>Just then her mamma entered. “Oh, Evelyn, why are +you treating kitty so?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Because she’s so mean,” said Evelyn, severely. “She’s +a murderer.”</p> + +<p>Her mamma tried to explain that killing the mouse was +Kittykin’s nature; but Evelyn could not see that this made it +any the less painful, and she was quite cool to Kittykin for +some time.</p> + +<p>The little mouse was buried that evening in a matchbox +under a rose-bush in the garden; and Kittykin, in a black rag +which was tied around her as a dress, was compelled, evidently +much against her will, to do penance by acting as chief +mourner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">KITTYKIN was about five months old when there was a +great marching of soldiers backward and forward; the +tents in the field beyond the woods were taken down +and carried away in wagons, and there was an immense stir. +The army was said to be “moving.” There were rumors +that the enemy was coming, and that there might be a battle +near there. Evelyn was so young that she did not understand +any more of it than Kittykin did; but her mother +appeared so troubled that Evelyn knew it was very bad, +and became frightened, though she did not know why. Her +mammy soon gave her such a gloomy account, that Evelyn +readily agreed with her that it was “like torment.” As for +Kittykin, if she had been born in a battle, she could not have +been more unconcerned. In a day or two it was known that +the main body of the army was some little way off on a long +ridge, and that the enemy had taken up its position on +another hill not far distant, and Evelyn’s home was between +them; but there was no battle. Each army began to +intrench itself; and in a little while there was a long red +bank stretched across the far edge of the great field behind +the house, which Evelyn was told was “breastworks” for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> +picket line, and she pointed them out to Kittykin, who +blinked and yawned as if she did not care the least bit if +they were.</p> + +<p>Next morning a small squadron of cavalry came galloping +by. A body of the enemy had been seen, and they were +going to learn what it meant. In a little while they came +back.</p> + +<p>“The enemy,” they said, “were advancing, and there +would probably be a skirmish right there immediately.”</p> + +<p>As they rode by, they urged Evelyn’s mamma either to +leave the house at once or to go down into the basement, +where they might be safe from the bullets. Then they galloped +on across the field to get the rest of their men, who +were in the trenches beyond. Before they reached there a +lot of men appeared on the edge of the wood in front of the +house. No one could tell how many they were; but the sun +gleamed on their arms, and there was evidently a good force. +At first they were on horseback; but there was a “Bop! +bop!” from the trenches in the field behind the house, and +they rode back, and did not come out any more. Next +morning, however, they too had dug a trench. These, +Evelyn heard some one say, were a picket line. About +eleven o’clock they came out into the field, and they seemed +to have spread themselves out behind a little rise or knoll +in front of the house. Mammy’s teeth were just chattering, +and she went to moaning and saying her prayers as hard +as she could, and Evelyn’s mamma told her to take Evelyn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +down into the basement, and she would bring the baby; so +mammy, who had been following mamma about, seized +Evelyn, and rushed with her down-stairs, where, although +they were quite safe, as the windows were only half above +the ground, she fell on her face on the floor, praying as if +her last hour had come. “Bop! bop!” went some muskets +up behind the house. “Bang! bop! bang!” went some on +the other side.</p> + +<p>Evelyn suddenly remembered Kittykin. “Where was +she?” The last time she had seen her was a half-hour +before, when she had been lying curled up on the back steps +fast asleep in the sun. Suppose she should be there now, +she would certainly be killed, for the back steps ran right out +into the yard so as to be just the place for Kittykin to be +shot. So thought Evelyn. “Bang! bang!” went the guns +again—somewhere. Evelyn dragged a chair up to a window +and looked. Her heart almost stopped; for there, out in +the yard, quite clear of the houses, was Kittykin, standing +some way up the trunk of a tall locust-tree, looking curiously +around. Her little white body shone like a small patch of +snow against the dark brown bark. Evelyn sprang down +from the chair, and forgetting everything, rushed through +the entry and out of doors.</p> + +<p>“Kitty, kitty, kitty!” she called. “Kittykin, come here! +You’ll be killed! Come here, Kittykin!”</p> + +<p>Kittykin, however, was in for a game, and as her little +mistress, with her golden hair flying in the breeze, ran toward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> +her, she rushed scampering still higher up the tree. Evelyn +could see that there were some men scattered out in the +fields on either side of her, some of them stooping, and some +lying down, and as she ran on toward the tree she heard a +“Bang! bang!” on each side, and she saw little puffs of +white smoke, and something went “Zoo-ee-ee” up in the air; +but she did not think about herself, she was so frightened for +Kittykin.</p> + +<p>“Kitty, kitty! Come down, Kittykin!” she called, running +up to the tree and holding up her arms to her. Kittykin +might, perhaps, have liked to come down now, but she +could no longer do so; she was too high up. She looked +down, first over one shoulder, and then over the other, but it +was too high to jump. She could not turn around, and her +head began to swim. She grew so dizzy, she was afraid she +might fall, so she dug her little sharp claws into the bark, +and began to cry.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[53-54]</span></p> +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i070"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i070.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“I WANT MY KITTYKIN,” SAID EVELYN.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>Evelyn would have run back to tell her mamma (who, +having sent the baby down-stairs to mammy, was still busy +up-stairs trying to hide some things, and so did not know she +was out in the yard); but she was so afraid Kittykin might +be killed that she could not let her get out of her sight. +Indeed, she was so absorbed in Kittykin that she forgot +all about everything else. She even forgot all about the +soldiers. But though she did not notice the soldiers, it +seemed that some of them had observed her. Just as the +leader of the Confederate picket line was about to give an +order to make a dash for the houses in the yard, to his horror +he saw a little girl in a white dress and with flying hair +suddenly run out into the clear space right between him and +the soldiers on the other side, and stop under a tree just in +the line of their fire. His heart jumped into his mouth as he +sprang to his feet and waved his hands wildly to call attention +to the child. Then shouting to his men to stop firing, +he walked out in front of the line, and came at a rapid stride +down the slope. The others all stood still and almost held +their breaths for fear some one would shoot; but no one did. +Evelyn was so busy trying to coax Kittykin down that she +did not notice anything until she heard some one call out:</p> + +<p>“For Heaven’s sake, run into the house, quick!”</p> + +<p>She looked around and saw the gentleman hurrying +toward her. He appeared to be very much excited.</p> + +<p>“What on earth are you doing out here?” he gasped, as +he came running up to her.</p> + +<p>He was a young man, with just a little light mustache, +and with a little gold braid on the sleeves of his gray jacket; +and though he seemed very much surprised, he looked very +kind.</p> + +<p>“I want my Kittykin,” said Evelyn, answering him, and +looking up the tree, with a little wave of her hand, towards +where Kittykin still clung tightly. Somehow she felt at the +moment that this gentleman could help her better than any +one else.</p> + +<p>Kittykin, however, apparently thought differently about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +it; for she suddenly stopped mewing; and as if she felt it +unsafe to be so near a stranger, she climbed carefully up +until she reached a limb, in the crotch of which she ensconced +herself, and peeped curiously over at them with a +look of great satisfaction in her face, as much as to say, +“Now I’m safe. I’d like to see you get me.”</p> + +<p>The gentleman was stroking Evelyn’s hair, and was +looking at her very intently, when a voice called to him +from the other side:</p> + +<p>“Hello, Johnny! what’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>Evelyn looked around, and saw another gentleman coming +toward them. He was older than the first one, and had on a +blue coat, while the first had on a gray one. She knew one +was a Confederate and the other was a Yankee, and for a +second she was afraid they might shoot each other, but her +first friend called out:</p> + +<p>“Her kitten is up the tree. Come ahead!”</p> + +<p>He came on, and looked for a second up at Kittykin, but +he looked at Evelyn really hard, and suddenly stooped down, +and putting his arm around her, drew her up to him. She got +over her fear in a minute.</p> + +<p>“Kittykin’s up there, and I’m afraid she’ll be kilt.” She +waved her hand up over her head, where Kittykin was taking +occasion to put a few more limbs between herself and the +enemy.</p> + +<p>“It’s rather a dangerous place when the boys are out +hunting, eh, Johnny?” He laughed as he stood up again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>“Yes, for as big a fellow as you. You wouldn’t stand the +ghost of a show.”</p> + +<p>“I guess I’d feel small enough up there.” And both +men laughed.</p> + +<p>By this time the men on both sides began to come up, +with their guns over their arms.</p> + +<p>“Hello! what’s up?” some of them called out.</p> + +<p>“Her kitten’s up,” said the first two; and, to make good +their words, Kittykin, not liking so many people below her, +shifted her position again, and went up to a fresh limb, from +which she again peeped over at them. The men all gathered +around Evelyn, and began to talk to her, and both she and +Kittykin were surprised to hear them joking and laughing +together in the friendliest way.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing out here?” they asked; and to all +she made the same reply:</p> + +<p>“I want my Kittykin.”</p> + +<p>Suddenly her mamma came out. She had just gone +down-stairs, and had learned where Evelyn was. The two +officers went up and spoke to her, but the men still crowded +around Evelyn.</p> + +<p>“She’ll come down,” said one. “All you have to do is +to let her alone.”</p> + +<p>“No, she won’t. She can’t come down. It makes her +head swim,” said Evelyn.</p> + +<p>“That’s true,” thought Kittykin up in the tree, and to let +them understand it she gave a little “Mew.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>“I don’t see how anything can swim when it’s as dry as +it is around here,” said a fellow in gray.</p> + +<p>A man in blue handed him his canteen, which he at once +accepted, and after surprising Evelyn by smelling it—which +she knew was dreadfully bad manners—turned it up to his +lips. She heard the liquid gurgling.</p> + +<p>As he handed it back to its owner he said: “Yank, I’m +mighty glad I didn’t shoot you. I might have hit that canteen.” +At which there was a laugh, and the canteen went +around until it was empty. Suddenly Kittykin from her high +perch gave a faint “Mew,” which said, as plainly as words +could say it, that she wanted to get down and could not.</p> + +<p>Evelyn’s big brown eyes filled with tears. “I want my +Kittykin,” she said, her little lip trembling.</p> + +<p>Instantly a dozen men unbuckled their belts, laid their +guns on the ground, and pulled off their coats, each one trying +to be the first to climb the tree. It was, however, too +large for them to reach far enough around to get a good +hold on it, so climbing it was found to be far more difficult +than it looked to be.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you cut it down?” asked some one.</p> + +<p>But Evelyn cried out that that would kill Kittykin, so +the man who suggested it was called a fool by the others. +At last it was proposed that one man should stand against +the tree and another should climb up on his shoulders, when +he might get his arms far enough around it to work his way +up. A stout fellow with a gray jacket on planted himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> +firmly against the trunk, and one who had taken off a blue +jacket climbed up on his shoulders, and might have got up +very well if he had not remarked that as the Johnnies had +walked over him in the last battle, it was but fair that he +should now walk over a Johnny. This joke tickled the man +under him so that he slipped away and let him down. At +length, however, three or four men got good “holds,” and +went slowly up one after the other amid such encouraging +shouts from their friends on the ground below as: “Go it, +Yank, the Johnny’s almost got you!” “Look out, Johnny, +the Yanks are right behind you!” etc., whilst Kittykin gazed +down in astonishment from above, and Evelyn looked up +breathless from below. With much pulling and kicking, +four men finally got up to the lowest limb, after which the +climbing was comparatively easy. A new difficulty, however, +presented itself. Kittykin suddenly took alarm, and +retreated still higher up among the branches.</p> + +<p>The higher they climbed after that, the higher she climbed, +until she was away up on one of the topmost boughs, which +was far too slender for any one to follow her. There she +turned and looked back with alternate alarm and satisfaction +expressed in her countenance. If the men stirred, she stood +ready to fly; if they kept still, she settled down and mewed +plaintively. Once or twice as they moved she took fright +and looked almost as if about to jump.</p> + +<p>Evelyn was breathless with excitement. “Don’t let her +jump,” she called, “she will get kilt!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>The men, too, were anxious to prevent that. They called +to her, held out their hands, and coaxed her in every tone by +which a kitten is supposed to be influenced. But it was all +in vain. No cajoleries, no promises, no threats, were of the +least avail. Kittykin was there safe, out of their reach, and +there she would remain, sixty feet above the ground. Suddenly +she saw that something was occurring below. She saw +the men all gather around her little mistress, and could hear +her at first refuse to let something be done, and then consent. +She could not make out what it was, though she strained her +ears. She remembered to have heard mammy tell her little +mistress once that “curiosity had killed a cat,” and she was +afraid to think too much about it so high up in the tree. Still +when she heard an order given, “Go back and get your blankets,” +and saw a whole lot of the men go running off into the +field on either side, and presently come back with their arms +full of blankets, she could not help wondering what they were +going to do. They at once began to unroll the blankets and +hold them open all around the tree, until a large circle of the +ground was quite hidden.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said Kittykin, “it’s a wicked trap!” and she dug +her little claws deep into the bark, and made up her mind +that nothing should induce her to jump. Presently she heard +the soldiers in the tree under her call to those on the +ground:</p> + +<p>“Are you ready?”</p> + +<p>And they said, “All right!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>“Ah!” said Kittykin, “they cannot get down, either. +Serves them right!”</p> + +<p>But suddenly they all waved their arms at her and cried, +“Scat!”</p> + +<p>Goodness! The idea of crying “scat” at a kitten when +she is up in a tree!—“scat,” which fills a kitten’s breast with +terror! It was brutal, and then it was all so unexpected. It +came very near making her fall. As it was, it set her heart +to thumping and bumping against her ribs, like a marble in +a box. “Ah!” she thought, “if those brutes below were but +mice, and I had them on the carpet!” So she dug her claws +into the bark, which was quite tender up there, and it was +well she did, for she heard some one call something below +that sounded like “Shake!” and before she knew it the man +nearest her reached up, and, seizing the limb on which she +was, screwed up his face, and—Goodness! it nearly shook +the teeth out of her mouth and the eyes out of her head.</p> + +<p>Shake! shake! shake! it came again, each time nearly +tearing her little claws out of their sockets and scaring her to +death. She saw the ground swim far below her, and felt that +she would be mashed to death. Shake! shake! shake! shake! +She could not hold out much longer, and she spat down at +them. How those brutes below laughed! She formed a +desperate resolve. She would get even with them. “Ah, if +they were but—” Shake! sha— With a fierce spit, partly +of rage, partly of fear, Kittykin let go, whirled suddenly, and +flung herself on the upturned face of the man next beneath<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> +her, from him to the man below him, and finally, digging her +little claws deep in his flesh, sprang with a wild leap clear of +the boughs, and shot whizzing out into the air, whilst the two +men, thrown off their guard by the suddenness of the attack, +loosed their hold, and went crashing down into the forks upon +those below.</p> + +<p>The first thing Evelyn and the men on the ground knew +was the crash of the falling men and the sight of Kittykin +coming whizzing down, her little claws clutching wildly at +the air. Before they could see what she was, she gave a +bounce like a trap-ball as high as a man’s head, and then, +as she touched the ground again, shot like a wild sky-rocket +hissing across the yard, and, with her tail all crooked to +one side and as big as her body, vanished under the house. +Oh, such a shout as there was from the soldiers! Evelyn +heard them yelling as she ran off after Kittykin to see if +she wasn’t dead. They fairly howled with delight as the +men in the tree, with scratched faces and torn clothes, came +crawling down. They looked very sheepish as they landed +among their comrades; but the question whether Kittykin +had landed in a blanket or had hit the solid ground fifty +feet out somewhat relieved them. They all agreed that she +had bounced twenty feet.</p> + +<p>Why Kittykin was not killed outright was a marvel. One +of her eyes was a little bunged up, the claws on three of her +feet were loosened, and for a week she felt as if she had been +run through a sausage mill; but she never lost any of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> +speed. Ever afterward when she saw a soldier she would run +for life, and hide as far back under the house as she could +get, with her eyes shining like two little live coals.</p> + +<p>For some time, indeed, she lived in perpetual terror, for +the soldiers of both lines used to come up to the house, as +the friendship they formed that day never was changed, and +though they remained on the two opposite hills for quite a +while, they never fired a shot at each other. They used instead +to meet and exchange tobacco and coffee, and laugh +over the way Kittykin routed their joint forces in the tree +the day of the skirmish.</p> + +<p>As for Kittykin, she never put on any airs about it. She +did not care for that sort of glory. She never afterward +could tolerate a tree; the earth was good enough for her; +and the highest she ever climbed was up in her little mistress’s +lap.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span></p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">“NANCY PANSY.”</h2> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">“NANCY PANSY” was what Middleburgh called her, +though the parish register of baptism contained +nothing nearer the name than that of one Anne, +daughter of Baylor Seddon, Esq., and Ellenor his wife. +Whatever the register may have thought about it, “Nancy +Pansy” was what Middleburgh called her, and she looked so +much like a cherub, with her great eyes laughing up at you +and her tangles blowing all about her dimpling pink face, +that Dr. Spotswood Hunter, or “the Old Doctor,” as he +was known to Middleburgh, used to vow she had gotten out +of Paradise by mistake that Christmas Eve.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy was the idol of the old doctor, as the old +doctor was the idol of Middleburgh. He had given her a +doll baby on the day she was born, and he always brought +her one on her birthday, though, of course, the first three or +four which he gave her were of rubber, because as long as +she was a little girl she used to chew her doll after a most +cannibal-like fashion, she and Harry’s puppies taking turn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> +and turn about at chewing in the most impartial and +friendly way. Harry was the old doctor’s son. As she grew +a little older, however, the doctor brought her better dolls; +but the puppies got older faster than Nancy Pansy, and kept +on chewing up her dolls, so they did not last very long, +which, perhaps, was why she never had a “real live doll,” as +she called it.</p> + +<p>Some people said the reason the old doctor was so fond +of Nancy Pansy was because he had been a lover of her +beautiful aunt, whose picture as Charity giving Bread to the +Poor Woman and her Children was in the stained-glass window +in the church, with the Advent angel in the panel below, +to show that she had died at Christmas-tide and was an angel +herself now; some said it was because he had had a little +daughter himself who had died when a wee bit of a girl, +and Nancy Pansy reminded him of her; some said it was +because his youngest born, his boy Harry, with the light +hair, who now commanded a company in the Army of Northern +Virginia, was so fond of Nancy Pansy’s lovely sister +Ellen; some said it was because the old doctor was fond of +all children; but the old doctor said it was “because Nancy +Pansy was Nancy Pansy,” and looked like an angel, and had +more sense than anybody in Middleburgh, except his old +sorrel horse Slouch, who, he always maintained, had sense +enough to have prevented the war if he had been consulted.</p> + +<p>Whatever was the cause, Nancy Pansy was the old doctor’s +boon companion; and wherever the old doctor was,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +whether in his old rattling brown buggy, with Slouch jogging +sleepily along the dusty roads which Middleburgh +called her “streets,” or sitting in the shadiest corner of his +porch, Nancy Pansy was in her waking hours generally beside +him, her great pansy-colored eyes and her sunny hair +making a bright contrast to the white locks and tanned +cheeks of the old man. His home was just across the fence +from the big house in which Nancy Pansy lived, and there +was a hole where two palings were pulled off, through which +Nancy Pansy used to slip when she went back and forth, +and through which her little black companion, whose name, +according to Nancy Pansy’s dictionary, was “Marphy,” just +could squeeze. Sometimes, indeed, Nancy Pansy used to +fall asleep over at the old doctor’s on the warm summer +afternoons, and wake up next morning, curiously enough, to +find herself in a strange room, in a great big bed, with a railing +around the top of the high bedposts, and curtains hanging +from it, and with Marphy asleep on a pallet near by.</p> + +<p>“That child is your shadow, doctor,” said Nancy Pansy’s +mother one day to him.</p> + +<p>“No, madam; she is my sunshine,” answered the old +man, gravely.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy’s mother smiled, for when the old doctor +said a thing he meant it. All Middleburgh knew that, from +old Slouch, who never would open his eyes for any one else, +and old Mrs. Hippin, who never would admit she was better +to any one else, up to Nancy Pansy herself. Perhaps this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +was the reason why when the war broke out, and all the +other men went into the army, the old doctor, who was too +old and feeble to go himself, but had sent his only son +Harry, was chosen by tacit consent as Middleburgh’s general +adviser and guardian. Thus it was he who had to advise +Mrs. Latimer, the druggist’s wife, how to keep the little +apothecary’s shop at the corner of the Court-house Square +after her husband went into the army; and it was he who +advised Mrs. Seddon to keep the post-office in the little +building at the bottom of her lawn, which had served as her +husband’s law office before he went off to the war at the head +of the Middleburgh Artillery. He even gave valuable assistance +as well as advice to Mrs. Hippin about curing her +chickens of the gapes; and to Nancy Pansy’s great astonishment +had several times performed a most remarkable operation +by inserting a hair from old Slouch’s mane down the +invalid’s little stretched throat.</p> + +<p>He used to go around the town nearly every afternoon, +seeing the healthy as well as the sick, and giving advice as +well as physic, both being taken with equal confidence. It +was what he called “reviewing his out-posts,” and he used to +explain to Nancy Pansy that that was the way her father and +his Harry did in their camp. Nancy Pansy did not wholly +understand him, but she knew it was something that was just +right; so she nodded gravely, and said, “Umh-hmh!”</p> + +<p>It was not hard to get a doll the first year of the war, but +before the second year was half over there was not one left<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +in Middleburgh. The old doctor explained to Nancy Pansy +that they had all gone away to the war. She did not quite +understand what dollies had to do with fighting, but she +knew that war made the dolls disappear. Still she kept on +talking about the new doll she would get on her birthday at +Christmas, and as the old doctor used to talk to her about it, +and discuss the sort of hair it should have, and the kind of +dress it should wear, she never doubted that she should get it +in her stocking as usual on Christmas morning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE old doctor’s boots were very bad—those old boots +which Middleburgh knew as well as they knew Nancy +Pansy’s eyes or the church steeple. Mrs. Seddon had +taken the trouble to scold him one day in the autumn when +she heard him coughing, and she had sent him a small roll of +money “on account,” she wrote him, “of a long bill,” to get +a pair of new boots. The old doctor never sent in a bill; he +would as soon have sent a small-pox patient into Nancy +Pansy’s play-room. He calmly returned the money, saying he +never transacted business with women who had husbands, and +that he had always dressed to suit himself, at which Mrs. +Seddon laughed; for, like the rest of Middleburgh, she knew +that those old boots never stood back for any weather, however +bad. She arranged, however, to have a little money sent +to him through the post-office from another town without any +name to the letter enclosing it. But the old boots were still +worn, and Nancy Pansy, at her mother’s suggestion, learned +to knit, that she might have a pair of yarn socks knit for +the old doctor at Christmas. She intended to have kept this +a secret, and she did keep it from every one but the doctor; +she did not quite <i>tell</i> even him, but she could not help making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +him “guess” about it. Christmas Eve she went over to +the old doctor’s, and whilst she made him shut his eyes, hung +up his stocking herself, into which she poked a new pair of +very queer-shaped yarn socks, a little black in some places +from her little hands, for they were just done, and there had +not been time to wash them. She consulted the old doctor +to know if he really—really, “now, really”—thought Santa +Claus would bring her a doll “through the war;” but she +could only get a “perhaps” out of him, for he said he +had not heard from Harry.</p> + +<p>It was about ten o’clock that night when the old doctor +came home from his round of visits, and opening his old +secretary, took out a long thin bundle wrapped in paper, +and slipping it into his pocket, went out again into the snow +which was falling. Old Limpid, the doctor’s man, had taken +Slouch to the stable, so the old doctor walked, stumbling +around through the dark by the gate, thinking with a sigh +of his boy Harry, who would just have vaulted over the +palings, and who was that night sleeping in the snow somewhere. +However, he smiled when he put the bundle into +Nancy Pansy’s long stocking, and he smiled again when he +put his old worn boots to the fire and warmed his feet. +But when Nancy Pansy slipped next morning through her +“little doctor’s-gate,” as she called her hole in the fence, and +burst into his room before he was out of bed, to show him +with dancing eyes what Santa Claus had brought her, and +announced that she had “named her ‘Harry,’ all herself,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +the old doctor had to wipe his eyes before he could really +see her.</p> + +<p>Harry was the first “real doll” Nancy Pansy had ever +had—that was what she said—and Harry soon became as +well known in Middleburgh as Nancy Pansy herself. She +used to accompany Nancy Pansy and the old doctor on their +rounds, and instead of the latter two being called “the +twins,” they and Harry were now dubbed “the triplets.” It +was astonishing what an influence Harry came to have on +Nancy Pansy’s life. She carried her everywhere, and the +doll would frequently be seen sitting up in the old doctor’s +buggy alone, whilst Slouch dozed in the sun outside of some +patient’s door. Of course, so much work as Harry had to do +had the effect of marring her freshness a good deal, and +she met with one or two severe accidents, such as breaking +her leg, and cracking her neck; but the old doctor +attended her in the gravest way, and performed such successful +operations that really she was, except as to looks, almost +as good as new; besides, as Nancy Pansy explained, dolls +had to have measles and “theseases” just like other folks.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p> + +<h3>III.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">IN March, 186—, Middleburgh “fell.” That is, it fell into +the hands of the Union army, and remained in their +hands afterwards. It was terrible at first, and Nancy +Pansy stuffed Harry into a box, and hid her away.</p> + +<p>It was awfully lonesome, however, and to think of the +way Harry was doubled up and cramped down in that box +under the floor was dreadful. So at last, finding that whatever +else they did, the soldiers did not trouble her, she took +Harry out. But she never could go about with her as +before, for of course things were different, and although she +got over her fright at the soldiers, as did her sister Ellen and +the rest of Middleburgh, they never were friendly. Indeed, +sometimes they were just the reverse, and at last they got to +such a pitch that the regiment which was there was taken +away, and a new regiment, or, rather, two new companies, +were sent there. These were Companies A and C of the +—th Regiment of —— Veterans. They had been originally +known as Volunteers, but now they were known as “Veterans,” +because they had been in so many battles.</p> + +<p>The —th were perhaps the youngest men in that department, +being mainly young college fellows who had enlisted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> +all together. Some of the regiments composed of older men +were at first inclined to laugh at the smooth-faced youngsters +who could hardly raise a mustache to a mess; but when +these same rosy-cheeked fellows flung off their knapsacks in +battle after battle, and went rushing ahead under a hail of +bullets and shell, they changed their tune and dubbed them +“The Baby Veterans.” Thus, in 186—, the Baby Veterans +went to Middleburgh for a double purpose:—first, that they +might recruit and rest; and, secondly, because for the past +six months Middleburgh had been causing much worry, and +was regarded as a nest of treason and trouble. The regiment +which had been there before was a new regiment, not +long since recruited, and had been in a continual quarrel +with Middleburgh, and as Middleburgh consisted mainly of +women and children, and a few old men, there was not much +honor to be got out of rows with them. Middleburgh complained +that the soldiers were tyrannical and caused the +trouble; the soldiers insisted that Middleburgh was constantly +breaking the regulations, and conducted itself in a +high-handed and rebellious way, and treated them with open +scorn. As an evidence, it was cited that the women in +Middleburgh would not speak to the Union soldiers. And +it was rumored that the girls there were uncommonly pretty. +When the Baby Veterans heard this, they simply laughed, +pulled their budding mustaches, and announced that they +would “keep things straight in Middleburgh.”</p> + +<p>Tom Adams was first lieutenant of Company C. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> +had enlisted as a private, and had been rapidly promoted to +corporal, sergeant, and then lieutenant; and he was in a fair +way to be captain soon, as the captain of his company was +at home badly wounded, and if he should be permanently disabled, +Tom was certain of the captaincy. If any man could +bring Middleburgh to terms, Tom Adams was the man, so +his friends declared, and they would like to see any woman +who would refuse to speak to Tom Adams—they really +would.</p> + +<p>The Baby Veterans reached Middleburgh in the night, +and took up their quarters on the Court-house Square, vacated +by the regiment which had just left. When morning +came they took a look at Middleburgh, and determined to +intimidate it on the spot. They drilled, marched and +counter-marched up and down the dusty streets, and around +the old whitewashed court-house, to show that they meant +business, and did not propose to stand any foolishness—not +they.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy and her sister Ellen had been with Harry +to see old Mrs. Hippin, who was sick, to carry her some +bread and butter, and were returning home about mid-day. +They had not seen the new soldiers, and were hurrying along, +hoping they might not see them, when they suddenly heard +the drums and fifes playing, and turning the corner, they saw +the soldiers between them and their gate, marching up the +road toward them. A tall young officer was at their head; +his coat was buttoned up very tight, and he carried his drawn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> +sword with the handle in his right hand and the tip in his +left, and carried his head very high. It was Tom Adams. +Nancy Pansy caught tight hold of her sister’s hand, and +clasped Harry closely to her bosom. For a second they +stopped; then, as there was no help for it, they started forward +across the road, just in front of the soldiers. They +were so close that Nancy Pansy was afraid they would march +over them, and she would have liked to run. She clutched +sister’s hand hard; but her sister did not quicken her pace at +all, and the young officer had to give the order, “Mark time—march!” +to let them pass. He looked very grand as +he drew himself up, but Nancy Pansy’s sister held her hand +firmly, and took not the slightest notice of him. Lifting her +head defiantly in the air, and keeping her dark eyes straight +before her, she passed with Nancy Pansy within two steps +of the young lieutenant and his drawn sword, neither quickening +nor slowing her pace a particle. They might have +seemed not to know that a Federal soldier was within a +hundred miles of them but for the way that Nancy Pansy +squeezed Harry, and the scornful air which sat on her sister’s +stern little face and erect figure as she drew Nancy Pansy +closer to her, and gathered up her skirts daintily in her small +hand, as though they might be soiled by an accidental +touch.</p> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77-78]</span> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i093"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i093.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">NANCY PANSY CLASPED HARRY CLOSELY TO HER BOSOM.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>Tom Adams had a mind to give the order “Forward!” +and make them run out of the way, but he did not do it, so +he marched back to camp, and told the story to his mess, +walking around the table, holding the table-cloth in his hand, +to show how the little rebel had done. He vowed he would +get even with her.</p> + +<p>As the days went on, the Baby Veterans and Middleburgh +came no nearer being acquainted than they were that morning. +The Baby Veterans still drilled, and paraded, and set +pickets all around the town; Middleburgh and Nancy Pansy +still picked up their skirts and passed by with uplifted heads +and defiant eyes. The Baby Veterans shouted on the Court-house +Square, “Yankee Doodle” and the “Star-spangled +Banner;” Middleburgh sang on its verandas and in its parlors, +“Dixie” and the “Bonnie Blue Flag.” Perhaps, some +evenings Middleburgh may have stopped its own singing, and +have stolen out on its balconies to listen to the rich chorus +which came up from the Court-house Grove, but if so, the +Baby Veterans never knew it; or perhaps, the Baby Veterans +some evenings may have strolled along the shadowed streets, +or stretched themselves out on the grass to listen to the +sweet voices which floated down from the embowered verandas +in the Judge’s yard; if so, Middleburgh never guessed it.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy used to sing sweetly, and she would often +sing whilst her sister played for her.</p> + +<p>The strict regulations established by the soldiers prevented +any letters from going or coming unopened, and +Middleburgh never would tolerate that. So the only mail +which passed through the office was that which the Baby +Veterans received or sent. As stated, Nancy Pansy’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> +mother, by the old doctor’s advice and for reasons good +to her and her friends, still kept the post-office under a +sort of surveillance, yet the intercourse with the soldiers +was strictly official; the letters were received or were delivered +by the postmistress in silence, or if the Baby Veterans +asked a question it was generally replied to by a haughty +bow, or an ungracious “No.”</p> + +<p>One mail day Mrs. Seddon was ill, so Nancy Pansy’s sister +Ellen had to go to open the mail, and Nancy Pansy went +with her, taking Harry along, “to take care of them.”</p> + +<p>It happened that Tom Adams and a friend came in to ask +for their letters. Nancy Pansy’s sister was standing at the +table arranging the mail, and Nancy Pansy was sitting up on +the table by her, holding the battered but cherished Harry in +her lap. The young officer stiffened up as he saw who was +before him.</p> + +<p>“Are there any letters for Lieutenant Adams?” he asked, +in a very formal and stately manner.</p> + +<p>There was no reply or motion to show that he had been +heard, except that Nancy Pansy’s sister began to go over the +letters again from the beginning of the A’s. Suddenly Nancy +Pansy, who was watching her, saw one, and exclaiming, “Oh! +there’s one!” seized it, and slipped down from the table to +give it to its owner, proud to show that she could read writing. +Before she had reached the window, however, her sister +caught her quickly, and taking the letter from her, slowly +advanced and handed it to the young soldier; then turning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> +quietly away, she took out her handkerchief and wiped her +hand very hard where it had touched the letter, as if it had +been soiled. The young officer strode out of the door with +a red face and an angry step, and that evening the story of +the way the little rebel wiped her hands after touching Tom +Adams’s letter was all over camp.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span></p> + +<h3>IV.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap2">AFTER this it was pretty well understood that the Baby +Veterans and Middleburgh were at war. The regulations +were more strictly enforced than ever before, +and for a while it looked as if it was going to be as bad as it +was when the other regiment was there. Old Limpid, the +old doctor’s man, was caught one night with some letters on +his person, several of them addressed to “Captain Harry +Hunter, Army of Northern Virginia,” etc., and was somewhat +severely dealt with, though, perhaps fortunately for him +and his master, the letters, one of which was in a feminine +hand, whilst abusive of the soldiers, did not contain any information +which justified very severe measures, and after a +warning he was set free again.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy’s sister Ellen was enraged next day to receive +again her letter from a corporal’s guard, indorsed with +an official stamp, “Returned by order,” etc. She actually +cried about it.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy had written a letter to Harry, too—not her +own Harry, but the old doctor’s—and hers came back also; +but she did not cry about it, for she had forgotten to tell +Harry that she had a kitten.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>Still it was very bad; for after that even the old doctor +was once more subjected to the strict regulations which had +existed before the Baby Veterans came, and he could no +longer drive in and out at will, as he and Nancy Pansy had +been doing since the regiment arrived.</p> + +<p>It was not, however, long after this that Nancy Pansy had +quite an adventure. She and Harry had been with the old +doctor, and the old doctor had to go and see some children +with the measles, so, as Harry had never had measles, he +sent her and Nancy Pansy back; but Nancy Pansy had found +an old cigar-box, which was a treasure, and would have made +a splendid cradle for Harry, except that it was so short that +when Harry’s legs were put into it, her head and shoulders +stuck up, and when her body was in it, her legs hung out. +Still, if it would not do for a cradle, she had got a piece +of string, and it would do for a carriage. So she was coming +home very cheerfully, thinking of the way Harry would +enjoy her ride down the walk.</p> + +<p>It was just at this time that Tom Adams, feeling thoroughly +bored with his surroundings, left camp and sauntered +up the street alone, planning how he could get his company +ordered once more to the front. He could not stand this +life any longer. As he strolled along the walk the sound of +the cheerful voices of girls behind the magnolias and rose +bowers came to him, and a wave of homesickness swept over +him as he thought of his sisters and little nieces away up +North.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he saw a small figure +walking slowly along before him; the great straw hat on the +back of her head almost concealed the little body, but her +sunny hair was peeping down below the broad brim, and +Adams knew the child.</p> + +<p>She carried under her arm an old cigar-box, out of one +end of which peeped the head and shoulders of an old doll, +the feet of which stuck out of the other end. A string hung +from the box, and trailed behind her on the pathway. She +appeared to be very busy about something, and to be perfectly +happy, for as she walked along she was singing out of +her content a wordless little song of her heart, “Tra-la-la, +tra-la-la.”</p> + +<p>The young officer fell into the same gait with the child, +and instinctively trod softly to keep from disturbing her. +Just then, however, a burly fellow named Griff O’Meara, who +had belonged to one of the companies which preceded them, +and had been transferred to Adams’s company, came down a +side street, and turned into the walkway just behind the little +maid. He seemed to be tipsy. The trailing string caught +his eye, and he tipped forward and tried to step on it. +Adams did not take in what the fellow was trying to do until +he attempted it the second time. Then he called to him, but +it was too late; he had stepped on the cord, and jerked the +box, doll and all, from the child’s arm. The doll fell, face +down, on a stone and broke to pieces. The man gave a +great laugh, as the little girl turned, with a cry of anguish,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +and stooping, began to pick up the fragments, weeping in a +low, pitiful way. In a second Adams sprang forward, and +struck the fellow a blow between the eyes which sent him +staggering off the sidewalk, down in the road, flat on his +back. He rose with an oath, but Adams struck him a +second blow which laid him out again, and the fellow, finding +him to be an officer, was glad to slink off. Adams then +turned to the child, whose tears, which had dried for a +moment in her alarm at the fight, now began to flow again +over her doll.</p> + +<p>“Her pretty head’s all broke! Oh—oh—oh!” she +sobbed, trying vainly to get the pieces to fit into something +like a face.</p> + +<p>The young officer sat down on the ground by her. +“Never mind, sissy,” he said, soothingly, “let me see if I can +help you.”</p> + +<p>She confidingly handed him the fragments, whilst she +tried to stifle her sobs, and wiped her eyes with her little +pinafore.</p> + +<p>“Can you do it?” she asked, dolefully, behind her pinafore.</p> + +<p>“I hope so. What’s your name?”</p> + +<p>“Nancy Pansy, and my dolly’s named Harry.”</p> + +<p>“Harry!” Tom looked at the doll’s dress and the fragments +of face, which certainly were not masculine.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Harry Hunter. He’s my sweetheart,” she looked +at him to see that he understood her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>“And sister’s,” she nodded, confidently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I see. Where is he?”</p> + +<p>“He’s a captain now. He’s gone away—away.” She +waved her hand in a wide sweep to give an idea of the great +distance it was. “He’s in the army.”</p> + +<p>“Come along with me,” said Tom; “let’s see what we +can do.” He gathered up all the broken pieces in his handkerchief, +and set out in the direction from which he had +come, Nancy Pansy at his side. She slipped her little hand +confidingly into his.</p> + +<p>“You knocked that bad man down for me, didn’t you?” +she said, looking up into his face. Tom had not felt until +then what a hero he had been.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, quite graciously. The little warm fingers +worked themselves yet further into his palm.</p> + +<p>At the corner they turned up the street toward the Court-house +Square, and in a few minutes were in camp. At the +sight of the child with Adams the whole camp turned out +pell-mell, as if the “long-roll” had beat.</p> + +<p>At first Nancy Pansy was a little shy, there was so much +excitement, and she clung tightly to Tom Adams’s hand. +She soon found, however, that they were all friendly.</p> + +<p>Tom conducted her to his tent, where she was placed in +a great chair, with a horse-cover over it, as a sort of throne. +The story of O’Meara’s act excited so much indignation +that Tom felt it necessary to explain fully the punishment +he had given him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>Nancy Pansy, feeling that she had an interest in the +matter, suddenly took up the narrative.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he jus’ knocked him down,” she said, with the +most charming confidence, to her admiring audience, her +pink cheeks glowing and her great eyes lighting up at the +recital, as she illustrated Tom’s act with a most expressive +gesture of her by no means clean little fist.</p> + +<p>The soldiers about her burst into a roar of delighted +laughter, and made her tell them again and again how it +was done, each time renewing their applause over the ’cute +way in which she imitated Tom’s act. Then they all insisted +on being formally introduced, so Nancy Pansy was stood +upon the table, and the men came by in line, one by one, +and were presented to her. It was a regular levee.</p> + +<p>Presently she said she must go home, so she was taken +down; but before she was allowed to leave, she was invited +to go through the camp, each man insisting that she should +visit his tent. She made, therefore, a complete tour, and in +every tent some souvenir was pressed upon her, or she was +begged to take her choice of its contents. Thus, before she +had gone far, she had her arms full of things, and a string +of men were following her bearing the articles she had honored +them by accepting. There were little looking-glasses, +pin-cushions, pairs of scissors, pictures, razors, bits of gold-lace, +cigar-holders, scarf-pins, and many other things.</p> + +<p>When she left camp she was quite piled up with things, +whilst Tom Adams, who acted as her escort, marched behind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> +her with a large basketful besides. She did not have room +to take Harry, so she left her behind, on the assurance of +Tom that she should be mended, and on the engagement of +the entire company to take care of her. The soldiers followed +her to the edge of the camp, and exacted from her a +promise to come again next day, which she agreed to do if +her mother would let her. And when she was out of sight, +the whole command held a council of war over the fragments +of Harry.</p> + +<p>When Adams reached the Judge’s gate he made a negro +who was passing take the basket in, thinking it better not to +go himself up to the house. He said good-by, and Nancy +Pansy started up the walk, whilst he waited at the gate. +Suddenly she turned and came back.</p> + +<p>“Good-by!” she said, standing on tiptoe, and putting up +her little face to be kissed.</p> + +<p>The young officer stooped over the gate and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“Good-by! Come again to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if mamma will let me.” And she tripped away +with her armful of presents.</p> + +<p>Tom Adams remained leaning on the gate. He was +thinking of his home far away. Suddenly he was aroused by +hearing the astonished exclamations in the house as Nancy +Pansy entered. He felt sure that they were insisting that +the things should be sent back, and fearing that he might be +seen, he left the spot and went slowly back to camp, where +he found the soldiers still in a state of pleasurable excitement<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> +over Nancy Pansy’s visit. A collection was taken up +for a purpose which appeared to interest everybody, and a +cap nearly full of money was delivered to Tom Adams, with +as many directions as to what he was to do with it as though +it were to get a memorial for the Commander-in-chief. Tom +said he had already determined to do the very same thing +himself; still, if the company wished to “go in” with him, +they could do it; so he agreed to take the money.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span></p> + +<h3>V.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">ON the day following Nancy Pansy’s visit to the camp +of the Baby Veterans, Adams took to the post-office +a bundle addressed to “Nancy Pansy,” and a letter +addressed to a friend of his who was in Washington. The +bundle contained “Harry,” as fully restored as her shattered +state would admit of; the letter contained a draft and a +commission, the importance of which latter Captain Adams +had put in the very strongest light.</p> + +<p>He held his head very high as he dropped his letter into +the box, for over the table bent the slender figure of the +little dark-eyed postmistress, who had wiped her dainty +fingers so carefully after handling his letter. Perched near +her on the table, just as she had been that day, with her +tangled hair all over her face, was Nancy Pansy. She was, +as usual, very busy over something; but, hearing a step, she +glanced up.</p> + +<p>“Oh, there’s Tom Adams!” she exclaimed; and, turning +over on her face, she slipped down from the table and ran +up to him, putting up her face to be kissed, just as she +always did to the old doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91-92]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i107"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i107.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">SHE RAN UP TO HIM, PUTTING UP HER FACE TO BE KISSED.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>Adams stooped over and kissed her, though, as he did +so, he heard her sister turn around, and he felt as if she +might be going to shoot him in the back. He straightened +up with defiance in his heart. She was facing him; but +what was his astonishment when she advanced, and with a +little smile on her lovely face, said:</p> + +<p>“Captain Adams, I am Miss Seddon. My mother has +desired me to thank you in her name, and in all our names, +for your act of protection to my little sister on yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Nancy Pansy; “he jus’ knocked that bad +man down,” and she gave her little head a nod of satisfaction +to one side.</p> + +<p>The young officer blushed to his eyes. He was prepared +for an attack, but not for such a flank movement. He stammered +something about not having done anything at all +worthy of thanks, and fell back behind Harry, whom he suddenly +pulled out and placed in Nancy Pansy’s hands. It all +ended in an invitation from Mrs. Seddon, through Nancy +Pansy and her pretty sister, to come up to the house and be +thanked, which he accepted.</p> + +<p>After this the Baby Veterans and Middleburgh came +to understand each other a good deal better than before. +Instead of remaining in their camp or marching up and +down the streets, with arrogance or defiance stamped on +every face and speaking from every figure, the Baby Veterans +took to loafing about town in off-duty hours, hanging +over the gates, or sauntering in the autumn twilight +up and down the quiet walks. They and Middleburgh<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> +still recognized that there was a broad ground, on which +neither could trespass. The Baby Veterans still sang “The +Star-spangled Banner” in the Court-house Grove, and +Middleburgh still sang “Dixie” and the “Bonnie Blue +Flag” behind her rose trellises; but there was no more +gathering up of skirts, and disdainful wiping of hands after +handling letters; and the old doctor was allowed to go +jogging about on his rounds, with Nancy Pansy and the +scarred Harry at his side, as unmolested as if the Baby +Veterans had never pitched their tents on the Court-house +Square. It is barely possible that even the rigid investment +of the town relaxed a little as the autumn changed +into winter, for once or twice old Limpid disappeared for +several days, as he used to do before his arrest, and Nancy +Pansy’s pretty sister used to get letters from Harry, who +was now a major. Nancy Pansy heard whispers of Harry’s +coming before long, and even of the whole army’s coming. +Somehow a rumor of this must have reached the authorities, +though Nancy Pansy never breathed a word of it; for +an officer was sent down to investigate the matter and +report immediately.</p> + +<p>Just as he arrived he received secret word from some one +that a rebel officer was actually in Middleburgh.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Nancy Pansy was playing in the bottom +of the yard when a lot of soldiers came along the street, +and before them rode a strange, cross-looking man with a +beard. Tom Adams was marching with the soldiers, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +he did not look at all pleased. They stopped at the old +doctor’s gate, and the strange man trotted up to her place +and asked Nancy Pansy if she knew Captain Harry Hunter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Nancy Pansy, going up to the fence +and poking her little rosy face over it; “Harry’s a major +now.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Harry’s a major now, is he?” said the strange +man.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy went on to tell him how her Harry was +named after the other Harry, and how she was all broken +now; but the officer was intent on something else.</p> + +<p>“Where is Harry now?” he asked her.</p> + +<p>“In the house,” and she waved her hand toward the +old doctor’s house behind her.</p> + +<p>“So, so,” said the officer, and went back to Tom Adams, +who looked annoyed, and said:</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe it; there’s some mistake.”</p> + +<p>At this the strange man got angry and said: “Lieutenant +Adams, if you don’t want the rebel caught, you can go +back to camp.”</p> + +<p>My! how angry Tom was! His face got perfectly white, +and he said: “Major Black, you are my superior, or you +wouldn’t dare to speak so to me. I have nothing to say +now, but some day I’ll out-rank you.”</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy did not know what they were talking +about, but she did not like the strange man at all; so +when he asked her: “Won’t you show me where Harry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> +is?” at first she said “No,” and then “Yes, if you won’t +hurt him.”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” said the man. As Tom Adams was there +she was not afraid; so she went outside the gate and on +into the old doctor’s yard, followed by the soldiers and Tom +Adams, who still looked angry, and told her she’d better run +home. Some of the soldiers went around behind the house.</p> + +<p>“Where is he?” the strange gentleman asked.</p> + +<p>“Asleep up-stairs in the company-room,” said Nancy +Pansy in a whisper. “You mustn’t make any noise.”</p> + +<p>She opened the door and they entered the house, Nancy +Pansy on tiptoe and the others stepping softly. She was +surprised to see the strange man draw a pistol; but she +was used to seeing pistols, so, though Tom Adams told her +again to run home, she stayed there.</p> + +<p>“Which is the company-room?” asked the strange man.</p> + +<p>She pointed to the door at the head of the steps. +“That’s it.”</p> + +<p>He turned to the soldiers.</p> + +<p>“Come ahead, men,” he said, in a low voice, and ran +lightly up the stairs, looking very fierce. When he reached +the door he seized the knob and dashed into the room.</p> + +<p>Then Nancy Pansy heard him say some naughty words, +and she ran up the stairs to see what was the matter.</p> + +<p>They were all standing around the big bed on which +she had laid Harry an hour before, with her head on a +pillow; but a jerk of the counterpane had thrown Harry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +over on her face, and her broken neck and ear looked very +bad.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’ve waked her up!” cried Nancy Pansy, rushing +forward, and turning the doll over.</p> + +<p>The strange man stamped out of the room, looking perfectly +furious, and the soldiers all laughed. Tom Adams +looked pleased.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span></p> + +<h3>VI.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Tom Adams next called at the Judge’s, he +found the atmosphere much cooler within the +house than it was outside. He had been waiting +alone in the drawing-room for some time when Nancy Pansy +entered. She came in very slowly, and instead of running +immediately up to him and greeting him as she usually did, +she seated herself on the edge of a chair and looked at him +with manifest suspicion. He stretched out his hand to her.</p> + +<p>“Come over, Nancy Pansy, and sit on my knee.”</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy shook her head.</p> + +<p>“My sister don’t like you,” she said slowly, eying him +askance.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” He let his hand fall on the arm of the chair.</p> + +<p>“No; and I don’t, either,” said Nancy Pansy, more +confidently.</p> + +<p>“Why doesn’t she like me?” asked Tom Adams.</p> + +<p>“Because you are so mean. She says you are just like +all the rest of ’em;” and, pleased at her visitor’s interest, +Nancy Pansy wriggled herself higher up on her chair, prepared +to give him further details.</p> + +<p>“We don’t like you at all,” said the child, half confidentially<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +and half defiantly. “We like our side; we like +<i>Confederates</i>.” Tom Adams smiled. “We like Harry; we +don’t like you.”</p> + +<p>She looked as defiant as possible, and just then a step +was heard in the hall, approaching very slowly, and Nancy +Pansy’s sister appeared in the doorway. She was dressed +in white, and she carried her head even higher than usual.</p> + +<p>The visitor rose. He thought he had never seen her +look so pretty.</p> + +<p>“Good-evening,” he said.</p> + +<p>She bowed “Good-evening,” very slowly, and took a seat +on a straight-backed chair in a corner of the room, ignoring +the chair which Adams offered her.</p> + +<p>“I have not seen you for some time,” he began.</p> + +<p>“No; I suppose you have been busy searching people’s +houses,” she said.</p> + +<p>Tom Adams flushed a little.</p> + +<p>“I carry out my orders,” he said. “These I must +enforce.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy did not just understand it all, but she +saw there was a battle going on, and she at once aligned +herself with her side, and going over, stood by her sister’s +chair, and looked defiance at the enemy.</p> + +<p>“Well, we shall hardly agree about this, so we won’t +discuss it,” said Tom Adams. “I did not come to talk +about this, but to see you, and to get you to sing for me.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +Refusal spoke so plainly in her face that he added: “Or, +if you won’t sing, to get Nancy Pansy to sing for me.”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> won’t sing for you,” declared Nancy Pansy, promptly +and decisively.</p> + +<p>“What incorrigible rebels all of you are!” said Tom +Adams, smiling. He was once more at his ease, and he +pulled his chair up nearer Nancy Pansy’s sister, and caught +Nancy Pansy by the hand. She was just trying to pull +away, when there were steps on the walk outside—the +regular tramp, tramp of soldiers marching in some numbers. +They came up to the house, and some order was +given in a low tone. Both Adams and Nancy Pansy’s +sister sprang to their feet.</p> + +<p>“What can it mean?” asked Nancy Pansy’s sister, more +to herself than to Adams.</p> + +<p>He went into the hall just as there was a loud rap at +the front door.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” he asked the lieutenant who stood there.</p> + +<p>“Some one has slipped through the lines, and is in this +house,” he said.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy’s sister stepped out into the hall.</p> + +<p>“There is no one here,” she said. She looked at Tom +Adams. “I give my word there is no one in the house +except my mother, ourselves, and the servants.” She met +Tom Adams’s gaze frankly as he looked into her eyes.</p> + +<p>“There is no one here, Hector,” he said, turning to the +officer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>“This is a serious matter,” began the other, hesitatingly. +“We have good grounds to believe——”</p> + +<p>“I will be responsible,” said Tom Adams, firmly. “I +have been here some time, and there is no one here.” He +took the officer aside and talked to him a moment.</p> + +<p>“All right,” said he, as he went down the steps, “as you +are so positive.”</p> + +<p>“I am,” said Tom.</p> + +<p>The soldiers marched down the walk, out of the gate, +and around the corner. Just as the sound of their footsteps +died away on the soft road, Tom Adams turned and +faced Nancy Pansy’s sister. She was leaning against a pillar, +looking down, and a little moonlight sifted through the +rose-bushes and fell on her neck. Nancy Pansy had gone +into the house. “I am sorry I said what I did in the parlor +just now.” She looked up at him.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Tom Adams, and moved his hand a little. +“I—” he began; but just then there was a sudden scamper +in the hall, and Nancy Pansy, with flying hair and dancing +eyes, came rushing out on the portico.</p> + +<p>“Oh, sister!” she panted. “Harry’s come; he’s in +mamma’s room!”</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy’s sister turned deadly white. “Oh, Nancy +Pansy!” she gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy burst into tears, and buried her face in +her sister’s dress. She had not seen Tom Adams; she +thought he had gone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>“I did not know it,” said Nancy Pansy’s sister, turning +and facing Tom Adams’s stern gaze.</p> + +<p>“I believe you,” he said, slowly. He felt at his side; +but he was in a fatigue suit, and had no arms. Without finishing +his sentence he sprang over the railing, and with a long, +swift stride went down the yard. She dimly saw him as he +sprang over the fence, and heard him call, “Oh, Hector!”</p> + +<p>As he did so, she rushed into the house. “Fly! they +are coming!” she cried, bursting into her mother’s room. +“Oh, Harry, they are coming!” she cried, rushing up to a +handsome young fellow, who sprang to his feet as she +entered, and went forward to meet her.</p> + +<p>The young man took her hand and drew her to him. +“Well,” he said, looking down into her eyes, and drawing a +long breath.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy’s sister put her face on his shoulder and +began to cry, and Nancy Pansy rushed into her mother’s +arms and cried too.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later soldiers came in both at the front +and back doors. Mrs. Seddon met her visitors in the hall. +Nancy Pansy’s sister was on one side, and Nancy Pansy +on the other.</p> + +<p>Tom Adams was in command. He removed his hat, +but said, gravely: “I must arrest the young rebel officer +who is here.”</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy made a movement; but her mother tightened +her clasp of her hand.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>“Yes,” she said, bowing. That was all.</p> + +<p>Guards were left at the doors, and soldiers went through +the house. The search was thorough, but the game had +escaped. They were coming down the steps when some +one said:</p> + +<p>“We must search the shrubbery; he will be there.”</p> + +<p>“No; he is at his father’s—the old doctor’s,” said +Adams.</p> + +<p>It was said in an undertone, but Mrs. Seddon’s face +whitened; Nancy Pansy caught it, too. She clutched her +mother’s gown.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mamma! you hear what he says?”</p> + +<p>Her mother stooped and whispered to her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” nodded Nancy Pansy. She ran to the door, +and poking her little head out, looked up and down the portico, +calling, “Kitty, kitty!”</p> + +<p>The sentry who was standing there holding his gun +moved a little, and, leaning out, peered into the dusk.</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t out here,” he said, in a friendly tone.</p> + +<p>Nancy Pansy slipped past him, and went down the steps +and around the portico, still calling, “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!”</p> + +<p>“Who goes there?” called a soldier, as he saw something +move over near the old doctor’s fence; but when he +heard a childish voice call, “Kitty! Kitty!” he dropped +his gun again with a laugh. “’Tain’t nobody but that +little gal, Nancy Pansy; blest if I wa’n’t about to shoot +her!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>The next instant Nancy Pansy had slipped through her +little hole in the fence, through which she had so often +gone, and was in the old doctor’s yard; and when, five minutes +afterward, Tom Adams marched his men up the walk +and surrounded and entered the house, Nancy Pansy, her +broken doll in her arms, was sitting demurely on the edge +of a large chair, looking at him with great, wide-open, dancing +eyes. A little princess could not have been grander, +and if she had hidden Harry Hunter behind her chair, she +could not have shown more plainly that she had given +him warning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> + +<h3>VII.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap2">ALL Middleburgh knew next day how Nancy Pansy +had saved Harry Hunter, and it was still talking +about it, when it was one morning astonished by +the news that old Dr. Hunter had been arrested in the +night by the soldiers, who had come down from Washington, +and had been carried off somewhere. There had not +been such excitement since the Middleburgh Artillery had +marched away to the war. The old doctor was sacred. +Why, to carry him off, and stop his old buggy rattling +about the streets, was, in Middleburgh’s eyes, like stopping +the chariot of the sun, or turning the stars out of their +courses. Why did they not arrest Nancy Pansy too? +asked Middleburgh. Nancy Pansy cried all day, and many +times after, whenever she thought about it. She went to +Tom Adams’s camp and begged him to bring her old doctor +back, and Tom Adams said as he had not had him +arrested he could not tell what he could do, but he would +do all he could. Then she wrote the old doctor a letter. +However, all Middleburgh would not accept Tom Adams’s +statement as Nancy Pansy did, and instead of holding him +as a favorite, it used to speak of him as “That Tom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> +Adams.” Every old woman in Middleburgh declared she +was worse than she had been in ten years, and old Mrs. +Hippin took to her crutch, which she had not used in twelve +months, and told Nancy Pansy’s sister she would die in a +week unless she could hear the old doctor’s buggy rattle +again. But when the fever broke out in the little low +houses down on the river, things began to look very serious. +The surgeon from the camp went to see the patients, +but they died, and more were taken ill. When a number +of other cases occurred in the town itself, all of the most +malignant type, the surgeon admitted that it was a form +of fever with which he was not familiar. There had never +been such an epidemic in Middleburgh before, and Middleburgh +said that it was all due to the old doctor’s absence.</p> + +<p>One day Nancy Pansy went to the camp, to ask about the +old doctor, and saw a man sitting astride of a fence rail which +was laid on two posts high up from the ground. He had a +stone tied to each foot, and he was groaning. She looked up +at him, and saw that it was the man who had broken her +doll. She was about to run away, but he groaned so she +thought he must be in great pain, and that always hurt her; +so she went closer, and asked him what was the matter. She +did not understand just what he said, but it was something +about the weight on his feet; so she first tried to untie +the strings which held the stones, and then, as there was a +barrel standing by, she pushed at it until she got it up close +under him, and told him to rest his feet on that, whilst she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> +ran home and asked her mamma to lend her her scissors. +In pushing the barrel she broke Harry’s head in pieces; +but she was so busy she did not mind it then. Just as she +got the barrel in place some one called her, and turning +around she saw a sentinel; he told her to go away, and he +kicked the barrel from under the man and let the stones +drop down and jerk his ankles again. Nancy Pansy began +to cry, and ran off up to Tom Adams’s tent and told him +all about it, and how the poor man was groaning. Tom +Adams tried to explain that this man had got drunk, and +that he was a bad man, and was the same one who had +broken her doll. It had no effect. “Oh, but it hurts him +so bad!” said Nancy Pansy, and she cried until Tom +Adams called a man and told him he might go and let +O’Meara down, and tell him that the little girl had begged +him off this time. Nancy Pansy, however, ran herself, and +called to him that Tom Adams said he might get down. +When he was on the ground, he walked up to her and said:</p> + +<p>“May the Holy Virgin kape you! Griff O’Meara’ll +never forgit you.”</p> + +<p>A few days after that, Nancy Pansy complained of headache, +and her mother kept her in the house. That evening +her face was flushed, and she had a fever; so her +mother put her to bed and sat by her. She went to sleep, +but waked in the night, talking very fast. She had a burning +fever, and was quite out of her head. Mrs. Seddon +sent for the surgeon next morning, and he came and stayed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> +some time. When he returned to camp he went to Tom +Adams’s tent. He looked so grave as he came in that +Adams asked quickly:</p> + +<p>“Any fresh cases?”</p> + +<p>“Not in camp.” He sat down.</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“That little girl—Nancy Pansy.”</p> + +<p>Tom Adams’s face turned whiter than it had ever turned +in battle.</p> + +<p>“Is she ill?”</p> + +<p>“Desperately.”</p> + +<p>Tom Adams sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>“How long—how long can she hold out?” he asked, in +a broken voice.</p> + +<p>“Twenty-four hours, perhaps,” said the surgeon.</p> + +<p>Tom Adams put on his cap and left the tent. Five +minutes later he was in the hall at the Judge’s. Just as +he entered, Nancy Pansy’s sister came quickly out of a +door. She had been crying.</p> + +<p>“How is she? I have just this instant heard of it,” +said Tom, with real grief in his voice.</p> + +<p>She put her handkerchief to her eyes.</p> + +<p>“So ill,” she sobbed.</p> + +<p>“Can I see her?” asked Tom, gently.</p> + +<p>“Yes; it won’t hurt her.”</p> + +<p>When Tom Adams entered the room he was so shocked +that he stopped still. Mrs. Seddon bent over the bed with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +her face pale and worn, and in the bed lay Nancy Pansy, +so changed that Tom Adams never would have known +her. She had fallen off so in that short time that he +would not have recognized her. Her face was perfectly +white, except two bright red spots on her cheeks. She +was drawing short, quick breaths, and was talking all the +time very fast. No one could understand just what she +was saying, but a good deal of it was about Harry and +the old doctor. Tom bent over her, but she did not know +him; she just went on talking faster than ever.</p> + +<p>“Nancy Pansy, don’t you know Tom Adams?” her +mother asked her, in a soothing voice. She had never +called the young man so before, and he felt that it gave +him a place with Nancy Pansy; but the child did not know +him; she said something about not having any Harry.</p> + +<p>“She is growing weaker,” said her mother.</p> + +<p>Tom Adams leaned over and kissed the child, and left +the room.</p> + +<p>As he came down the steps he met Griff O’Meara, who +asked how the “little gurl” was, “bless her sowl!” When +he told him, Griff turned away and wiped his eyes with +the back of his hand. Tom Adams told him to stay there +and act as guard, which Griff vowed he’d do if the “howl +ribel army kem.”</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later Tom galloped out of camp with a +paper in his pocket signed by the surgeon. In an hour he +had covered the twelve miles of mud which lay between<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +Middleburgh and the nearest telegraph station, and was +sending a message to General ——, his commander. At +last an answer came. Tom Adams read it.</p> + +<p>“Tell him it is a matter of life and death,” he said to +the operator. “Tell him there is no one else who understands +it and can check it, and tell him it must be done +before the afternoon train leaves, or it will be too late. +Here, I’ll write it out.” And he did so, putting all his +eloquence into the despatch.</p> + +<p>Late that night two men galloped through the mud +and slush in the direction of Middleburgh. The younger +one had a large box before him on his horse; the other +was quite an old man. Picket after picket was passed +with a word spoken by the younger man, and they galloped +on. At last they stopped at the Judge’s gate, and +sprang from their splashed and smoking horses.</p> + +<p>As they hurried up the walk, the guard at the steps challenged +them in a rich Irish brogue.</p> + +<p>“It’s I, O’Meara. You here still? How is she?”</p> + +<p>“’Most in the Holy Virgin’s arms,” said the Irishman.</p> + +<p>“Is she alive?” asked both men.</p> + +<p>“It’s a docther can tell that,” said the sentinel. “They +thought her gone an hour ago. There’s several in there,” he +said to his captain. “I didn’t let ’em in at firrst, but the +young leddy said they wuz the frien’s of the little gurl, an’ I +let ’em by a bit.”</p> + +<p>A minute later the old man entered the sick-room, whilst<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> +Tom Adams stopped at the door outside. There was a general +cry as he entered of, “Oh, doctor!”</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Seddon called him: “Quick, quick, doctor! +she’s dying!”</p> + +<p>“She’s dead,” said one of the ladies who stood by.</p> + +<p>The old doctor bent over the little still white form, and +his countenance fell. She was not breathing. With one hand +he picked up her little white arm and felt for the pulse; with +the other he took a small case from his pocket. “Brandy,” +he said. It was quickly handed him. He poured some into a +little syringe, and stuck it into Nancy Pansy’s arm, by turns +holding her wrist and feeling over her heart.</p> + +<p>Presently he said, quietly, “She’s living,” and both Mrs. +Seddon and Nancy Pansy’s sister said, “Thank God!”</p> + +<p>All night long the old doctor worked over Nancy Pansy. +Just before dawn he said to Mrs. Seddon: “What day is +this?”</p> + +<p>“Christmas morning,” said Mrs. Seddon.</p> + +<p>“Well, madam, I hope God has answered your prayers, +and given your babe back to you; I hope the crisis is passed. +Have you hung up her stocking?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Nancy Pansy’s mother. “She was so—” +She could not say anything more. Presently she added: +“She was all the time talking about you and Harry.”</p> + +<p>The old doctor rose and went out of the room. It was +about dawn. He left the house, and went over to his own +home. There, after some difficulty, he got in, and went to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> +his office. His old secretary had been opened and papers +taken out, but the old man did not seem to mind it. Pulling +the secretary out from the wall, he touched a secret spring. +It did not work at first, but after a while it moved, and he +put his hand under it, and pulled out a secret drawer. In it +were a number of small parcels carefully tied up with pieces +of ribbon, which were now quite faded, and from one peeped +a curl of soft brown hair, like that of a little girl. The old +doctor laid his fingers softly on it, and his old face wore a +gentle look. The largest bundle was wrapped in oil-silk. +This he took out and carefully unwrapped. Inside was yet +another wrapping of tissue paper. He put the bundle, with +a sigh, into his overcoat pocket, and went slowly back to the +Judge’s. Nancy Pansy was still sleeping quietly.</p> + +<p>The old doctor asked for a stocking, and it was brought +him. He took the bundle from his pocket, and, unwrapping +it, held it up. It was a beautiful doll, with yellow hair done +up with little tucking combs such as ladies used to wear, and +with a lovely little old tiny-flowered silk dress.</p> + +<p>“She is thirty years old, madam,” he said gently to Mrs. +Seddon, as he slipped the doll into the stocking, and hung it +on the bed-post. “I have kept her for thirty years, thinking +I could never give it to any one; but last night I knew +I loved Nancy Pansy enough to give it to her.” He leaned +over and felt her pulse. “She is sleeping well,” he said.</p> + +<p>Just then the door opened, and in tipped Tom Adams, +followed by Griff O’Meara in his stocking feet, bearing a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> +large baby-house fitted up like a perfect palace, with every +room carpeted and furnished, and with a splendid doll sitting +on a balcony.</p> + +<p>“A Christmas gift to that blessed angel from the Baby +Veterans, mem,” he said, as he set it down; and then taking +from his bulging pocket a large red-cheeked doll in a green +frock, he placed it in the door of the house, saying, with great +pride: “An’ this from Griff O’Meara. Heaven bless her +swate soul!”</p> + +<p>Just then Nancy Pansy stirred and opened her eyes. Her +mother bent over her, and she smiled faintly. Mrs. Seddon +slipped down on her knees.</p> + +<p>“Where’s my old doctor and my dolly?” she said; and +then, presently, “Where’s Harry and Tom Adams?”</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span></p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">“JACK AND JAKE.”</h2> +</div> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">“JACK AND JAKE.” This is what they used to be +called. Their names were always coupled together. +Wherever you saw one, you were very apt to see the +other—Jack, slender, with yellow hair, big gray eyes, and +spirited look; and Jake, thick-set and brown, close to him, +like his shadow, with his shining skin and white teeth. +They were always in sight somewhere; it might be running +about the yard or far down on the plantation, or it might be +climbing trees to look into birds’ nests—which they were +forbidden to trouble—or wading in the creek, riding in the +carts or wagons about the fields, or following the furrow, +waiting a chance to ride a plough-horse home.</p> + +<p>Jake belonged to Jack. He had been given to him by +his old master, Jack’s grandfather, when Jack was only a few +years old, and from that time the two boys were rarely separated, +except at night.</p> + +<p>Jake was a little larger than Jack, as he was somewhat +older, but Jack was the more active. Jake was dull; some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> +people on the plantation said he did not have good sense; +but they rarely ventured to say so twice to Jack. Jack said +he had more sense than any man on the place. At least, he +idolized Jack.</p> + +<p>At times the people commented on the white boy being +so much with the black; but Jack’s father said it was as +natural for them to run together as for two calves—a black +one and a white one—when they were turned out together; +that he had played with Uncle Ralph, the butler, when they +were boys, and had taught the latter as much badness as +he had him.</p> + +<p>So the two boys grew up together as “Jack and Jake,” +forming a friendship which prevented either of them ever +knowing that Jake was a slave, and brought them up as +friends rather than as master and servant.</p> + +<p>If there was any difference, the boys thought it was +rather in favor of Jake; for Jack had to go to school, and sit +for some hours every morning “saying lessons” to his aunt, +and had to look out (sometimes) for his clothes, while Jake +just lounged around outside the school-room door, and could +do as he pleased, for he was sure to get Jack’s suit as soon as +it had become too much worn for Jack.</p> + +<p>The games they used to play were surprising. Jack +always knew of some interesting thing they could “make +’tence” (that is, pretence) that they were doing. They +could be fishers and trappers, of course; for there was the +creek winding down the meadow, in and out among the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +heavy willows on its banks; and in the holes under the +fences and by the shelving rocks, where the water was blue +and deep, there were shining minnows, and even little perch; +and they could be lost on rafts, for there was the pond, and +with their trousers rolled up to their thighs they could get +on planks and pole themselves about.</p> + +<p>But the best fun of all was “Injins.” Goodness! how +much fun there was in Injins! There were bows and +arrows, and tomahawks, and wigwams, and fires in the +woods, and painted faces, and creeping-ups, and scalpings, +and stealing horses, and hot pursuits, and hidings, and captures, +and bringing the horses back, and the full revenge +and triumph that are dear to boys’ hearts. Injins was, of +all plays, the best. There was a dear old wonderful fellow +named Leatherstocking, who was the greatest “Injin”-hunter +in the world. Jack knew all about him. He had a book +with him in it, and he read it and told Jake; and so they +played Injins whenever they wanted real fun. It was a +beautiful place for Injins; the hills rolled, the creeks wound +in and out among the willows, and ran through thickets into +the little river, and the woods surrounded the plantation on +all sides, and stretched across the river to the Mont Air +place, so that the boys could cross over and play on the +other side of the thick woods.</p> + +<p>When the war came, Jack was almost a big boy. He +thought he was quite one. He was ten years old, and grew +old two years at a time. His father went off with the army,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +and left his mother at home to take care of the plantation +and the children. That included Ancy and wee Martha; +not Jack, of course. So far from leaving any one to take +care of Jack, he left Jack to take care of his mother. The +morning he went away he called Jack to him and had a talk +with him. He told him he wanted him to mind his mother, +and look out for her, to help her and save her trouble, to +take care of her and comfort her, and defend her always like +a man. Jack was standing right in front of him, and when +the talk began he was fidgety, because he was in a great +hurry to go to the stable and ride his father’s horse Warrior +to the house; but his father had never talked to him so +before, and as he proceeded, Jack became grave, and when +his father took his hand, and, looking him quietly in the +eyes, said, “Will you, my son?” he burst out crying, and +flung his arms around his father’s neck, and said, “Yes, +father, I will.”</p> + +<p>He did not go out of the house any more then; he left +the horse to be brought down by Uncle Henry, the carriage-driver, +and he sat quietly by his father, and kept his eyes +on him, getting him anything he wanted; and he waited on +his mother; and when his father went away, he kissed him, +and said all over again that he would do what he promised. +And when his mother locked herself in her room afterward, +Jack sat on the front porch alone, in his father’s chair, and +waited. And when she came out on the porch, with her +eyes red from weeping and her face worn, he did not say<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> +anything, but quietly went and got her a glass of water. +His father’s talk had aged him.</p> + +<p>For the first two years, the war did not make much +difference to Jack personally. It made a difference to the +country, and to the people, and to his mother, but not to +Jack individually, though it made a marked difference in +him. It made him older. His father’s words never were +forgotten. They had sobered him and steadied him. He +had seen a good deal of the war. The troop trains passed +up the railroad, the soldiers cheering and shouting, filling +the cars and crowding on top of them; the army, or parts +of it, marched through the country by the county roads, +camping in the woods and fields. Many soldiers stopped +at Jack’s home, where open house was kept, and everything +was gladly given to them. All the visitors now were soldiers. +Jack rode the gentlemen’s horses to water, with Jake +behind him, if there was but one (in which case the horse +was apt to get several waterings), or galloping after him, if +there were more. They were hard riders, and got many +falls, for the young officers were usually well mounted, and +their horses were wild. But a fall was no disgrace. Jack +remembered that his father once said to him, when a colt +had thrown him, “All bold riders get falls; only those do +not who ride tame horses.”</p> + +<p>All the visitors were in uniform; all the talk was of +war; all thoughts were of the Confederacy. Every one was +enthusiastic. No sacrifices were too great to be made. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> +corn-houses were emptied into the great, covered, blue army +wagons; the pick of the horses and mules was given up. +Provisions became scanty and the food plain; coffee and tea +disappeared; clothes that were worn out were replaced by +homespun. Jack dressed in the same sort of coarse, grayish +stuff of which Jake’s clothes used to be made; and his boots +were made by Uncle Dick at the quarters; but this did not +trouble him. It was rather fun than otherwise. Boys like +to rough it. He had come to care little for these things. +He was getting manlier. His mother called him her protector; +his father, when he came home, as he did once or +twice a year, called him “a man,” and introduced him to his +friends as “my son.”</p> + +<p>His mother began to consult him, to rely on him, to +call on him. He used to go about with her, or go for her +wherever she had business, however far off it might be.</p> + +<p>The war had been going on two years, when the enemy +first reached Jack’s home. It was a great shock to Jack, for +he had never doubted that the Confederates would keep them +back. There had been a great battle some time before, and +his father had been wounded and taken prisoner (at first he +was reported killed). But for that, Jack said, the “Yankees” +would never have got there. The Union troops did not +trouble Jack personally; but they made a great deal of +trouble about the place. They took all the horses and +mules that were good for anything and put them in their +wagons. This was a terrible blow to Jack. All his life he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> +had been brought up with the horses; each one was his pet +or his friend.</p> + +<p>After that the war seemed to be much more about Jack’s +home than it had been before. The place was in the possession +first of one army and then of the other, and at last, one +winter, the two armies lay not far apart, with Jack’s home +just between them. “The Yankees” were the nearer. +Their pickets were actually on the plantation, at the ford, +and at the bridge over the little river into which the creek +emptied, in the big woods. There they lay with their camps +over behind the hills, a mile or two farther away. At night +the glow of their camp-fires could be seen. Jack had a +pretty aunt who used to stay with his mother, and many +young officers used to come over from the Confederate side +to see her. In such cases, they usually came at night, leaving +their horses, for scouting parties used to come in on +them occasionally and stir them up. Once or twice skirmishes +took place in the fields beyond the creek.</p> + +<p>One evening a party of young officers came in and took +supper. They had some great plan. They were quite mysterious, +and consulted with Jack’s mother, who was greatly +interested in them. They appeared a little shy of talking +before Jack; but when his mother said he had so much judgment +that he could be trusted, they talked openly in his presence. +They had a plan to go into the Federal camp that +night and seize the commanding officer. They wanted to +know all the paths. Jack could tell them. He was so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +proud. There was not a cow-path he did not know for two +or three miles around, for he and Jake had hunted all over +the country. He could tell them everything, and he did so +with a swelling heart. They laid sheets of paper down on +the dining-table, and he drew them plans of the roads and +hills and big woods; showed where the river could be waded, +and where the ravines were. He asked his mother to let him +go along with them, but she thought it best for him not +to go.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123-124]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i139"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i139.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">HE DREW THEM PLANS OF THE ROADS AND HILLS AND BIG WOODS.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>They set out at bedtime on foot, a half-dozen gay young +fellows, laughing and boasting of what they would do, and +Jack watched them enviously as their forms faded away in the +night. They did not succeed in capturing the officer; but +they captured a number of horses and a picket at the bridge, +and came off triumphant, with only one or two of their number +slightly wounded. Shortly afterwards they came over, +and had a great time telling their experiences. They had +used the map Jack made for them, and had got safely beyond +the pickets and reached the camp. There, finding the sentries +on guard, they turned back, and taking the road, +marched down on the picket, as if they had come to relieve +them. Coming from the camp in this way, they had got +upon the picket, when, suddenly drawing their pistols and +poking them up against the Yankees, they forced them to +surrender, and disarmed them. Then taking two of them +off separately, they compelled them to give the countersign. +Having got this, they left the prisoners under guard of two +of their number, and the rest went back to camp. With the +countersign they passed the sentry, and went into the camp. +Then they found that the commanding officer had gone off +somewhere, and was not in camp that night, and there were +so many men stirring about that they did not dare to wait. +They determined, therefore, to capture some horses and +return. They were looking over the lines of horses to take +their pick when they were discovered. Each man had +selected a horse, and was trying to get him, when the alarm +was given, and they were fired on. They had only time to +cut the halters when the camp began to pour out. Flinging +themselves on the horses’ backs, they dashed out under a +fusillade, firing right and left. They took to the road, but it +had been picketed, and they had to dash through the men +who held it under a fire poured into their faces. All had +passed safely except one, whose horse had become unmanageable, +and had run away, flying the track and taking to the +fields.</p> + +<p>He was, they agreed, the finest horse in the lot, and his +rider had had great trouble getting him, and had lingered so +long that he came near being captured. He had finally cut +the halter, and had cut it too short to hold by.</p> + +<p>They had great fun laughing at their comrade, and the +figure he cut as his barebacked horse dashed off into the +darkness, with him swinging to the mane. He had shortly +been dragged off of him in the woods, and when he appeared +in camp next day, he looked as if he had been run through a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> +mill. His eyes were nearly scratched out of his head, and +his uniform was torn into shreds.</p> + +<p>The young fellow, who still showed the marks of his bruising, +took the chaffing good-naturedly, and confessed that he +had nearly lost his life trying to hold on to his captive. He +had been down into the woods the next day to try and get +his horse; though it was the other side of the little river, +and really within the Federal lines. But though he caught +sight of him, it was only a glimpse. The animal was much +too wild to be caught, and the only thing he received for his +pains was a grazing shot from a picket, who had caught sight +of him prowling around, and had sent a ball through his cap.</p> + +<p>The narration of the capture and escape made Jack wild +with excitement. All the next day he was in a state of +tremor, and that evening he and Jake spent a long time up +in the barn together talking, or rather Jack talking and Jake +listening. Jake seemed to be doubtful; but Jack’s enthusiasm +carried all before him, and Jake yielded, as he nearly +always did.</p> + +<p>All that evening after they got back to the house Jack +was very quiet. It was the quiet of suppressed excitement. +He was thinking.</p> + +<p>Next day, after dinner, he and Jake started out. They +were very mysterious. Jack carried a rope that they got +from the stable, and the old musket that he used in hunting. +Jake carried an axe and some corn. They struck out for the +creek as if they were going hunting in the big woods, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +they entered; but at the creek they turned and made for +about opposite where Jack understood his friend had been +thrown by the wild horse that night. They had to avoid the +pickets on the roads, so they stuck to the woods.</p> + +<p>At the river the first difficulty presented itself; the bridge +and ford were picketed. How were they to get across? It +was over their heads in the middle. Jack could swim a little, +but Jake could not swim a stroke. Besides, they did not +wish to get their clothes wet, as that would betray them at +home. Jack thought of a raft, but that would take too long +to make; so finally they decided to go down the stream and +try to cross on an old tree that had fallen into the water two +or three years before.</p> + +<p>The way down was quite painful, for the underbrush +along the banks was very dense, and was matted with brambles +and briers, which stuck through their clothes; added to +which there was a danger of “snakes,” as Jake constantly +insisted. But after a slow march they reached the tree. It +lay diagonally across the stream, as it had fallen, its roots on +the bank on their side and the branches not quite reaching +the other bank. This was a disappointment. However, +Jack determined to try, and if it was not too deep beyond +the branches, then Jake could come. Accordingly, he pulled +off his clothes, and carefully tying them up in a bundle, he +equipped himself with a long pole and crawled out on the +log. When he got among the branches, he fastened his +bundle and let himself down. It was a little over his head,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> +but he let go, and with a few vigorous strokes he reached the +other side. The next thing to do was to get Jake over. +Jake was still on the far side, and, with his eyes wide open, +was declaring, vehemently, “Nor, sir,” he “warn gwine to git +in that deep water, over his head.” He “didn’t like water +nohow.” Jack was in a dilemma. Jake had to be got over, +and so had his clothes. They had an axe. They could cut +poles if he could get back. There was nothing for it but to +try. Accordingly he went up a little way, took a plunge, +and, after hard pulling and much splashing and blowing, got +back to the tree and climbed up. They were afraid the +Yankees might see them if they worked too long on the +river, as it was a little cleared up on the hill above, so they +went back into the woods and set to work. Jack selected a +young pine not too large for them to “tote,” and they cut it +down, and cut off two poles, which they carried down to the +river, and finally, after much trouble, worked along the tree in +the water, and got them stretched across from the branch +of the fallen log to the other bank. Jake could hardly be +persuaded to try it, but Jack offered him all his biscuit (his +customary coin with Jake), and promised to help him, and +finally Jake was got over, “cooning it”—by which was meant +crawling on his hands and knees.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to find the horse, for Jack had determined +to capture him. This was a difficult thing to effect. +In the first place, he might not be there at all, as he might +have escaped or have been caught; and the woods had to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> +explored with due regard to the existence of the Federal +pickets, who were posted at the roads and along the paths. +If the pickets caught sight of them they might be shot, or +even captured. The latter seemed much the worse fate to +Jack, unless, indeed, the Yankees should send them to Johnson’s +Island, where his father was. In that case, however, +what would his mother do? It would not do to be captured. +Jack laid out the plan of campaign. They would “beat the +woods,” going up the stream at a sufficient distance apart, +Jake, with the axe and corn, on the inside, and he, with the +gun and rope, outside. Thus, if either should be seen, it +would be he, and if he came on a soldier, he, having the gun, +would capture him. He gave orders that no word was to be +spoken. If any track was found notice was to be given by +imitating a partridge; if danger appeared, it was to be shown +by the cat-bird’s call of “Naik, naik.” This was the way they +used to play “Injins.”</p> + +<p>They worked their way along for an hour or two without +seeing any traces, and Jake, contrary to Jack’s command, +called out to him:</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jack, we ain’ gwine fine no horse down heah; dese +woods is too big; he done los’. There’s a clearin’ right ahead +here; let’s go home.”</p> + +<p>There was a little field just ahead, with one old cabin in +it; a path ran down from it to the bridge. Jack replied in +the cat-bird’s warning note of “Naik, naik,” but Jake was +tired of working his way through briers and bushes, and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> +began to come over toward Jack, still calling to him. Suddenly +there was a shout just ahead; they stopped; it was +repeated.</p> + +<p>“Who dat calling?” asked Jake, in a frightened undertone.</p> + +<p>“Hush! it’s a picket,” said Jack, stooping and motioning +him back, just as a volume of white smoke with blazes in it +seemed to burst out of the woods at the edge of the clearing, +and the stillness was broken by the report of half a dozen +carbines. Leaves and pieces of bark fell around them, but +the bullets flew wide of their mark.</p> + +<p>“Run, Jake!” shouted Jack, as he darted away; but Jake +had not waited for orders; he had dropped his axe and corn, +and was “flying.”</p> + +<p>Jack soon came up with him, and they dashed along together, +thinking that perhaps the picket knew where they had +crossed the river, and would try to cut them off.</p> + +<p>In their excitement they took a way farther from the river +than that by which they had come. The woods were open, +and there were small spaces covered with coarse grass on the +little streams. As they ran along down a hill approaching one +of these, they heard a sound of trampling coming towards +them which brought them to a sudden stand-still with their +hearts in their mouths. It must be the enemy. They were +coming at full gallop. What a crashing they made coming +on! They did not have time to run, and Jack immediately +cocked his old musket and resolved at least to fight. Just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> +then there galloped up to him, and almost over him, a magnificent +bay horse without saddle or bridle. At sight of Jack +he swerved and gave a loud snort of alarm, and then, with +his head high in the air, and with his dilated red nostrils and +eyes wide with fright, went dashing off into the woods.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span></p> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">“THE horse! the horse! Here he is! here he is!” +shouted Jack, taking out after him as hard as he +could, and calling to Jake to come on. In a minute +or two the horse was far beyond them, and they stopped to +listen and get his direction; and while they were talking, +even the sound of his trampling died away. But they had +found him. They knew he was still there, a wild horse in +the woods.</p> + +<p>In their excitement all their fear had vanished as quickly +as it had come. Jake suggested something about being cut +off at the tree, but Jack pooh-poohed it now. He was afire +with excitement. How glad his mother would be! What +would not the soldiers say? “You didn’t see him, Jake?” +No, Jake admitted he did not, but he heard him. And Jack +described him—two white feet, one a fore foot and one a +hind foot, a star in his forehead, and a beautiful mane and +tail. Jake suddenly found that he had seen him. They went +back to the little open place in the ravine where the horse +had been. It was a low, damp spot between very high banks, +that a little higher—at a point where the water in rainy +weather, running over a fallen log in the hill-side, had washed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +out a deep hole—had become nothing but a gully, with the +banks quite perpendicular and coming together.</p> + +<p>The stream was dry now except for a little water in the +hole at the tree. Trees and bushes grew thick upon the +banks to the very edge. Below, where it widened, the banks +became lower, and the little flat piece between them was covered +with coarse grass, now cropped quite close. The horse +evidently fed there. Jack sat down and thought. He looked +all over the ground. Then he got up, and walked along the +banks around the hole; then he came back, and walked up +the gully. Suddenly a light broke over his face.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got it, Jake; I’ve got it, Jake. We can trap him. +If we get him in here, we’ve got him.”</p> + +<p>Jake was practical. “How you gwine ketch hoss in +trap?” he asked, his idea of a trap being confined to hare +gums. “’Twill take all de plank in de worl’ to make a +hoss-trap. Besides, how you gwine git it heah? I ain’ gwine +tote it.”</p> + +<p>“Who asked you to?” asked Jack. “I’m going to trap +him like they do tigers and lions.”</p> + +<p>“I don’ know nuttin’ ’bout dem beas’es,” said Jake, disdainfully.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t,” said Jack, with fine scorn; “but I do.”</p> + +<p>He examined the banks carefully. His first idea was a +pitfall trap—a covering over the hole. But that would not +do; it might kill the horse, or at least break a leg. His eye +fell on the tracks up to the water. His face lit up.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! We’ll bait him, and then catch +him. Where are the axe and corn you had?”</p> + +<p>He turned to Jake. His mind up to that time had been +so busy with, first, the flight, and then the horse, that he had +not noticed that Jake did not have them.</p> + +<p>Jake’s countenance fell. “I done los’ ’em,” he said, +guiltily.</p> + +<p>Jack looked thunderstruck. “Now you just go and find +’em,” he said, hotly.</p> + +<p>“I los’ ’em when dem Yankees shoot we all. I know I +ain’ gwine back deah,” declared Jake, positively. “I ain’ +gwine have no Yankee shootin’ me ’bout a old hoss.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are,” asserted Jack. “I’m going, and you’ve +got to go, too.” Jake remained impassive. “Never mind, +if you don’t go I won’t play with you any more, and I won’t +give you half my biscuit any more.”</p> + +<p>These were usually potent threats, but they failed now. +“I don’ keer ef you don’ play wid me,” said Jake, scornfully. +“I don’ want play so much nohow; an’ I don’ want none +you’ buscuit. Dee ain’ white like dee use’ to be.”</p> + +<p>Jack changed his key.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, that was Aunt Winnie’s axe you lost. I’m +going to tell her you lost it, and she’ll cut you all to pieces. +I’m mighty glad I didn’t lose it.”</p> + +<p>This was a view of the case which Jake had not thought +of. It was true. The Yankees might not hit him, but if +her axe were lost, his mammy was certain to carry out her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> +accustomed threat of cutting him almost in two. Jake announced +that he would go, but first stipulated for the biggest +half of the next biscuit, and that Jack should go before. +They set off back through the woods toward the opening +where they had run on the picket, Jack in the lead, and Jake +a little behind. They had gone about a half mile, when they +heard the sound of some one coming toward them at a rapid +rate.</p> + +<p>“Run, Jack; heah dey come,” cried Jake, setting the +example, and taking to his heels, with Jack behind him. +They ran, but were evidently being overtaken, for whoever it +was was galloping right after them as hard as he could tear.</p> + +<p>“Hide in the bushes,” cried Jack, and flung himself flat +on the ground under a thick bush. Jake did the same. They +were just in time, for the pursuers were almost on them. +Closer and closer they came, galloping as hard as they could, +crashing through the branches. They must have seen them, +for they came straight down on them. Jake began to cry, +and Jack was trembling, for he felt sure they would be killed; +there must be a hundred of them. But no, they actually +passed by. Jack found courage to take a peep. He gave a +cry, and sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>“The horse! it’s the horse.” Sure enough, it was the +horse they had seen; all this terrible trampling was nothing +but him in the leaves, galloping back toward the spot from +which they had frightened him. They listened until his +long gallop died out in the distance through the woods.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +Jake suggested their going back to look and see if he had +gone to the “little pasture,” as they called the place; but +Jack was bent on getting the axe, and the corn with which +they proposed to bait him. His reference to Aunt Winnie’s +axe prevailed, and they kept on.</p> + +<p>They had some difficulty in finding the place where Jake +had dropped the things, for though they found the clearing, +they had to be very careful how they moved around through +the woods. They could see the picket lounging about, and +could hear them talking distinctly. They were discussing +whether the men they had shot at were just scouts or were +pickets thrown out, and whether they had hit any of them. +One said that they were cavalry, for he had seen the horses; +another said he knew they were infantry, for he had seen the +men. Jack lay down, and crept along close up.</p> + +<p>Jack’s plan was to set a trap for the horse just at the head +of the ravine, where the banks became very steep and high. +He had read how Indians drove buffalo by frightening them +till they all rushed to one point. He had seen also in a book +of Livingston’s travels a plan of capturing animals in Africa. +This plan he chose. He proposed to lay his bait along up to +the gully, and to make a sort of alleyway up which the horse +could go. At the end he would have an opening nearly but +not quite closed by saplings inclined toward each other, and +which would be movable, so that they might interlace. On +either side of this he would have a high barricade. He +believed that the horse would be led by the corn which he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> +would strew along into the trap, and would squeeze through +the pliant saplings, when he would be caught between the +high banks of the gully, and then if he attempted to get back +through the opening, he would push the saplings together. +He would fix two strong poles so that any attempt to push +through would bring them into position. The horse would +thus be in a trap formed of the high banks and the barricade. +They set to work and cut poles all the evening; but it got +late before they got enough for the barricade, and they had +to go home. Before leaving, however, Jack dragged some of +the poles up, and laid his corn along leading up to the gully +to accustom the horse to the sight of the poles and to going +into the gully among them. They fixed the two poles firmly +at the river crossing from the branch of the tree to the bank, +so that they could get across easily, and then they crossed on +them and came home.</p> + +<p>Jack was filled with excitement, and had hard work to +keep from telling his mother and aunt about it, but he did +not.</p> + +<p>Jake’s fear of his mammy’s finding out about the axe kept +him silent.</p> + +<p>The next afternoon they went down again, taking more +corn with them, in case the other bait had been eaten. There +were fresh tracks up to the pool, so although they did not +see the horse, they knew he had been there, and they went +to work joyfully and cut more poles. They put them into +position across the ravine, and when it got time to go home<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> +they had up the barricade and had fixed the entrance; but +this was the most difficult part, so Jack laid down some more +corn along the alley, and they went home.</p> + +<p>The next day was Saturday, so they had a good day’s +work before them, and taking their dinner with them, they +started out. Jack’s mother asked what he was doing; he +said, with a smile, “Setting traps.” When they arrived the +horse had been there, and they worked like beavers all day, +and by dinner-time had got the entrance fixed. It worked +beautifully. By pressing in between the two sides they gave +way and then sprang together again until they interlaced, +and pushing against them from within just pushed them +tighter together. They laid their bait down and went home. +Monday they visited the trap, but there was no horse in it; +the grain was eaten without—he had been there—but inside +it was untouched. He had pushed some of the poles so that +he could not get in. This was a great disappointment. +Jack’s motto, however, was, “If at first you don’t succeed, +try, try again,” so they refixed it. The failure had somewhat +dampened their ardor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139-140]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe35_75" id="i155"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i155.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">JACK MADE A RUNNING NOOSE IN THE ROPE AND TRIED TO THROW IT OVER THE HORSE’S HEAD.</p></figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>The next afternoon, however, when they went, there was +the entrance closed, and inside, turning about continually, with +high head and wide eyes, around the edges of which were +angry white rims, was the horse. He was even handsomer +than they had thought him. He was a dangerous-looking +fellow, rearing and jumping about in his efforts to get out. +Jake was wild with excitement. The next thing was to take +him out and get him home. A lasso would be needed to catch +him; for he looked too dangerous for them to go inside the +trap to bridle him. Jack strengthened the entrance by placing +a few more poles across it, and then put his corn inside +the trap, and hurried home to get a rope and bridle. They +were dreadfully afraid that some one might see them, for Jack +knew he could not keep the secret now if he met his mother, +and he had pictured himself, with Jake behind him, galloping +up into the yard, with his horse rearing and plunging, and +bringing him up right before his mother, with perhaps a half-dozen +officers around her. They were back in an hour or +so with a good rope and bridle.</p> + +<p>Jack made a running noose in the rope, and tried to +throw it over the horse’s head. He had practised this on +stumps and on Jake, playing Injins, until he was right skilful +at it; but getting it over the head of a wild and frightened +horse was another thing from putting it over a stump, +or even over Jake, and it was a long time before he succeeded. +He stood on the bank over the horse, and would +throw and throw, and fail; the horse got furious, and would +rear and strike at them with his fore-feet. At last, just as he +was thinking that he could not do it, the noose went over the +horse’s head. Jack pulled it taut.</p> + +<p>In a second the other end was wrapped twice around a +small tree on the bank; for Jack knew how to “get a purchase.” +The horse reared and pulled frightfully, but his +pulling only tightened the rope around his neck, and at last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> +he fell back choking, his eyes nearly starting out of his head. +This was Jack’s opportunity. He had often seen young +steers caught and yoked this way, and he had bridled young +colts. In a second he was in the pen, and had the bridle on +the horse, and in another minute he was out and the rope was +loosed. The horse, relieved, bounded to his feet and began +to wheel again; but he was not so fierce as before. The +bridle on his head was recognized by him as a badge of servitude, +and he was quieter. It was now late, and he was too +wild to take out yet, so Jack determined to leave him there, +and come again next day and get him. The next afternoon +Jack and Jake set out again for the little meadow in the +woods. Jack was bent on bringing his captive home this +time, whatever happened.</p> + +<p>He did not go until late, for he had to pass the pickets on +the road to the river, and he could do this better about dusk +than he could in broad daylight. He had an idea that they +might think, as he would come from toward the Yankee +camp, that it would be all right; if not, he would make a dash +for it. He carried a feed of corn with him to give to the +horse for two reasons: the first was that he thought he would +need it, and, besides, it would quiet him. They crossed at +the old tree, not far from the meadow; they had crossed so +often that they had made quite a path now. All the way +along Jack was telling Jake how he was going to ride the +horse, no matter what he did. Jake was to stand on the +ground and hold the rope, so that if the horse flung Jack he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> +would not get loose. They approached the trap with great +excitement. They were careful, however, for they did not +want to scare him. As they drew near they were pleased to +find he had got quiet. They came nearer; he was so quiet +that they thought probably he was asleep. So they crept up +quite close, Jack in advance, and peeped over the bank into +the trap. Jack’s heart jumped up into his throat. It was +empty! he was gone! Jack could not help a few tears +stealing down his cheeks. Yes, he was gone. At first +he thought he had escaped, and he could catch him again; +but no, an examination of the place showed him that he +had been found in the trap by some one, and had been +stolen. The barricade was pulled down, and the poles of +the entrance were thrown back quite out of the way. Besides, +there were men’s tracks in the wet place on the edge +of the pool. Jack sat down and cried. It was some of those +Yankees, he knew. Jake poured out all his eloquence upon +the subject. This relieved him.</p> + +<p>“If I had my gun I’d go right straight and shoot them,” +declared Jack.</p> + +<p>This valorous resolve set him to thinking. He got up, +and went down to the gap. He could see the tracks where +the horse was led out. He must have “cut up” a good deal, +for the grass outside was very much trampled. Jack could +see where he was led or ridden away. The tracks went +straight toward the clearing where the picket was. They +were quite fresh; he could not very long have been taken.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> +Jack determined to track him, and find out where he was if +possible. They set out through the woods. They could follow +the track quite well in most places, but in some spots it +was almost lost. In such cases Jack followed the method of +woodsmen—he took a circle, and hunted until he found it +again. The trail led straight to the clearing. As they drew +near, Jake became very nervous, so Jack left him lying under +a bush, and he crept up. It was so late now that it was getting +quite dusk in the woods, so Jack could creep up close. +He got down on his hands and knees. As he came near +he could see the men sitting about the little old cabin. They +were talking. Their guns were lying against the wall, at some +little distance, and their horses were picketed not far off, +rather in the shadow, Jack observed. Jack lay down at the +edge of the wood and counted them. There were five men +and six horses. Yes, one of them must be his horse. He +listened to the men. They were talking about horses. He +crept a little closer. Yes, they were talking over the finding +of his horse. One man thought he knew him, that he was the +Colonel’s horse that had been stolen that night when so many +horses were carried off by the Johnnies; others thought it was +a horse some of the negroes had stolen from the plantation +across the river from their master, and had hidden. There +was the pen and the bridle, and there was the path down to +the crossing at the river. Jack’s heart beat faster; so they +knew the crossing. They were very much divided, but on +one thing they all agreed, that anyhow he was a fine animal,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +worth at least three hundred dollars, and they would have a +nice sum from him when they sold him. It was suggested +that they should play cards for him, and whichever one +should win should have the whole of him. This was agreed +to, and they soon arranged themselves and began to play +cards in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>Jack could now make out his horse standing tied near the +cabin on the outside of the others. He could see in the +moonlight that he was tied with a rope. He crept back to +Jake, and together they went further down into the woods to +consult. Jack had a plan which he unfolded to Jake, but Jake +was obdurate. “Nor, sah, he warn’ gwine ’mong dem Yankees; +Yankees ketch him and shoot him. He was gwine +home. Mammy’d whup him if he didn’; she mought whup +him anyway.” Jack pleaded and promised, but it was useless. +He explained to Jake that they could ride home quicker +than they could walk. It was of no avail. Jake recalled that +there was a Yankee picket near the bridge, and that was the +only place a horse could cross since the ford was stopped up. +Finally Jack had to let Jake go.</p> + +<p>He told him not to say anything at home as to where he +was, which Jake promised, and Jack helped him across the +poles at the tree, and then went back alone to the clearing. +He crept up as before. The men were still playing cards, +and he could hear them swearing and laughing over their ill +or good luck. One of them looked at his watch. The relief +would be along in twenty minutes. Jack’s heart beat. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> +had no time to lose. He cut himself a stout switch. He +made a little detour, and went around the other side of the +clearing, so as to get the horse between him and the men. +This put him on the side toward the camp, as the men were +on the path which led to the bridge. Without stopping, he +crept up to the open space. Then he flung himself on his +face, and began to crawl up through the weeds toward the +horses, stopping every now and then to listen to the men. +As he drew near, one or two of the horses got alarmed +and began to twist, and one of them gave a snort of fear. +Jack heard the men discussing it, and one of them say he +would go and see what was the matter. Jack lay flat in +the weeds, and his heart almost stopped with fright as he +heard the man coming around the house. He could see +him through the weeds, and he had his gun in his hands. +He seemed to be coming right to Jack, and he gave himself +up as lost. He could hear his heart thumping so, he was +sure the man must hear it too. He would have sprung up +and cut for the woods if he had had the slightest chance; +and as it was, he came near giving himself up, but though +the man seemed to be looking right toward him, Jack was +fortunately so concealed by the weeds that he did not observe +him. He went up to Jack’s horse, and examined the +rope. “Tain’t nothing but this new horse,” he called out +to his comrades. “He just wanted to see his master. I’ll +put my saddle on him now, boys. I’ve got him so certain, +and I mean to let him know he’s got a master.” He changed +the saddle and bridle from another horse to that, and then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> +went back to his comrades, who were all calling to him to +come along, and were accusing him of trying to take up the +time until the relief came, because he was ahead, and did not +want to play more and give them a chance to win the horse +back.</p> + +<p>Jack lay still for a minute, and then took a peep at the +men, who were all busily playing. Then he crept up. As +soon as he was out of sight, he sprung to his feet and walked +boldly up to the horse, caught him by the bit, and with a +stroke of his knife cut the rope almost in two close up to his +head. Then he climbed up on him, gathered up the reins, +fixed his feet in the stirrup leathers, bent over, and with a +single stroke cut the rope and turned him toward the bridge. +The horse began to rear and jump. Jack heard the men stop +talking, and one of them say, “That horse is loose;” another +one said, “I’ll go and see;” another said, “There’s the relief.” +Jack looked over his shoulder. There came a half-dozen +men on horses. There was no time to lose. Lifting his +switch above his head, Jack struck the horse a lick with all his +might, and with a bound which nearly threw Jack out of his +seat, he dashed out into the moonlight straight for the road. +“He’s loose! there’s a man on him!” shouted the men, springing +to their feet. Jack leaned forward on his neck and gave +him the switch just as a volley was fired at him. Pop, pop, +pop, pop went the pistols; and the bails flew whistling about +Jack’s head: but he was leaning far forward, and was untouched. +Under the lash the horse went flying down the +path across the little field.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p> + +<h3>III.</h3> + +<p class="drop-cap">JACK had often run races on colts, but he had never +ridden such a race as that. The wind blew whistling +by him; the leaves of the bushes over the path cut +him, hissing as he dashed along. If he could pass the picket +where the path struck the road near the bridge, he would be +safe. The path was on an incline near the road, and was on +a straight line with the bridge, so he had a straight dash for +it. The picket was just beyond the fork. Jack had often +seen them. There were generally two men on the bridge, +and a pole was laid across the railing of the bridge near the +other side. But Jack did not think of that now; he thought +only of the men galloping behind him on his track. He +could not have stopped the horse if he would, but he had no +idea of trying it. He was near the bridge, and his only +chance was to dash by the picket. Down the path he went +as straight as an arrow, his splendid horse leaping under his +light weight—down the path like a bullet through the dusk +of the woods. The sleepy picket had heard the firing at the +clearing up on the hill, and had got ready to stop whoever it +might be. They were standing in the road, with their guns<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> +ready. They could not make it out. It was only a single +horse coming tearing down toward them.</p> + +<p>“Halt, halt!” they called, before Jack was in sight; but +it was idle. Down the path the horse came flying—Jack with +his feet in the stirrup leathers, his hands wrapped in the +bridle reins, his body bent forward on his horse’s neck, and +clucking his tongue out. In one bound the horse was in the +road. “Halt!” Bang! bang! went the guns in his very +face. But he was flying. A dozen leaps and he was thundering +across the bridge. Jack was conscious only that a +dark form stood in the middle, throwing up its arms. It was +but a second; he saw it shot out into the water as if struck +by a steam-engine. His horse gave one splendid leap, and +the next minute he was tearing up the road toward home, +through the quiet woods, which gave no sound but that of +his rushing stride.</p> + +<p>Jack had one moment of supreme delight. His mother +had got somewhat anxious about him, and they were all on +the front porch when he galloped up into the yard, his beautiful +bay now brought down under perfect control, but yet +full of life and spirit. As they ran to meet him. Jack sprang +from the saddle and presented the horse to his mother.</p> + +<p>The next day Jack’s mother called him into her room. +She took him by the hand. “My son,” she said, “I want +you to carry the horse back and return him to the Yankee +camp.”</p> + +<p>Jack was aghast. “Why, mamma, he’s my horse; that is,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +he is yours. I found him and caught him and gave him to +you.”</p> + +<p>His mother explained to him her reasons. She did not +think it was right for him to keep the horse obtained in such +a way. Jack argued that he had found the horse running wild +in their own woods, and did not know his owner. This made +no difference; she told him the horse had an owner. He +argued that the soldiers took horses, had taken all of theirs, +and that their own soldiers—the gentlemen who had come to +tea—had been over and taken a lot from the camp. His +mother explained to him that that was different. They were +all soldiers wearing uniforms, engaged openly in war. What +they took was capture; Jack was not a soldier, and was not +treated as one. Jack told her how he had been shot at and +chased. She was firm. She wished the horse returned, and +though Jack wept a little for the joint reason of having to +give up the horse and the mortification of restoring it to the +Yankees, he obeyed. He had some doubt whether he would +not be captured; but his mother said she would write a letter +to the commanding officer over there, explaining why she +returned the horse, and this would be safe-conduct. She had +known the colonel before the war, and he had once stopped +at her house after a little battle beyond them. Colonel Wilson +had, in fact, once been a lover of hers.</p> + +<p>The idea of going with a safe-conduct was rather soothing +to Jack’s feelings; it sounded like a man. So he went and +fed the horse. Then he went and asked Jake to go with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> +him. Jake was very doubtful. He was afraid of the Yankees +catching him. The glory of Jack’s capture the night +before had, however, given Jack great prestige, and when +Jack told him about the letter his mother was going to write +as a safe-conduct—like a “pass,” he explained—Jake agreed +to go, but only on condition that he might carry the pass. +To this Jack consented. It was late in the afternoon when +they started, for the horse had to be broken to carry double, +and he was very lively. Both Jack and Jake went off again +and again. At last, however, they got him steady, and set +out, Jack in the saddle, and Jake behind him clinging on. +Jake had the letter safe in his pocket for their protection. +They had a beautiful ride through the woods, and Jack +remembered the glorious race he had had there the night +before. As they approached the bridge, Jack thought of +tying his handkerchief on a stick as a flag of truce; but he +was not sure, as he was not a real soldier, he ought to do so. +He therefore rode slowly on. He pictured to himself the +surprise they would have when he rode up, and they recognized +the horse, and learned that he had captured it.</p> + +<p>This feeling almost did away with the mortification of +having to return it. He rode slowly as he neared the bridge, +for he did not want them to think he was a soldier and shoot +at him. Jack was surprised when he got to the bridge to find +no men there. He rode across, and not caring to keep up +the main road, turned up the path toward the clearing. He +rode cautiously. His horse suddenly shied, and Jack was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> +startled by some one springing out of the bushes before him +and calling “Halt!” as he flung up his gun. Jake clutched +him, and Jack halted. Several men surrounded them, and +ordered them to get down. They slipped off the horse, and +one of the men took it. They all had guns.</p> + +<p>“Why, this is the Colonel’s thoroughbred that was stolen +two weeks ago,” declared one of the men. “Where did you +steal this horse?” asked another of them, roughly.</p> + +<p>“We did not steal him,” asserted Jack, hotly. “We +found him and caught him in the woods.”</p> + +<p>“You hear that?” The man turned to his comrades. +“Come, little Johnnie, don’t tell lies. We’ve got you, and +you were riding a stolen horse, and there were several others +stolen at the same time. You’d better tell the truth, and +make a clean breast of it, if you know what’s good for you.”</p> + +<p>Jack indignantly denied that he had stolen the horse, and +told how they had caught him and were bringing him back. +He had a letter from his mother to Colonel Wilson, he +asserted, to prove it.</p> + +<p>“Where is the letter?” they asked.</p> + +<p>Jack turned to Jake. “Jake’s got it in his pocket.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I got de pass,” declared Jake, feeling in his pocket. +He felt first in one and then another. His countenance fell. +“Hi! I done los’ it,” he asserted.</p> + +<p>The soldiers laughed. That was a little too thin, they +declared. Come, they must go with them. They proposed +to put a stop to this horse-stealing. It had been going on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +long enough. A horse was stolen only last night, and the +man had run over one of the pickets on the bridge, and +had knocked him into the river and drowned him. They +were glad to find who it was, etc.</p> + +<p>Jack felt very badly. Jake came close up to him and +began to whisper. “Jack, what dey gwine do wid us?” he +asked.</p> + +<p>“Hang you, you black little horse-stealing imp!” said +one of the men, with a terrific force. “Cut you up into little +pieces.”</p> + +<p>The others laughed. Men are often not very considerate +to children. They do not realize how helpless children feel +in their power. Both Jack and Jake turned pale.</p> + +<p>Jake was ashy. “Jack, I told you not to come,” he cried.</p> + +<p>Jack acknowledged the truth of this. He had it on his +tongue’s end to say, “What did you lose the letter for?” but +he did not. He felt that as his father’s son he must be brave. +He just walked close to Jake and touched him. “Don’t be +scared,” he whispered. “We will get away.”</p> + +<p>Just then one of the men caught Jake and twisted his +arm a little. Jake gave a little whine of fright. In an +instant Jack snatched a gun from a man near by him, and +cocking it, levelled it at the soldier. “Let Jake go, or I’ll +blow your brains out,” he said.</p> + +<p>A hand seized him from behind, and the gun was jerked +out of his hand. It went off, but the bullet flew over their +heads. There was no more twisting of Jake’s arm, however.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> +The soldiers, after this, made them march along between +them. They carried them to the clearing where the old +house was, and where some of their comrades were on guard +awaiting them. They marched the boys up to the fire. +“We’ve got the little horse-thieves,” they declared. “They +were coming over after another horse; but I guess we’ll +break it up now.”</p> + +<p>“Why, they are mighty little fellows to be horse-thieves,” +said one.</p> + +<p>“They are the worst kind,” declared the other.</p> + +<p>“Must be right bad, then, corporal, for you are pretty +handy yourself,” declared a comrade.</p> + +<p>“We are not any horse-thieves,” asserted Jack. “We +found this horse.”</p> + +<p>“Shut up!” ordered one of his captors. They began to +talk about what they would do with them. Several methods +of securing them were proposed, and it was finally determined +to lock them up in the loft of the old cabin till morning, +when they would carry them to camp, and the Colonel +would make proper disposition of them.</p> + +<p>“Can’t they get away in there?” asked one man.</p> + +<p>“No; there is a bolt on the outside of the door,” said +another. “Besides, we are all down here.”</p> + +<p>They were accordingly taken and carried into the house +and up the rickety old stairs to the loft, where they were left +on the bare floor with a single blanket. It was quite dark in +there, and Jack felt very low down as he heard the bolt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> +pushed into the staple on the outside. Jake was crying, and +Jack could not help sobbing a little himself. He had, however, +to comfort Jake, so he soon stopped, and applied himself +to this work. The only comfort Jake took was in his +assurance that he would get him out.</p> + +<p>“How you gwine do it?” asked Jake.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, I’ll do it,” declared Jack, though he had no +idea how he was to make good his word. He had taken +good notice of the outside of the cabin, and now he began +to examine the inside. As his eyes became accustomed to +the darkness, he could see better, and as they were barefooted, +they could walk about without any noise. The old +roof was full of holes, and they could see the sky grow white +with the rising moon. There was an old window in one end +of the loft. There were holes in the side, and looking out, +Jack could see the men sitting about, and hear their voices. +Jack tried the window; it was nailed down. He examined +it carefully; as he did every other part of the room. He +decided that he could cut the window out in less time than +he could cut a hole through the roof.</p> + +<p>He would have tried the bolt, but some of the men were +asleep in the room below, and they could not pass them. +If they could get out of the window, they might climb down +the chimney. He had nothing but his old pocket-knife, and +unfortunately a blade of that was broken; but the other was +good. He told Jake his plan, who did not think much of it. +Jack thought it was bedtime, so he knelt down and said his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> +prayers. When he prayed for his mother he felt very badly, +and a few tears stole out of his eyes. When he was done, +Jack began to work. He worked carefully and quietly at first, +making a cut or two, and then listening to see if any one stirred +below. This was slow work, and after a while he began to +cut harder and faster. It showed so very little that he presently +got impatient, and dug his knife deeper into the plank. +It took a good hold, he gave a vigorous pull, and the blade +snapped off in the middle. It made so much noise that one +of the men below asked:</p> + +<p>“What are those boys doin’ up-stairs there? They ain’t +tryin’ to git away, yo’ s’pose, are they? If so, we better +fetch ’em down here.”</p> + +<p>Jack flung himself down beside Jake and held his breath. +The soldiers listened, and then one of them said:</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, ’tain’t nothin’ but rats. They’re fast asleep, I +guess.”</p> + +<p>Jack almost gave himself up for lost, for he now had only +his broken blade; but after a while he went at it again, more +carefully. He could see that he was making headway now, +and he kept on cutting. Jake went fast asleep in the blanket, +but Jack kept on. After a time he had nearly cut out one of +the planks; he could get a hold on it and feel it give. At +this point his impatience overcame him. He took hold and +gave a wrench. The plank broke with a noise which startled +not only Jake lying in his blanket, but the men below, one or +two of whom sprang up. They began to discuss the noise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>“That war’n’t no rats,” said one. “Them boys is trying +to git out. I heard the window open. Go and see what +they are doing,” he said to his comrade.</p> + +<p>Jack held his breath.</p> + +<p>“You go yourself,” said he. “I say it’s rats.”</p> + +<p>“Rats! You’ve got rats,” said the other. “I’ll go, just +to show you ’tain’t rats.”</p> + +<p>He got up, and taking a torch, came to the stair. Jack +felt his heart jump up in his mouth. He just had time to +stuff his hat into the hole he had made, to shut out the sky, +and to fling himself down beside Jake and roll up in the +blanket, when the bolt was pulled back and the man entered. +He held the torch high above his head and looked around. +Jack felt his hair rise. He could hear his heart thumping, +and was sure the man heard it too. Jake stirred. Jack +clutched him and held him. The man looked at them. The +flame flickered and died, the man went out, the bolt grated in +the staple, and the man went down the shaky stair.</p> + +<p>“Well, you are right for once,” Jack heard him say. +“Must have been rats; they are both fast asleep on the +floor.”</p> + +<p>Jack waited till the talk died away, and then he went to +work again. He had learned a lesson by this time, and he +worked carefully. At last he had the hole big enough to +creep through. It was right over the shoulder of the rickety +old log chimney, and by making a quick turn he could catch +hold of the “chinking” and climb down by it. He could see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +the men outside, but the chimney would be partly between +them, and as they climbed down the shadow would, he believed, +conceal them. He did not know how long he had been working, +so he thought it best not to wait any longer. Therefore, +after taking a peep through the cracks down on the men +below, and finding them all asleep, he began to wake Jake. +Having got him awake, he lay down by him and whispered +his plans to him. He would go first to test the chimney, and +then Jake would come. They were not to speak under any +circumstances, and if either slipped, they were to lie perfectly +still. The blanket—except one piece, which he cut off and +hung over the hole to hide the sky, in case the men should +come up and look for them—was to be taken along with +them to fling over them if their flight should be discovered. +The soldiers might think it just one of their blankets. After +they got to the woods, they were to make for their tree. If +they were pursued, they were to lie down under bushes and +not speak or move. Having arranged everything, and fastened +the piece of blanket so that it hung loosely over the +hole, allowing them to get through, Jack crawled out of the +window and let himself down by his hands. His bare feet +touched the shoulder of the chimney, and letting go, he +climbed carefully down. Jake was already coming out of the +window. Jack thought he heard a noise, and crept around +the house through the weeds to see what it was. It was +only a horse, and he was turning back, when he heard a great +racket and scrambling, and with a tremendous thump Jake<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +came tumbling down from the chimney into the weeds. He +had the breath all knocked out of him, and lay quite still. +Jack heard some one say, “What on earth was that?” and he +had only time to throw the blanket over Jake and drop down +into the weeds himself, when he heard the man come striding +around the house. He had his gun in his hand. He passed +right by him, between him and the dark blanket lying in the +corner. He stopped and looked all around. He was not ten +feet from him, and was right over the blanket under which Jake +lay. He actually stooped over, as if he was going to pull the +blanket off of Jake, and Jack gave himself up for lost. But +the man passed on, and Jack heard him talking to his comrades +about the curious noise. They decided that it must +have been a gun which burst somewhere. Jack’s heart +was in his mouth about Jake. He wondered if he was +killed. He was about to crawl up to him, when the blanket +stirred and Jake’s head peeped out, then went back. +“Jake, oh, Jake, are you dead?” asked Jack, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“I dun know; b’lieve I is,” answered Jake. “Mos’ dead, +anyway.”</p> + +<p>“No, you ain’t. Is your leg broke?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“No, ’tain’t,” encouraged Jack. “Waggle your toe; can +you waggle your toe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; some, little bit,” whispered Jake, kicking under +the blanket.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>“Waggle your other toe—waggle all your toes,” whispered +Jack.</p> + +<p>The blanket acted as if some one was having a fit +under it.</p> + +<p>“Your leg ain’t broke; you are all right,” said Jack. +“Come on.”</p> + +<p>Jake insisted that his leg was broken, and that he could +not walk.</p> + +<p>“Crawl,” said Jack, creeping up to him. “Come on, like +Injins. It’s getting day.” He started off through the weeds, +and Jake crawled after him. His ankle was sprained, however, +and the briers were thick, and he made slow progress, +so Jack crawled along by him through the weeds, helping +him.</p> + +<p>They were about half way across the little clearing when +they heard a noise behind them; lights were moving about +in the house, and, looking back, Jack saw men moving around +the house, and a man poked his head out of the window.</p> + +<p>“Here’s where they escaped,” they called. Another man +below the window called out, “Here’s their track, where they +went. They cannot have gone far. We can catch them.” +They started toward them. It was the supreme moment.</p> + +<p>“Run, Jake; run for the woods,” cried Jack, springing to +his feet and pulling Jake up. They struck out. Jake was +limping, however, and Jack put his arm under him and supported +him along. They heard a cry behind them of, “There<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> +they go! catch them!” But they were almost at the woods, +and a second later they were dashing through the bushes, +heading straight for their crossing at the old tree. After a +time they had to slow up, for Jake’s ankle pained him. Jack +carried him on his back; but he was so heavy he had frequently +to rest, and it was broad day before they got near +the river. They kept on, however, and after a time reached +the stream. There Jake declared he could not cross the +poles. Jack urged him, and told him he would help him +across. He showed him how. Jake was unstrung, and could +not try it. He sat down and cried. Jack said he would go +home and bring him help. Jake thought this best. Jack +crawled over the pole, and was nearly across, when, looking +back, he saw a number of soldiers on the hill riding through +the woods.</p> + +<p>“Come on, Jake; here they come,” he called. The soldiers +saw him at the same moment, and some of them started +down the hill. A shot or two were fired toward them; Jake +began to cry. Jack was safe, but he turned and crawled back +over the pole toward him. “Come on, Jake; they are coming. +They won’t hit you—you can get over.”</p> + +<p>Jake started; Jack waited, and reached out his hand to +him. Jake had gotten over the worst part, when his foot +slipped, and with a cry he went down into the water. Jack +caught his hand, but it slipped out of his grasp. He came +up with his arms beating wildly. “Help—help me!” he +cried, and went down again. In went Jack head foremost,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> +and caught him by the arm. Jake clutched him. They came +up. Jack thought he had him safe. “I’ve got you,” he said. +“Don’t——” But before he could finish the sentence, Jake +flung his arm around his neck and choked him, pulling him +down under the water, and getting it into his throat and nostrils. +Jack struggled, and tried to get up, but he could not; +Jake had him fast. He knew he was drowning. He remembered +being down on the bottom of the river and thinking +that if he could but get Jake to the top again he would +be safe. He thought that the Yankees might save him. He +tried, but Jake had him tight, choking him. He thought +how he had brought him there; he thought of his mother +and father, and that he had not seen his mother that morning, +and had not said his prayers, and then he did not know +anything more.</p> + +<p>The next thing he knew, some one said, “He’s all right,” +and he heard confused voices, and was suffering some in his +chest and throat, and he heard his mother’s voice, and opening +his eyes he was in a tent. She was leaning over him, +crying and kissing him, and there were several gentlemen +around the bed he was on. He was too weak to think much, +but he felt glad that his mother was there. “I went back +after Jake,” he said, faintly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you did, like a man,” said a gentleman in an officer’s +uniform, bending over him. “We saw you.”</p> + +<p>Jack turned from him. “Mother,” he said, feebly, “we +carried the horse back, but——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>“He is just outside the door,” said the same gentleman; +“he belongs to you. His owner has presented him to +you.”</p> + +<p>“To me and Jake!” said Jack. “Where is Jake?” But +they would not let him talk. They made him go to sleep.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75553 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75553-h/images/cover.jpg b/75553-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc3dc74 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/75553-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d69a59 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i004.jpg b/75553-h/images/i004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03301e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i004.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i027.jpg b/75553-h/images/i027.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e602dd --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i027.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i056.jpg b/75553-h/images/i056.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..33e6510 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i056.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i070.jpg b/75553-h/images/i070.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6926516 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i070.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i093.jpg b/75553-h/images/i093.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d059c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i093.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i107.jpg b/75553-h/images/i107.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a111540 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i107.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i139.jpg b/75553-h/images/i139.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..521822f --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i139.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/i155.jpg b/75553-h/images/i155.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c43ed41 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/i155.jpg diff --git a/75553-h/images/title.jpg b/75553-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d04e63 --- /dev/null +++ b/75553-h/images/title.jpg |
