HE WALKED OFF . . . AND LEANED AGAINST A TREE (Page 68) Cbitfan TALES OF THE HOME FOLKS IN PEACE AND WAR By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS McKINLAY, STONE & MACKENZIE NEW YORK OOFXBKtHS 1898 BY 3OSL CHAKBLER HAKB1S AHD HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY ALL BIGHTS BSEBVO TO MY DAUGHTER LILLIAN Who will know why I have included in Tales of the Home Folks the little skit about our friends in St. Valerien CONTENTS PiOE How WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 1 THE COLONELS "NIGGER DOG" . . . . 34 A RUN OF LUCK . . . . . . .71 THE LATE MR. WATKINS OF GEORGIA . . 97 A BELLE OF ST. VALERIEN ..... 114 THE COMEDY OF WAR ...... 148 A BOLD DESEKTER ....... 184 A BABY IN THE SIEGE ...... 215 THE BABYS FORTUNE ...... 253 AN AMBUSCADE ....... 293 THE CAUSE OP THE DIFFICULTY .... 345 THE BABYS CHRISTMAS . 377 TALES OF THE HOME FOLKS IN PEACE AND WAR HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING MATT KILPATRICK of Putnam used to laugh and say that his famous foxhound Whalebone was responsible for a very bril liant wedding in Jasper. When Harvey Dennis and Tom Collingsworth were among his listeners (which was pretty much all the time, for the three were inseparable), they had a way of shaking their heads dubiously over this statement. Mr. Dennis thought that his dog Eowan (pronounced Eo-ann) ought to have some of the credit, while Mr. Collingsworth was equally sure that Music had as much to do with the happy event as any of the rest. The Collingsworth argu ment and it was a sound one was that where a lady dog is skipping along and per forming to the queens taste all the work that 2 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING is cut out for her, she ought to come ahead of the gentlemen dogs in any historical state ment or reminiscence. When I first heard the story, considera tions of local pride led me to feel that Kowan had been unjustly robbed of the credit that belonged to him; but time cools the ardor of youth, and mellows and sweetens the sources of partisanship. I can say now that Eowan had small advantage over his two famous rivals, when the scent was as high as the saddle-skirts and the pace the kind that kills. Mr. Kilpatrick used to tell the story as a joke, and frequently he repeated it merely to tease those who were interested in the results of Whalebones exploit, or to worry his fox hunting rivals, who were his dearest friends. But the story was true. In repeating it I shall have to include details that Mr. Kilpat rick found it unnecessary to burden himself with, for they were as familiar to his neigh borhood audience as any of their own per sonal affairs. The way of it was this: One day in the beginning of December, 1860, Colonel Elmore Eivers of Jasper County put a negro HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 3 boy on a mule and sent him around with an invitation to certain of his friends, request ing them to do him the honor of eating their Christmas dinner with him. This invitation, was prepared with great care by Mrs. Bivers, who was a schoolmaam from Connecticut when the colonel married her. It was beauti fully written on the inside of a sheet of fools cap, and this sheet was tacked to a piece of card-board, by means of a deftly made truelovers-knot of blue ribbon. The card-board was placed in a satchel, and the satchel was arranged to swing over the shoulders of the negro, so that there was no danger of losing it. There was only one invitation, and it was to be carried from one of the colonels friends to the other until all had been noti fied of his hospitable desires. The colonel added an oral postscript as he gave the negro a stiff di*am. " Ding em," he exclaimed, "tell em to bring their dogs. Mind now ! tell em to bring their dogs." Mrs. Rivers enjoyed Christmas as heartily as anybody, but in beginning preparations for the festival she always had her misgiv ings. Her father, Dr. Joshua Penniman, had been a Puritan among Puritans, and some- 4 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING how she had got the idea from him that there was a good deal of popery concealed in the Christmas ceremonials. But when once the necessity for preparation was upon her she cast her scruples aside, and her Christmas dinners were famous in that whole region. By catering to the colonels social instincts in this and other particulars, she managed, at a later period of his life, to lead him trium phantly into the fold of the Baptist Church. It was a great victory for Miss Lou, as every body called her, and she lived long to enjoy the distinction it conferred upon her. The day after the invitation had been sent around, a couple of weanling pigs were caught and penned, and, until the day be fore Christmas, they were fed and fattened on nubbins and roasted white-oak acorns. Three young gobblers were also caught and put upon such diet as, according to the colo nels theory, would add to their toothsomeness, and give them a more delicate flavor. These are merely hints of the extensive pre parations for the Christmas festival on the Rivers plantation. What the colonel always wanted was a merry Christmas, and there could be no mer- HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 5 riment where good - humor and good - cheer were lacking. He had said to his wife years before, when she was somewhat doubtful about introducing her New England holiday, " Go ahead, honey! Cut just as big a dash as you please with your Thanksgiving. I 11 enjoy it as much as you will, maybe more. The Lord knows we ve got a heap to be thankful for. We 11 cut a big dash and be thankful, and then when Christmas comes we 11 cut a big dash and be happy." Thenceforward they had both Thanksgiv ing and Christmas on that plantation, and Miss Lou was as anxious to satisfy the colo nel with her Christmas arrangements as he had been to please her with his zeal for Thanksgiving. Indeed, one Christmas-day, a year or two after their marriage, Miss Lou went so far as to present her husband with a daughter, and ever after that Christmas had a new significance in that household: Miss Lou satisfied her Puritan scruples by pre tending to herself that she was engaged in celebrating her daughters birthday, and the colonel was glad that two of the most impor tant days in the calendar were merged into one. 6 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING When the child was born, a poor lonely old woman, named Betsey Cole, who lived in the woods between the Eivers plantation and town, sent the colonel word that the little lass would grow up to be both good and beautiful. Nothing would do after that but the colonel must send the fortune-teller a wagon-load of provisions, and he kept it up every Christmas as long as Betsey Cole lived. The fortune-teller certainly made no mis take in her prediction. The child grew to be the most beautiful young woman in all that region. The colonel named her Mary after his motherland the name seemed to fit her, for her character was as lovely as her face. Even the women and little children loved her, and when this kind of manifestation is made over a girl, it is needless to inquire about her character or disposition. It might be supposed that Mary had a lover, but if so, no one knew it but her own sweet self. Her father, the colonel, declared she was as cool as a cucumber when the boys were around, and the young men who raved over her thought she was even cooler than a cucumber. And yet she had her fathers ardent temperament and good-nature, and HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 7 her mothers prudence and sound discretion. It was a happy combination in all respects, and it had its climax in a piquant individu ality that impressed old and young with its charm. There were two young men, among the many that were smitten, who made it a point to pay particular attention to the young lady. One was Jack Preston, and the other was Andy Colston. Both were handsome and ambitious, and both had good prospects. Colston already had the advantage of a for tune, but Preston was as hopeful and as cheerful as if he possessed a dozen planta tions and a thousand negroes. Mentally they were about evenly matched, but Preston had been compelled by circumstances to cultivate an energy in the matter of steady application that Colston never knew the necessity of. These young men were intimate friends, and they did not attempt to conceal from each other their attitude toward Mary Rivers. It was perhaps well that this was so. Both were high-strung and high-tempered, and if they had been anything but intimate with each other, the slightest cause or provocation would have precipitated trouble between 8 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING them. And this would have been very un fortunate indeed; for, if the name of Mary Bivers had been even remotely hinted as the cause of such trouble, the colonel would have locked himself in his library, read a chapter in the family Bible, called for his saddlehorse and shot-gun, and gone cantering up the big road on business connected with the plantation. But these rival lovers were bosom friends. There were points about each that attracted the other. When Preston was with Miss Mary he lost no opportunity of praising the good qualities of Colston, and Colston made no concealment of the fact that he considered Preston the salt of the earth, as we say in Georgia. All this was very pleasant and very confus ing. Mary was in love with one of them, but she never admitted the fact, even to her self, until a curious episode compelled her to acknowledge it. Even her mother confessed that she had been unable to discover Marys preference until the fact fluttered out before everybodys eyes, like a startled bird from its nest. For a while the mother would think that her daughter preferred Preston. Then. HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 9 she would imagine that the girl was in love with Colston. And sometimes she would con clude that Marys heart had not been touched at all. Miss Lou herself preferred Colston, but she was not opposed to Preston. Col ston had a solid fortune, and Preston well, Connecticut knows very well how many long days and how many hard licks are necessary to lay up a fortune. Young people may put up True Love as their candidate and pout at Hard Cash as much as they please, but if they had to go through the experience that Con necticut and the neighboring States went through sixty odd years ago (to go back no farther), they would come to the conclusion that Hard Cash has peculiar merits of its own. Nevertheless, Miss Lou was too wise to say anything about the matter. She knew that her husband, although he possessed land and negroes and money, had a certain fine scorn for the privileges and distinctions that mere wealth confers. He was emphatically a man of the people, and he would have tolerated no effort to implant false notions in his daugh ters mind. Moreover, Miss Lou had great confidence in Marys sound judgment. It was one comfort, the mother thought, that 10 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING Mary was not giddy. She was as gay as a lark, and full of the spirit of innocent fun, but (thank goodness) not giddy nor foolish. But, after all, the chief worry of Miss Lou on the approach of this particular Christmas was not about Mary and her beaux. It was about the preparations that the colonel was making on his own responsibility. She saw several extra bags of meal coming in from Roachs Mill, and her heart sank within her at the thought of numberless fox-hounds swarming under the house and in the yard, and roaming around over the plantation. At the first convenient opportunity she broached the subject. " Mr. Rivers " (she never called him colo nel), " I do hope you have nt asked your friends to bring their hound-dogs with them. Why, they 11 take the whole place. You ve got twelve of your own. What on earth do you want with any more ? " " Why, yes, honey," said the colonel, with a sigh. " Harvey Dennis and Matt Kilpatrick and Tom Collingsworth will fetch their dogs, and I reckon maybe Jack Casswell and Bill Hearn will fetch theirs." Mrs. Rivers dropped her hands in her lap HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 11 in helpless dismay. ({ Mercies upon us! I thought you surely had dogs enough of your own." " Why, honey," the colonel expostulated, " you ve let the niggers chunk my dogs till they are no manner account." " Well, I do hate hound-dogs ! " exclaimed Miss Lou ; " sneaking around, sticking their noses in the pots and pans, and squalling like they re killed if you lift your hand. Why, the foxes come right up in the yard and take off the geese and ducks, where your dogs could see them if they were nt too lazy to open their eyes." " Those are just the foxes we re going to catch, honey," remarked the colonel sooth ingly. " Well, I d rather feed the foxes a whole year than to have forty or fifty hound-dogs quartered on this place three or four days." The colonel made no reply, and after a while his wife remarked, pleasantly, if not cheer fully, " Well, I guess I 11 have bigger trou bles than that before I die. If I dont, it will be a mercy." " If you dont, honey, you 11 live and die a happy woman," responded the colonel. 12 SOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING Miss Lou wiped her face on her apron and sat absorbed in thought. Presently, Marycame dancing in. Her face was shining with health and high spirits. " Just think, folks!" she exclaimed. " Four more days and I 11 be eighteen ! A woman grown, but with the sweet disposition of a child ! " The colonel laughed and his wife flushed a little. " Where did you hear that ? " she asked her daughter. " Why, I heard you say those words to father no longer than last night. Look, fa ther ! mother is actually blushing ! " " I believe I did say something like that," said Miss Lou. " I intended to tell your fa ther afterward that very few children have sweet dispositions. But my mind has been worried all day with the thought of the hound-dogs we Ve got to feed." " Oh, father ! " exclaimed Mary, " are we to have a fox-hunt ? And may I go ? " The colonel nodded a prompt assent, but Miss Lou protested. " Now, Mr. Rivers, I think that is going too far. I certainly do. I have always been opposed to it. There is no earthly reason why Mary at her age should HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEVDING 13 get on a horse and go galloping about the country with a crowd of yelling men and howling dogs. It may be well enough for the men, though I think they could be bet ter employed, but I think the line ought to be drawn at the women." " Why, mother, how many times have I been fox-hunting with father ? " " Just as many times as you have made me miserable," replied Miss Lou; " just that many times and no more." in charge of Captain Mosely, who was recover ing from a wound, and he had selected his old comrade, Private Chad-wick, as his drillmaster, a curious selection it seemed to be to those who did nt know the man, but the truth was that Private Chadwick knew as much about tactics as any West Pointer, and had the knack, too, of imparting what he knew, even if he had to use his belt-strap to emphasize his remarks. The upshot of the matter was that little Billy went to Private Chadwicks tent and remained there. He and the private became inseparable companions when neither was on duty, and in these hours of leisure little Billy learned as much about tactics as he did from the actual practice of drilling. He seemed to take to the business naturally, and far out stripped even the men who had been drilling twice a day for three months. Naturally, therefore, Private Chadwick was very proud of his pupil, and frequently called Captain Moselys attention to little Billys proficiency. Over and often during the pleasant days of A. BOLD DESERTER 199 November, Private Chadwick could be seen sitting in front of their tent engaged in ear nest conversation, little Billy leaning his face on his hands, and Private Chadwick making fantastic figures in the sand with the point of his bayonet. On such occasions little Billy would be talking about his dear old mammy, and about Miss Mary, and, although Private Chadwick was something of a joker, in his way, he never could see anything to laugh at in little Billys devotion to his mother, or in his innocent regard for Miss Mary Goolsby. Somehow it carried the private back to his own boyhood days, and he listened to the lad with a sympathy that was as quick and as delicate as a womans. About the middle of December, little Billys box came. He carried it to Private Chadwicks tent in great glee, and opened it at once. He had said to himself as he went along that he was sure there was something nice in the box, and he hoped to find Mr. Chadwick either in the tent or close by; but the drillmaster was engaged just then in making a refractory conscript mark time in the guard tent by jabbing a bayonet at his toes. 200 A BOLD DESERTER So, for the moment, little Billy had his precious box all to himself. He opened it and found the letter that Miss Mary had pinned to the clothes. It ran thus : ME. COCHRAN, Aunt Sally is very ill now and has been ill for some time. We are afraid that you are the only person in the world that can cure her. She is calling your name and talking about you all the time. It would do her so much good to see you that I hope you can make it convenient to come home very soon, if only for a day. We should all be so glad to see you. Your true friend, MARY GOOLSBY. Holding this letter in his hand, little Billy sank down on a camp-stool and sat there. He forgot all about the box. He sat as still as a statue, and he was sitting thus when Private Chadwick came into the tent a halfhour later. Little Billy neither turned his head nor moved when the drill-master came in, snorting with rage and consigning all awk ward recruits to places too warm to be mem tioned in polite conversation. But he pulled A BOLD DESERTES 201 himself up when he saw little Billy sitting on the camp-stool staring at vacancy. " Hello ! " he cried. " What kind of a picnic is this ? If my nose aint gone and forgot her manners, I smell cake." He paused and looked at little Billy. Seeing that the lad was troubled about something, he lowered his voice. " Whats the matter, old man ? If its trouble, it 11 do you more good to talk about it than to think about it." For answer, little Billy held out the letter. Private Chadwick took it and began to read it. Then he held it close to his eyes. " Now, this is right down funny/ he said, " and its just like a gal. She s gone and scratched out the best part." Little Billy neither moved nor spoke, but turned inquir ing eyes on his patron and friend. " She began it ' Dear Little Billy, " Private Chadwick continued, " and then she went and scratched it out." It was a very fortunate stroke indeed. The color slowly came back into little Billys face and stayed there. After Private Chadwick had read the letter, little Billy took it and gave it a careful inspection. His face was so full of color at what he saw that a stranger would have said he was blushing. 202 A BOLD DESERTER "Whats to be done about it?" Private Chadwick asked. " I must go home and see mammy," re plied little Billy. Private Chadwick shook his head, and con tinued to shake it, as if by that means he would blot out the idea. "Cant I get a furlough?" little Billy asked, with tears in his voice. If any other conscript had asked him this question, Private Chadwick would have used violent language, but the innocence and igno rance of little Billy were dear to him. " Now, who ever heard of the like of that ?" he said in a kindly tone. " There aint but one way for a conscript to leave this camp, and that is to desert." " I 11 do it! " exclaimed little Billy. te You know what that means, I reckon," said Private Chadwick dryly. " It means that I 11 see my dear mammy once more," replied little Billy. " And after that, I dont care what happens." Private Chadwick looked at little Billy long and hard, smiling under his mustache, and then went out. He walked to the centre of the encampment, where the flag-pole stood. A SOLD DESERTER 203 This inoffensive affair he struck hard with his fist, exclaiming under his breath, " Lord? Lord ! What makes some people have such big gizzards ? " The next day little Billy was missing. IV Captain Mosely had the camp searched, hut without result, and in a little while everybody knew that the lad was a deserter. During the morning Private Chadwick had a long talk with Captain Mosely, and the result of it was that no immediate arrangements were made to send a guard after little Billy. Meanwhile, Aunt Sally was growing weaker and weaker. Sometimes, in her trou bled dreams, she imagined that little Billy had come, and at such moments she would cry out a glad welcome, and laugh as heart ily as ever. But, for the most part, she knew that he was still absent, and that all her dreams were futile and fleeting. Nevertheless, one bright morning in the latter part of December, little Billy walked into his mothers humble home, weary and footsore. Aunt Sally heard his footstep on the door-sill, and, weak as she was, sat up in 204 A BOLD DESERTER bed and held out her arms to him. Her dreams had come true, but they had come true too late. When little Billy removed the support of his arms, in order to look at his dear mammys face, she was dead. The joy of meeting her son again was too much for the faithful and tender heart. All that could be done by kind hearts and willing hands was done by Miss Mary and the neighbors. Little Billy shed no tears. The shock had benumbed all his faculties. He went about in a dazed condition. But when, the day after the funeral, he went to tell Miss Mary good-by, the ineffable pity that shone in her face touched the source of his grief, and he fell to weeping as he had never wept before. He would have kissed her hand, but she drew it away, and, as he straightened himself, tiptoed and kissed him on the fore head. With that she, too, fell to weeping, and thus they parted. But for many a long day little Billy felt the pressure of soft and rosy lips on his forehead. He sold the old mule that had served his dear mammy so faithfully, and this gave him sufficient money to pay his way back to camp on the railroad, with some dollars to spare. A SOLD DESERTER 205 As good fortune would have it, the first man lie saw when the train stopped at the station nearest the camp was Private Chadwick. Little Billy spoke to his friend with as muoh cheerfulness as he could command. " I m mighty glad to see you, old man," said Chadwick. " I knowed in reason that you was certain to come back, and, sure enough, here you are. You ve had trouble, too. Well, trouble has got a long arm and a hard hand, and I aint never saw the livin human bein that could git away from it when it begins to feel around for em." "Yes," replied little Billy simply; "Ill never have any more trouble like that I ve had." " Its mighty hard at first, always," re marked Private Chadwick, with a sigh, " but its mighty seasonin. The man that aint the better for it in the long run aint much of a man. Thats the way I put it down." " Am I a deserter, sure enough ? " asked little Billy, suddenly remembering his posi tion. " Well, its a mixed case/ answered the private. " You ve gone and broke the rules and articles of war, I reckon thats what 206 A SOLD DESERTER they call em. You took Dutch leave. The Cap said if you did nt come back in ten days he d send a file of men after you, and then your cake would a been all dough. But now you ve come back of your own free will, and the case is mixed. You are bound to be arrested. All thats been fixed, and thats the reason I ve been comin to the train every day sence you ve been gone. I wanted to arrest you myself." " Then I m a prisoner," suggested little Billy. " Thats about the size and shape of it," replied Private Chadwick. His tone was so emphatic that little Billy looked at him. But there was a kindly light in the privates eyes and a pleasant smile lurking under his mustache: so that the young fellow thought he might safely go back to his grief again. When they arrived at camp, Private Chadwick, with a great show of fierce formality, led little Billy to the guard tent, and there placed him in charge of a newly-made cor poral, who knew so little of his duties that he went inside the tent, placed his gun on the ground, and had a long familiar chat with the prisoner. A BOLD DESERTER 207 After the camp had gone to bed, Private Chadwick relieved the guard, and carried little Billy to his own tent, where Captain Mosely was waiting. This rough old soldier gave little Billy a lecture that was the more severe because it was delivered in a kindly tone. At the end he informed little Billy that the next day a squad of picked men from the conscript camp was to go to the front in charge of Private Chadwick, the enemy having shown a pur pose to make a winter campaign. " Would you like to go ?" the captain asked. Little Billy seized the captains arm. Dont fool me," he cried. " If I am fit to go, let me go. Thats what I am longing for." The captain felt about in the dark for little Billys hand, and grasped it. " You shall go," he said, and walked from the dark tent into the starlight outside. The nights are long to those who sleep with sorrow, but, after all, the days come quickly, as little Billy soon found out. The next morning he found himself whirling away to Virginia, where some cruel business was 208 A BOLD DESERTER on foot. The days went fast enough then, and the railway trainr with its load of sol diers, puffed and snorted as if it wanted to go faster, too; but it went fast enough, just fast enough to be switched off to the right of Richmond and plunge its load of conscripts and raw recruits unprepared into a furious battle that had just reached the high tide of destruction. Private Chadwick was swept along with the rest, and he tried hard to keep his eye on little Billy, but found it impossible, since they were soon mixed with men who were wounded and with men who were running away. Some of the latter turned again when they saw the reinforce ments rushing forward pellmell. Little Billy was far in front of the others. He heard the crackle of musketry and the thunder of the cannon, and ran toward the smoke and confusion. A shell dropped in front of him and spun around, spitting fire, bnt he ran on, and never even heard the ex plosion that shattered the trees around, and played havoc with the reinforcements that were following. He jumped over men that were lying on the ground, whether dead or wounded, he never knew. Some one, appa- A BOLD DESERTER 209 rentlj in command, yelled at him with a sav age curse, but he paid no attention to it. Directly in front of him he saw a battery of three guns. Two were in action, but one had no one to manage it. On each side of this battery, and a little to the rear, the line of battle stretched away. Seeing little Billy running forward, fol lowed by the recruits from the train, the line of battle began to cheer, and at the same time to advance. He had practiced with an old six-pounder at the conscript camp, and he now ran, as if by instinct, to the gun that had been silenced. The Confederates charged, but had to fall back again, and then they began to retire, slowly at first, and then with some haste. Little Billy paid no atten tion to this movement at all. He continued to serve his gun and fire it as rapidly as he could. Shot and shell from the Federal bat teries plowed up the ground around him, but never touched him. Presently a tall man with a long brown beard rode out of the smoke and ordered little Billy to retreat, pointing, as he did so, to the bristling line of Federals charging up the hill. "Take hold of my stirrup," said the tall 210 A BOLD DESERTER man. He spurred his horse into a rapid trot, and little Billy trotted by his side, mightily helped by holding on to the stirrup. In this way they were soon out of it, and in a little while had caught up with the main body, which had planted itself a couple of miles farther back, while the brigade in which little Billy had fought was holding the enemy at bay. Little Billys face was black with powder, but his eyes shone like stars. He knew now that never again would danger or the fear of death cause him to flinch. " What regiment do you belong to ?" asked the tall man as they went along. " None," replied little Billy simply. Then he told how he was just from a conscript camp in Georgia. When they arrived at the Confederate position the tall man called to an officer: " This is my rear guard," said he. " See that he is cared for." Then to Mttle Billy, " When this affair blows over, brush up and call on General Jeb Stuart. He needs a cou rier, and you are the man." As there was no sign of a fight the "next day, little Billy went to General Stuarts LITTLE BILLY TROTTED BY HIS SIDE A SOLD DESERTER 211 headquarters and was ushered in. That fa mous fighter, who happened to be the officer who had noticed him the day before, took him by the arm and introduced him to his staff, and told how he had found him serving a gun after the entire brigade had begun to retreat. This was the beginning. Little Billy be came a courier, then an aid, and when the war closed he was in command of a regi ment. His recklessness as a fighter had given a sort of romantic color to his name, so that the newspaper correspondents found nothing more popular than an anecdote about Colonel Cochran. His fame had preceded him to Hillsborough, and he had a queer feeling when the older citizens, men who had once awed him by their pride and their fine presence, took off their hats as they greeted him. The most demonstrative among these was Major Goolsby. " You are to come right to my house, Colo nel. You belong to us, you know." This was Major Goolsbys greeting, as he clung to Colonel Cochrans hand. " It will be a great surprise to Mary. She 11 never know you in 212 A SOLD VESEBTER the round world. Why, you ve grown to be a six-footer." So there was nothing for Colonel Cochran to do but to go to the Goolsby place, a fine house built on a hill beyond the old church. The major wanted to give his daughter a sur prise, and so he carried Colonel Cochran into the parlor, and then told Miss Mary that one of her friends had called to see her. The young lady went skipping into the parlor, and then paused with a frightened air, as she saw a six-foot man in faded uniform rise to meet her. " Miss Mary," said Colonel Cochran, hold ing out his hand. " Are you " She paused, grew white and then red, and suddenly turned and ran out of the room, nearly upsetting the major, who was standing near the door. " Why, what on earth s the matter?" he cried. Well, if this dont beat Did she know you, Colonel ? " " I m afraid she did," replied the colonel grimly. The major tiptoed to his daughters room., opened the door softly, and found her on her knees by her bed, crying* Thereupon he A BOLD DESERTER 213 tiptoed back again, and said to Colonel Cochran, " Its all right. Shes crying." The colonel smiled dryly. " If I make the women cry, what will the children do when they see me ! " The major laid his hand affectionately on Cochrans arm. " Dont you fret," he said. " Just wait." And so wonderful are the ways of women, that when Miss Mary came out again, she greeted the colonel cordially, and was as gay as a lark. And nothing would do but he must fight his battles over again, which he did with great spirit when he saw her fine eyes kindling with enthusiasm, and her lips trembling from sheer sympathy. Strange to say, nobody knew what it all meant but the old cook, who stood in the doorway leading from the dining-room to the kitchen and watched her young mistress. She went back in the kitchen and said to her husband : " Ef you want ter see how folks does when dey er in love, go ter de door dar an look at dat ar chile er ourn." The old man looked in, watched Miss Mary a moment, and then looked hard at Colonel Cochran. 214 A BOLD DESERTER " I dunno so much bout de gal," he said, when he went back, " but dat ar man got mo in his eye dan what his tongue want ter tell." And it was so; and, being so, the whole story is told. A BABY IN THE SIEGE THE war correspondents have had their say about the siege of Atlanta, and some of their remarks figure forth as history. They have presented the matter with technical dia grams, and in language flying beyond the reach of idiom into the regions of rhetoric ; and the artists have followed close behind with illuminated crayons, turning the Chattahoochee Hills crosswise the horizon, and giving the muddy river a tendency to wash itself in the Pacific Ocean. These are but the tassels and embroideries that history deco rates herself with in order to attract atten tion, and they are inevitable ; for experience must serve a long and an arduous apprentice ship to life before it discovers that a fact is more imposing in its simplicity than in any other dress. The imposing fact about the siege of At lanta is that the besieged came to regard it as 216 A BABY IN THE SIEGE a very tame affair. It is natural, too, that this should have been so, for the lines of defense were two or three miles from the centre of the city, and the lines of the be siegers were almost as far again. The bom bardment was not such an affair as a lively imagination might conjure up, being casual and desultory. The streets were thronged day after day with soldiers and civilians, and even women and children were not lacking to lend liveliness to the scene. Business seemed to thrive, and the ordinary forms of gayety went forward with the zest, if not the fre quency, characteristic of the piping times of peace. It seemed that the confusion the feeling of present or impending danger had lifted from the population that sense of responsi bility that lends an air of sobriety and sedateness to communities that are blessed with peace. Mans crust of civilization is not by any means as thick as he pretends to believe, and war has the knack of thrusting its long sword through in unexpected places, strip ping off the disguise, and exposing the whole shallow scheme. White Atlanta was enjoying itself in a A BABY IN THE SIEGE 217 reckless way, in spite of its portentous sur roundings, the outer lines of defense were kept busy. The big guns and the little guns were engaged in a rattling controversy, an incessant dispute, which died away in one quarter only to be renewed in another. This was all very satisfactory, but while it was going on, what must have been the feelings of the inner lines of defense? The outer lines had their morning, noon, and evening frays, and Atlanta had its frolics, but the inner lines lay still and stupid. Here were the reserves the fiery and dapper little State cadets, fretting and fuming because they were not ordered to the front with the veterans. Here were Joe Browns " melish," to be hereafter the victims of the wild mis take at Griswoldsville; and here were the conscripts that had been seasoning them selves at the camp of instruction at Adairsville, until Johnstons army performing its celebrated feat of retiring and sweeping the ground clean as it went fell upon and absorbed them, giving them an unexpected taste of active service. Naturally, the inner lines were discontented. The shells that went Atlantaward flew harm- 218 A BABY IN THE SIEGE lessly over their heads, and the main business of war going forward in the outer ditches came to them like the echo of the toy artil lery that the children prank with on holidays. The monotony was all but unbearable, and the pert and fearless little cadets began to break it by " running the blockade." They had an occasional mishap, but their example was contagious among those who had a spirit of enterprise and were fond of an adventure that had a spice of danger in it. The new and jaunty uniform of the cadets seemed to carry good luck with it, for those who wore it went unchallenged about the town at all hours of the day and night; whereas the rag tag and bobtail, who had no such neat and conspicuous toggery, were frequently put to it to escape arrest and detention. Captain Mosely, who commanded the con script contingent, was not surprised, there fore, when, on the occasion of a visit to the city, he saw his drill sergeant, Private Chadwick, sauntering along the street arrayed in the uniform of the cadets. The suit was a misfit. The jacket was too short in the waist, and the trousers were too short in the legs, but Chadwick slouched along in happy un- A BABY IN THE SIEGE 219 consciousness of the figure he was cutting. The truth is, no one noticed him except his captain. The people who passed him on the street, and whom he passed, were much too busy to be critical. There was hardly a spectacle so singular as to have the charm of novelty to them. In point of fact, there was at that moment, not a hundred feet in front of Private Chadwick, a curious creature in the similitude of a man, capering about in the middle of the street, waving its arms and jabbering away with a volubility and an incoherence that struck painfully on the ear. And yet hun dreds of people passed the spectacle by with out so much as turning their heads. But a few paused to watch the antics of the mon strosity, and among them was Private Chadwick. Captain Mosely also paused a little distance away, and gazed curiously at the cringing and writhing figure in the street. A closer inspection showed that what ap peared to be a monstrosity was merely antic exaggeration, the contortions of a remark ably agile hunchback. Captain Mosely watched the capers of the hunchback with an interest that seemed to 220 A BABY IN THE SIEGE breed familiarity. The long and limber legs, the long and muscular arms, where had he seen them before ? The hunchback moved from side to side, gesticulating and jabbering like one possessed. Some of the spectators tossed money to him, and some tobacco. These gifts he seized and stowed away with the quickness of a monkey. Suddenly, as he was whirling around in idiotic frenzy, his eyes met those of Captain Mosely. As quick as a flash the hunchbacks demeanor changed. His arms dropped to his side, his head, with its mass of wild and tangled hair, fell forward on his breast, and he sidled off down the street, the crowd readily making way for him. Private Chadwick, who had been watching these manoeuvres with almost breathless in terest, observed the change that came over the hunchback, and looked around to find the cause of it. His eye fell on Captain Mosely, and he brought his right hand down on the palm of his left with a resounding whack. " I knowd it! " he exclaimed breathlessly, as he reached the captains side. " You knew what ? " A BABY IN THE SIEGE 221 "Why, I knowd that imp of Satan the minnit I laid eyes on him. I knowd him as quick as he did you." "Who is he?" " Why, good Lord, Cap! dont you know the chap that tuck you in on Sugar Mountain when we went after Spurlock? The man that shot Lovejoy ? Dont you know Danny Lemmons ? " For answer Captain Mosely gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. " An now he s here playin crazy. I d like to know what he s up to, ding his hide!" " He s a spy," said Captain Mosely. " He was a Union man on Sugar Mountain. He commanded the bushwhackers. He has slipped through the lines. We must nt let him slip back again. He s a dangerous character. I want you to follow him. He must be arrested. Report to the provost marshal; you know where his headquarters are. I 11 leave instructions there for you." Chadwick had been trying to keep an eye on the hunchback while talking with his cap tain, but it was by the merest chance that he saw him turn out of Alabama Street into 222 A BABY IN THE SIEGE Whitehall. He was going, as Chadwick ex pressed it, " in a half-canter," waving his arms and jabbering, and the people were giving him as much room on the sidewalk as he wanted. Private Chadwick walked as rapidly as he could without attracting atten tion. His instinct told him that if he ran or even appeared to be in too great a hurry he would presently be arrested ; so he went for ward easily but swiftly; his slouching gait being well calculated to deceive the eyes of those who might be moved to regard him attentively. But at the corner of Whitehall Street he was delayed by a file of soldiers conveying a squad of forlorn prisoners, captured in some sally or skirmish on the outer lines. Disen tangling himself from the small rabble that surrounded and accompanied the soldiers and their prisoners, Chadwick pressed forward again. Looking far down Whitehall he saw the hunchback whisk into Mitchell Street. He hastened forward, but thereafter he was compelled to rely wholly on his own judg ment, for when he reached the corner of Mitchell, the hunchback had disappeared. At the outset, therefore, Chadwick had a A BABY IN THE SIEGE 223 problem before him. Did the hunchback turn back down Forsyth Street ? Did he go out Mitchell, or did he turn down Peters Street ? Chadwick asked a few of the peo ple whom he met if they had seen the hunch back, but he received unsatisfactory replies. He therefore turned into Peters Street, which at that time led into the most disre putable part of the town. It led through " Snake Nation," where crime had its head quarters, and then outward and onward through green fields and forests until it lost itself in the red trenches that war had dug. Private Chadwick followed the street some what aimlessly, knowing that only an acci dent would enable him to find the hunch back. As he crossed the railroad, a shrill voice railed out at him; it may have carried a curse, it may have borne an invitation; he did not wait to see. On the hill-top beyond, he paused. Here Peters Street became once more the public road, and here Private Chad wick commanded a fine view of the town and the country beyond. As he stood hesitating-, he heard the voice of a woman calling -him. He would have shrunk from it as from the voice of Snake Nation, but this voice pro nounced his name. 224 A BABY IN THE SIEGE He turned and saw a woman standing at the gate of a neat-looking cottage, a hundred feet back from the street. With her hair half-falling down, and her sleeves rolled up, this woman did not present a pretty picture at first sight; but, within hearing of Snake Nation, a face that wore the stamp of inno cence was a thing of beauty. Private Chadwick saw it and felt it, and though the gesture with which he tipped his hat was awkward, it was quick and sincere. " I mos know you ve done fergpt me," she said, as Chadwick went toward her. " But I d a knowd you if I d a seed you in Texas." There was something pathetic in her eager ness to be recognized, yet her attitude was not one of expectation. Chadwick looked at her and shook his head slowly. " No m. I disremember if I ve ever seed you. But, Lord ! I ve been so tore up an twisted aroun sence this fuss begun, that I would nt know my own sister if she wuz to meet me in a strange place. You may be her, for all I know." The woman smiled at the deftly put com pliment. " No, my goodness ! I aint your sister. A BABY IN THE SIEGE 225 1 wisht I wuz right now, I d feel lots better. No! Dont you remember that Christmas on Sugar Mountain when Israel Spurlock an Polly Powers wuz married ? " ft Why, yes m! " exclaimed Chadwick, " I Ve been a-thinkin bout that all day long." " Well, I wuz right thar ! " " Now, you dont say! You aint Gassy _Cassy" " Gassy Tatum ! Yes, siree! The very gal! " She laughed, as though well pleased that Chadwick should remember her first name. Well well well! " said Chadwick. " Yes, I married right along after that, an you cant guess who to? " Chadwick scratched his head and pretended to be trying to guess. By this time, Gassy had led him into the house by the back en trance, and placed a chair for him in a little room that was apparently her own. A baby lay sleeping on the bed. Chadwick gazed at it suspiciously as he seated himself in the chair she placed for him. He felt out of place. " Oh, you d never guess it while the sun, 226 A BABY IN THE SIEGE moon, an stars shine," continued Gassy. " I married Danny Lemmons ! " " The great kingdom come ! " exclaimed Chadwick, leaping from his chair. "The humpback man ? Is he anywheres aroun here ? Bf he is, dont tell me dont tell me ! He d never forgive you while the worl stans." " What s he got agin you ?" inquired Mrs. Lemmons. " Not anything, maam, that I knows on," replied Chadwick, sitting down again. " How I come to marry him I 11 never tell you," said Gassy, seating herself on the side of the bed. " But you know how gals is. They dont know their own mind ef they ve got one. Pap was in the war fightin fer sesaysion, an Maw wuz dead, an that I wuz a-livin roun from family to family, spinnin an weavin, an waitin on the sick. I tell you now, a gal that 's got to live from han to mouth thataway, an he a dependin on Tom, Dick, an Harry an ther wives that gal haint in no gyarden of Eden now, you may say what you please! Well, jest about that time, here come this here creetur you call Danny Lemmons. He pestered me mighty A BABY IN THE SIEGE 227 nigh to death. I could nt take two steps away from the house but what he d jump out of the bushes an ast me to have im. An a whole passel of people up an tol me I d better marry im. They lowd a cripple man wuz better n no man. Well, they aggervated me tell I married im." Gassy paused here, picking imaginary thrums and ravelings from her apron. Chadwick fumbled with his hat and looked gravely at a sun-spot as round as a dollar dancing on the floor. " I married him," she went on, " an I jumped out of the fryin-pan right spang in the fire. I tell you, he s the Devil claws an all. He led me a dogs life. Jealous! Fidgety! Mean ! Low-minded ! Nasty ! Shucks ! I could nt begin to tell you about that creetur ef I wuz to set here an talk a week. It got so that I could nt no more live wi him than I could live in a pot er bilin water. So when the army come along, I tuck my baby an come away. He vowed day in an day out that ef I ever run off he d foller me up an git the baby thar, an take it off in the woods an make way wi it." At this point the baby in question joined 228 A BABY IN THE SIEGE the conversation with some remarks in its own peculiar language, and Gassy lifted it from the bed, a squirming bundle of red fists and keen squalls, and, turning her chair away from Chadwiek, proceeded to silence it with the old-fashioned argument that healthy mo thers know so well how to use. It was a bundle of such doubtful shape that Chadwiek had his suspicions aroused. " The young tins all right, aint it ? " he ventured. " It dont take atter the daddy, I reckon ? " For answer Gassy bent over the baby, laughing and cooing. " Did e nassy ol man sink mammys itty bitty pudnum pie have a hump on e fweet itty bitty back ? Nyassum did sink so! Mammys itty bitty pudnum pie be mad in de weekly." Chadwiek, listening with something of a sheepish air, understood from this philological discourse that any person who suggested or intimated that the young Lemmons was shapen or misshapen on the pattern of the senior Lemmons was an unnatural and a per verse slanderer. Gassy looked over her shoul der at him and laughed. In a few moments she placed the baby on the bed. A BABY IN THE SIEGE 229 "Well," said Chadwick, shuffling his feet about on the floor uneasily, " you may as well primp up an look your best, bekaze it haint been a half-hour sence I seed Danny Lemmons a-caperin about in town yander." The color fled from the womans face, leav ing it white as a sheet. The blue veins in her temples shone ghastly through the skin. " I hope you aint afeard of im ? " inquired Chadwick, with a pitying glance. " Afeard! Yes, I m afeard to do mur der. I m afeard to have his blood on me !" She spoke in a husky whisper. Her eyes glittered and her lips were drawn and dry. As she reached for her chair, her hands shook. After she sat down, her fingers opened and shut convulsively. " I ve done dreampt about it," she went on, trying to clear her throat, " an its obleege to be. Sevm times has it come to me in my sleep that I ve got his blood on my hans. Hit wuz as plain as the nose on your face. I seed it an felt it. How it come thar, my dreams haint tole me, but I know in reason hit s bekaze I killt im. Well, ef its got to come, I wisht it ud make aste an come, an be done wi it." She went to a little cupboard in one corner 230 A BABY IN THE SIEGE of the room, turned the wooden button that kept the door shut, and drew forth a carpen ters hatchet. The blue steel of the blade shone brightly. It was brand new. " That little thing," she said, holding it up, " cost sevm dollars and a half. But, la ! I reckon its wuth the money." She lifted her apron, showing a small wire bent in the shape of a hook, and suspended from her belt. On this wire she hung the hatchet, the hook fitting into the slit or notch on the inner side of the blade. " Well," exclaimed Chadwick admiringly, u thats the fust time I ever knowd what a notch in a hatchet wuz fer! " " Let a woman lone fer that!" replied Gassy, making an effort to laugh. " I dont reckon Danny Lemmons 11 likely fin you here," said Chadwick after a while. " Who him ! Why, hes the imp of the Ole Boy. Ef he s in town, he kin shet his eyes tight an walk right straight here. The human bein dont live that kin fool Danny Lemmons. I reckon maybe I could take the baby an hide out in the woods; but them ole folks in the house thar, they tuck me in when I did nt have a mouffle to eat ner a A BABY IN THE SIEGE 231 place to lay my head, an now they re in trouble I haint a-gwine to sneak off an leave em I haint a-gwine to do it. They re both ole an trimbly. The ole man says he s got a pile er money hid aroun here somers, but hes done gone an fergot wharbouts he put it at, an he jes vows he wont go off an leave it." She spoke slowly, and paused every now and then to pick at her apron, as though re flecting over matters that had no part in her conversation. " I declare to gracious! " she continued, " its pitiful to see them two ole creeturs go moanin an mumblin aroun, a-pokin in cracks an in the holes in the groun a-huntin fer ther money. They ve ripped up ther bed-ticks an tore up the floor a time or two. They haint got nothin to live fer lessn its the money." Chadwick took his leave as soon as he could do so without breaking the thread of Gassys discourse. He left her talking volubly to the baby, which had jumped in its sleep and woke screaming with fright. " I reckon it dreampt it seed its daddy," said Chadwick, as he bowed himself out. 232 A BABY IN THE SIEGE II Meanwhile Danny Lemmons was carrying out plans of his own. He was a spy without knowing what a serious venture he was en gaged in. He had been roaming around in the Federal lines for a fortnight, playing his fiddle, and cutting up his queer antics. One night, after playing a selection of jigs and reels for a group of young officers attached to General Slocums staff, he said he was going into Atlanta after his baby. " You 11 never go," said one of the offi cers. " I 11 go or bust," replied Danny Lem mons. " If you go you 11 stay," remarked another officer. " I believe you re a Johnny, any how." " I 11 go, and I 11 come back right here, an I 11 fetch my baby back." " Bah ! Bring us some papers. Bansaek Joe Johnstons headquarters. Stuff a map under your jacket. Bring us something to show you ve been in Atlanta. Anybody can sMrmish around here and steal a baby, but not one man in a thousand can go through A BABY IN THE SIEGE 238 the lines and ransack the headquarters of the Johnnies and bring back documents to show for it." " I m the man ! Jest hoi my fiddle till I git back ! " exclaimed Danny Lemmons. How the hunchback passed the Confeder ate lines it would be impossible to say. He was as alert as any flying creature, as cun ning as any creeping thing, as crafty as patience and practice can make a man. He reached Atlanta and made himself as much at home in the streets as any of the little arabs that flitted from corner to corner. He saw Captain Mosely, knew him, and was anxious to avoid him, not because he appre ciated the danger of his position, but be cause he could not successfully play the part of an imbecile under Moselys eyes. He went rapidly down Whitehall Street, keeping up the pretence of idiocy, but when he turned and went into Forsyth, he dropped the character altogether, and became once more the Danny Lemmons of Sugar Moun tain, queer but shrewd. He inquired the way to headquarters. The soldier whom he asked directed him to the provost-marshals office, which was not far from where the 234 A BABY IN THE SIEdE Kimball House now stands. He made no haste to get there, loitering as he went along, and examining whatever was new or strange with the curiosity of a countryman. The result was that when he reached the provost-marshals office, that official was pre paring to send out and arrest him. Captain Mosely had preceded him by half an hour. The moment he entered Danny Lemmons knew that something was wrong, and, quick as a flash, he assumed the character of a " loony." The transition was so quick that it was unobserved by two keen-eyed men who fixed their attention on him as soon as he entered the door. He paused and gazed at them with a deprecating grin. "Is this place whar they conscript them what wants to jine the war ? " he asked. The provost-marshal, a man with a tremen dous mustache and beetling eyebrows, stared at him savagely, but made no reply. " Oh, yes, hit is ! " exclaimed Danny Lem mons, " bekaze they tol me down the road that you-all d let me jine the war." " You are a spy !" said the officer fiercely. " Lord, yes ! Wuss n that, I reckon. I kin run an jump, an rastle. Whoopee, yes! A BABY IN THE SIEGE 235 You aint never seed me rastle. Shucks! I kin tie one ban behin me an put your back in tbe dirt. Yes-sir-ree ! " He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and stood blinking at the officer. The two men who were standing near, one tall and muscular and the other short and fat, exchanged glances and tried their best to keep their faces straight. " When did you leave the Yankee army ? " the officer asked. " Las night! " responded Danny Lemmons. " Lord, yes ! I follered em down from Sugar Mountain, tryin to see what dev ilment they wuz up to. When I wanted to jine in the war, they lowd I wuz crazy in the head an unbefittin in the body." It was a bold stroke, but it was effectual. The fierce look of the officer faded into one of astonishment. " How did you get through the lines ? * he asked. " I walked," replied Danny Lemmons; " I jest had to walk. Them fellers tuck my creetur away from me." " Go in that room there and wait till I call you," said the officer. 236 A BABY IN THE SIEGE " Is that whar they jine inter the war ? " asked the hunchback. " Yes ; I 11 attend to you directly." The officer stepped to the door and shut it, and turned to the two men who had been listen ing to the conversation. " What do you think of him, boys ? " The tall man, whose name was Blandford, was picking his teeth. The short, fat man, whose name was Deomateri, was busily en gaged in polishing his finger-nails. They had served as scouts with Morgan, and later with Forrest. Mr. Blandford passed his hand through his long black hair and shook his head. Mr. Deomateri put his knife in his pocket, kicked his heels against the floor one after the other, and remarked: " If he is nt an idiot, he is the smartest man in this town." " I started to say so," said Mr. Blandford, " but it takes a mighty spraddle-legged if to reach that far." " Well, I 11 tell you," exclaimed the officer, " he has nt got sense enough to know how to tell a lie. I 11 keep him here until Mosely or his man comes, and then I 11 give him a drink and turn him loose." A BABY IN THE SIEGE 231 As this seemed to dispose of the matter, neither Blandford nor Deomateri made any response. The clerks in the office were busy writing out reports and filling out blanks of various kinds, and to these for a time the offi cer in charge devoted his attention. The room in which Danny Lemmons had been placed was the provost-marshals private office. On his desk was a rough map of the inner defenses of Atlanta. In the pigeon holes were a number of papers of more or less importance. In the farther end of the room was a door. It was locked, and the key gone, but in one of the pigeon-holes was a large brass key. Danny Lemmons noted all these things with inward satisfaction. He took the key, unlocked the door, and saw that it led into an alley-way. Then he re placed the key in the pigeon-hole, leaving the door unlocked. He waited five or ten minutes, and then stuck his head into the outer office, exclaiming : "Dont you all run off an leave me by mysef, bekaze I haint usen to it." The clerks laughed, and even Mr. Blandford smiled sadly, but there was no other response. Danny Lemmons shut the door. 238 A BABY IN THE SIEGE seized the map, and as many papers as he could conveniently stuff under his jacket and in his pockets, opened the back-door noise lessly, locked it again, threw the key away, and turned swiftly into Pryor Street. After a while Chadwick made his appear ance. He went in and modestly inquired if Captain Mosely had been there. The pro vost-marshal, who was at that moment talk ing to Blandford and Deomateri about their experience with Morgan, recognized Chadwick as the person who had been sent in pursuit of the spy. " Did you catch your man ? " he inquired. " Ketch nothin," responded Chadwick. " A creetur-cornpany could nt ketch him." " Well, we ve caught him ! " " Wherebouts is he ? " inquired Chad wick. " In my room there." " In there by hisself ? " Yes." " Well, sir," exclaimed Chadwick excitedly, " I 11 bet you a thrip agin a bushel of chest nuts that he aint in there." " What do you know about him ?" in quired Mr. Blandford. A BABY IF THE SIEGE 239 "Bless you, man! I seed his capers in Sugar Mountain." " Go in there and see if he s the man you are hunting for." Chadwick went to the door, opened it, and glanced casually around the empty room. " Oh, yes ! Hes the man I m huntin fer," he said as he turned away. " How do you know ? " asked Deomateri, observing an expression of humorous disgust on Chadwicks face. " Bekaze he aint in there, by jing ! " The provost-marshal rushed into the room, followed by Blandford, Deomateri, and the whole army of clerks. He saw that his desk had been rifled of important papers, and he sank in a chair, pale and trembling, and gasp ing for breath. " Gentlemen," said Blandford to the clerks, " get back to your work. There is nothing to excite you." Then he closed the door and turned to the officer. " My friend, you will demoralize your office, and destroy all disci pline. Brace up and give your backbone a chance to do its work." " I am ruined," cried the officer. " Ruined! That miserable thief has stolen the papers that 240 A BABY IN THE SIEGE I ought to have sent to headquarters jesterday." " Well, you nee nt to worry about it," remarked Chadwick dryly, " bekaze Danny Lemmons has fooled lots smarter folks n you." in But for Blandford and Deomateri, a great uproar would have been made in the provostmarshals office. That functionary sat in his chair and cried " Ruined ! " until he had been fortified with two or three hearty slugs of whiskey, and then the blood began to flow in his veins and he took courage. In fact he became bloodthirsty. He walked the floor and waved his arms, and swore that he would crush Danny Lemmons when he caught him. He would hardly remain quiet long enough to agree to any rational plan for the recap ture of the hunchback, but he finally con sented to let Chadwick have his saddle-horse, Blandford and Deomateri having horses of their own. The three were soon in the saddle, and now it was Chadwiek who undertook to con duct the expedition. By his direction, Mr. A BABY IN THE SIEGE 241 Deomateri was to ride out Peters Street, Mr. Blandford out Whitehall, while he himself was to ride out Pryor and turn into White hall Street, some distance out. At the junc tion of Whitehall and Peters they were to meet and decide on their future course of action. This plan was faithfully carried out, but it came to nothing. At the point where they met the two thor oughfares had ceased to be streets, and merged into a public road, with a growth of timber-oak and pine on each side. "Why do we come here?" inquired Deo materi. Blandford merely shook his head. He had dismounted and was leaning against his horse, making a picturesque figure in the green wood. " Well," responded Chadwick, " we might jest as well be here as to be anywhere, accordin to my notions. This road is open plum to Jonesboro an furder. We Ve been keepin it open. The Yanks are bent aroun the town like a hoss-shoe, an this road runs right betwixt the pints where their lines dont jine." " Thats so," remarked Blandford, regard ing Chadwick with some interest. 242 A BABY IN TEE SIEGE " Well, then, we aint got nothin to do wi how Danny Lemmons got in. Hes slick er n sin, an he mought a run the picket lines at night; but shore as shootin, he cant run em in the daytime. Now, how 11 he git out?" " Perhaps he has already passed here," Deoraateri suggested. " Well, sir," said Chadwick, " he s come to town on business, an he 11 try to attend to it." Then Chadwick told his companions about his adventure with Mrs. Lemmons and the baby. " By George, IJeo ! " exclaimed Blandford, swinging himself into his saddle, " this be gins to look like sport." " For the baby ? " inquired Deomateri. " For all hands," said Blandford gayly. " But ef Mizzes Lemmons lays her eyes on Mister Lemmons," remarked Chadwick, " the baby 11 lack a daddy, an the lack 11 be no Joss." Thereupon, the three men turned their horses heads into Peters Street and rode to ward the hill where Chadwick had found Mrs. Lemmons. They rode leisurely, watch ing on all sides for the hunchback. When A BABY IN THE SIEGE 243 they reached the point where McDaniel Street now crosses Peters, they saw a woman coming toward them waving her arms wildly, and shouting something they could not hear. " Ef I aint mighty much mistaken," said Chadwick, "that s the lady we ve been talkin about. Yes, sir!" he exclaimed, as she came nearer, "that s her, certain and shore! That hellian has gone an got the baby!" He spurred his horse forward to meet the woman, who, as soon as she saw him, screamed out: " You told him, you sneakin wretch ! You told him wher my baby wuz! You did you did -^ you did ! " In the extremity of her excitement she would have laid her hands on Chadwick, but his horse shied, and kept him out of her reach. " Whats this ? Whats this? " exclaimed Blandford. " Oh, I m distracted ! " cried Gassy, break ing down. " My baby s gone ! That slink of Satan has took an run off wi my poor little baby! " she turned to Chadwick and then to the others. " Oh, ef you ve got any pity in you, run and overtake him. Jes 244 A BABY IN THE SIEGE ketch m an hoF im tell I can git my hans on im." " Which way did he go ?" asked Blandford. " He went right up dat away ! " exclaimed a negro woman excitedly. She pointed across the railroad. "He come lopin long here, an he went right up dat away. I seed im. I wuz right at im. Yasser. Eight up dat away." She was both excited and indig nant. " He look mo like de Devil dan any white man I ever is see. An de baby wuz cryin like it heart done broke ! " Oh, Lord V mercy, what shall I do ? " cried Gassy, wringing her hands. " T aint been long, nuther," said the negro woman, " kaze I been stanin right here waitin. I des knowd sumpn ner wuz gwine ter happen. I des knowd it. Why nt you all run on an ketch im ? I boun ef I had a hoss an could ride straddle I d ketch im." " Oh, what shall I do ? " cried Gassy. What is now McDaniel Street was not then laid off. It was a short cut through a cow pasture, running through an open country, dotted here and there with clumps of pine A BABY IN THE SIEGE 245 and scrub oak. Through this the horsemen rode at a swinging gallop, followed at some distance, as they could observe, by Gassy, the negro woman, and a few stragglers, whose curiosity had been turned into sympathetic interest. Chadwick bore toward the left calkin of the line that he had described as a horseshoe, and in a little while his companions heard him shout and saw him wave his hand. They swerved to the right and rode toward him, their horses running easily. As soon as they caught sight of the fugitive, Blandford rode at full speed until he had passed the hunchback, and then turned and rode to ward him, holding in his right hand a cavalry pistol that sparkled in the sun. The hunchback saw that escape was impos sible, and he made no further attempt. He ceased to run and sat down at the foot of a huge pine, making a vain effort to soothe the frantic baby, which had screamed until its cries sounded like those of some wild animal in mortal agony. This and the sinister aspect of the hunchback so wrought upon Blandford that he leaped from his horse and would have brained the creature on the spot, but for the intervention of Deomateri, who was in time to seize his arm. 246 A BABY IN THE SIEGE " Watch out, Blandford ! " cried Deomateri in great good-humor; " dont scare the baby. If it lets out another link it will go into spasms. Come here, chicksy," he said to the baby. " Poor little thing! Hushaby, now! " He tried in vain to quiet the child. but it would not be quieted. He walked up and down with it, clucked to it, tried to give it his watch to play with, dandled it in his hands, but all to no purpose. It continued its hoarse and gasping cries. Meanwhile, Chadwick and Blandford were giving attention to Danny Lemmons. They searched him from head to foot, and took from him every scrap of paper they could find on his person. Blandford did the search ing, and he was not at all gentle in his meth ods. The hunchback was captured, but not conquered. " Good God Amighty, gentermen ! cant a man come an git his own baby atter his wife s run off wi some un else ? How you know she did nt tell me to take an take it home to Sugar Mountain ? Dad blast you ! Ef you 11 jest gi me a fair showin I kin whip arry one on you ! I m a great min to spit in your face! " A BABY IN THE SIEGE 247 Thus he raved as Blandford searched him, and even after his hands had been securely tied with a tether that had hung at Deomateris saddle. Meanwhile the baby refused to be comforted. It seemed to be nearly ex hausted, and the hoarse and unnatural sounds it made were more pitiable than its natural cries would have been. At last Chadwick offered to take it. To his astonishment it held out its little hands to him, and immedi ately ceased its frantic efforts to cry as soon as it found itself in his arms, though it con tinued to moan and sob a little. But the child was no longer afraid, for it looked up in Chadwicks face and tried to smile as it nestled against his shoulder. The problem of the baby temporarily solved, the three soldiers would have made toward the city with their prisoner, but here a fresh difficulty presented itself. The hunchback refused to budge. He had ceased his threats and curses, and was now ominously qiiiet. If he had been stoneblind and deaf he could not have more com pletely ignored the orders to get up and move on. " Break off a hickory lim an frail h 11 248 A BABY IN THE SIEGE outn im," said Chadwiek. " Thats the way I use to do when my ole steer lay down in the road." But Deomateri shook his head. For sun dry reasons this mode of moving the hunch back was not to be thought of. While they were holding what Chadwiek called a council of war, Danny Lemmonss wife came in sight., followed by the negro woman who had been the means of the capture of the hunch back. " Well," remarked Chadwiek, anticipa tion in his tone, " yander comes Miss Gassy herself. I reckon maybe she 11 up an tell us how to make the creetur move; an ef I aint mighty much mistaken she 11 whirl in an hep us." At this the hunchback showed signs of uneasiness. He twisted himself around, as if to see where his wife was. Failing in this, he gathered his long legs under him and rose to his feet. He saw the woman and then glanced furtively around as if to find some avenue of escape. " Gentermen ! " he cried, " you-all 11 have to keep Cassy offin me, bekaze she s plum, ravin deestracted when she gits mad." His A BABY IN THE SIEGE 249 voice was a whine, and anxiety had taken the place of craftiness in his countenance. The woman strode forward steadily, but not hurriedly. Her face was pale, and there was a drawn and pinched expression about her mouth that might have been mistaken for grief or fear. Chadwick pressed toward her with the baby, as though proud of the oppor tunity to deliver it into her arms. But she passed by him with an impatient gesture, in spite of the renewed whimpering of the child at sight of her; and the negro woman came forward and took it instead. The hunchback would have made a barri cade of Blandford, but that blunt soldier seized him by his arm and brought him face to face with his wife. " You mean, sneakin, thievin houn !" she cried, gazing at him and breathing hard. Then she untied her bonnet, which had fallen on her shoulders, and threw it on the ground, her hair falling loose as she did so. Still catching her breath in little gasps, she began to roll up her sleeves, showing an arm as hard and as firm as that of a man. " Oh, no !" exclaimed Blandford, perceiv ing what she would be at. " None of that, 250 A BABY IN THE SIEGE maam. Dont scratch him. We want him to look as pretty as possible." " Mister ! " she cried, flinging her head back and turning to Blandford, " dont git me stirred up. You seed what he wuz tryin to do, but you dont nigh know what he kin do. Ontie him, an he kin whip arry one of you, fair fist an skull, rush an scramble." Her tone was both argumentative and appeal ing. As she spoke a shell went spinning and singing overhead. The hunchback dodged involuntarily, but the woman remained un moved. " I tell you, now," she went on, " you dont know him. You cant carry him to town ef it wuz to save the world. He d hamstring your creeturs an git away. You think hes cripple, an he does look cripple, but the man dont live that kin out-do him. You think I want to take the inturn on him, but I dont. I aint nothin but a woman, but me an him is got a score to settle. On tie him, ef he aint done ontied hisself, an give him a knife or a pistol or anything. I dont want nothin but my naked hans." Her bosom rose and fell convulsively and her hands refused to remain at rest. " Dont do it, gentermen ! " exclaimed the hunchback. She 11 kill me." A BABY IN THE SIEGE 251 The tragic features of the situation es caped Blandford and Deomateri, but the sim ple mind of Chadwick recognized them, recognized, in fact, nothing else. " I think," said Blandford, winking at Deomateri, " that we d better untie this chap until he and his wife settle this family quar rel. What do you think about it ? " " Oh, by all means let the family quarrel be settled! " remarked Deomateri in a mat ter-of-fact way. The result of this grim humor could hardly have been foreseen. In some way the hunch back had worked his hands loose from the thong that bound them, and he made a des perate dash for liberty. The woman was after him in a moment. As she ran, she drew forth from under her apron the hatchet that Chadwick had seen her conceal there. She was hardly a match for the hunchback in a foot-race, but passion, hatred, the venom that had supplanted anxiety for her child, lent swiftness to her feet, and the soldiers, who stood watching as if paralyzed, expected every moment to see her bury the hatchet in the mans deformity. She poised her glitter ing weapon to strike, but at that moment her 252 A BABY IN THE SIEGE foot slipped and she fell to the ground. Then there was a zooning sound in the air, a thud, and a deafening roar. A shell had burst, as it seemed, full upon pursuer and pursued. The soldiers, watching, saw the shell strike and felt the concussion shake the ground at their very feet. They saw a volume of dust and turf spout violently upward. When this had subsided they rode forward to view the scene. The woman, unhurt, sat on the ground, half-laughing and half-crying. Not far away lay Danny Lemmons, torn, shat tered, and lifeless. " You all thought," said Gassy simply, " that I wuz atter him by myself. But I knowd all the time the Almighty wuz wi me." She rose, seized the baby, and hugged it tightly to her bosom, where it lay laughing and cooing. THE BABYS FORTUNE THE random shells flung into Atlanta dur ing the siege by your Uncle Tecumsehs gun ners were sometimes very freakish. The his tory of that period, written, of course, by those who have small knowledge of the facts, proceeds on the supposition that the town was in a state of terror, and that every time the population heard a shell zooning through the air it scuttled off to its cellars and bombproofs, or to whatever holes it had to hide in. This doubtless occurred during the first day or two of the siege, but human nature has the knack of getting on friendly terms with danger. As the Rev. Sam Jones would remark, those who hourly defy the wrath of heaven are not likely for long at a time to remain in awe of random shells. Yet the freaks of these random shells were very queer. One of the missiles (to mention one instance out of many) went tumbling 254 THE BABY'S FORTUNE down Alabama Street, turned into Whitehall, following the grade, and rolled through the iron lamp-post that stands in front of the old Jamess Bank building. It was moving along so leisurely that a negro lounging near the corner tried to stop it with his foot. He was carried off with a broken leg. The lamp post stands there to this day, having been thoughtfully preserved as a relic that might be of interest, and if you give it a careful glance as you pass, you 11 see the jagged hole grinning at you with open-mouthed famil iarity. A family living on Forsyth Street, near where that thoroughfare crosses Mitchell, saw a weary-looking Confederate sauntering by and thoughtfully invited him in to share a pot of genuine vegetable soup, a very rare delicacy in those days. It chanced that the soldier was Private Chadwick, and he was prompt to accept the proffered hospitality. Morever, he was politer about it than any other private would have been. Private Chadwick, being the guest, was served first, but, just as the plate of soup was placed before him, a shell came tearing through the dining-room, entering at one end THE BABY'S FORTUNE 255 and going out at the other, grazing the ceil ing in its passage and bringing down a shower of plastering, dust, and trash. Chadwick was almost as quick as the shell. He snatched his hat from his knee, and when his hosts had recovered from their momentary alarm they saw him sitting bolt upright in his chair using his head covering as an umbrella to shield his soup from the shower that fell from the shattered ceiling. " Howdy and good-by," he said. " You might a spiled my dinner, but you ranged too high to spile my appetite." " I can see why you are holding your hat over your plate, and I m sorry I did nt have something of the kind to hold over mine," remarked the lady who had invited him in; " but I cant imagine why you are sitting so straight in your chair." " Well, maam," replied Private Chadwick, " seein as how you ve been so kind, I 11 tell you the honest truth. I was afeared if I humped too much over my plate that the next shell d take me to be the twin of Danny Lemmons." Naturally this aroused the curiosity of the ladies there were three of them and 256 THE BABY'S FORTUNE nothing would do but Chadwick must tell that tragic story. When it was concluded, one of the ladies inquired if Danny Lemmons had a twin brother. " No m, not that I know of," said Chadwick, laughing at the agility with which the feminine mind can leave tragedy and fly back to inconsequential trifles ; " but a shell aint got time to choose betwixt folks that favor." You ve heard the story of Danny Lem mons and Gassy Tatum, and so it is unneces sary to repeat the details. They are all true enough, but so antique is the war that they strike the modern ear as lightly as if they had been filched from a manuscript found in the pocket of a stranded play-actor. It is enough to say here that Danny Lemmons was a hunchback a mountaineer who married Gassy Tatum, and who, when Gassy left him, followed her to Atlanta, making his way through the Federal and Confederate lines. He had stolen Cassys baby if a man can be said to steal his own child and was on his way back to the Federal lines, pursued by his wife, by Private Chadwick, and one or two other soldiers, when he was killed by the explosion of a shell. BAST'S FORTUNE 257 That story, was not as old when Private Chadwick told it over his soup as it is now. Indeed, it was as new as any event that hap pened the day before yesterday can be. Pri vate Chadwick told the story as it happened, and he was sure he was telling all of it, but if he could have joined the ladies at their table a week later he would have been able to add some facts that would have caused his small audience to wonder at the mysterious ways of Providence, as, indeed, all of us must wonder when we pause and take the time and the trouble to think about the matter, even in regard to the most trivial and ordi nary events. II When Gassy Tatum (she declared over and over again that she never did, and never could have the stomach to call herself Mrs. Lemmons) left her husband and went to At lanta, she took up her abode with an old couple, who lived in a small ramshackle house that sat on a hill overlooking Peters Street. This hill was called Castleberrys Hill a few years ago, whatever it may be called now, and, before it was graded down to suit the 258 THE BABY'S FORTUNE convenience of contractors who were greedy for jobs, was the most elevated spot in At lanta, and the most picturesque, too, for that matter, for a fine growth of timber crowned the summit. At night the lights of the town twinkled, and Gassy Tatum, sitting on the front steps, after everything had been put to rights, and the old folks had gone to bed, could hear the cracked and noisy laughter of the women who lived in the shanties that were scattered about at the foot of the hill. The place where these shanties were grouped was called Snake Nation, and was proud of the name. Snake Nation slept soundly all day, but at night well, old Babylon has its echoes and imitations in the newest town that ever had a corporation line run around it at equal dis tances from the police court. " What I hear at night makes me sick, and what I see in the daytime makes me sorry," remarked Cassy Tatum to Mrs. Shacklett shortly after she had taken up her abode in the small house that has been described. " You dont have to hear em, and you dont have to see em," remarked Mrs. Shack lett, in her squeaky voice. "Dont bother THE BAJBY'S FORTUNE 259 em and they 11 not bother you; you may depend 011 that." " Well, if they dont pester me tell I pester them." said Gassy, " they 11 never so much as know that I m a-livin." Mrs. Shacklett was very old, but time, that had played havoc with her youth, had in no wise disturbed the fluency of her tongue. Her voice was cracked and squeaky, but that, she said, was asthma and not age. She wore a white cap, that covered her head and ears, and the edges that framed her face were fluted and ruffled. A narrow band of blue ribbon, tied in a bow on the top of the cap, ran down under the fluting and was tied under her chin. She always wore a eape over her shoulders, but beyond this her frock was prim and plain, and the cape was as prim as the frock. Mrs. Shacklett was eighty-seven years old, so she said, and this fact gave a sort of his toric dignity to her presence, where otherwise dignity would have been sadly lacking, for her head shook as with a tremor when she talked, and the uncertainty of old age had taken charge of all her movements. Her mind was fairly good, but it seemed to hesi 260 THE BABY'S FORTUNE iate, fluttering and hovering now and then, as if on the point of deserting the weak and worn body that had been its tenement for so long. And no wonder. Born near the beginding of one epoch-making war, she was on the point of seeing another brought to an end. The republic wanted but twelve years to round out its century. Hers lacked but thirteen to complete it. A historian eager for facts that give warmth and color to his tory might have gathered from her lips an account of many remarkable events and epi sodes that time has given over to oblivion. Of recent and passing events her memory took small account, but of matters relating to the past she could talk by the hour, and with a fluency that was out of all proportion to her ability to deal with the events of the day. Mr. Shacklett, her husband, was not" so old by several years, and he was better preserved physically, but his mind was quite as feeble, and his memory more unstable, if such a thing could be. If he stayed out of bed a quarter of an hour after taking his toddy at night, he betrayed an almost uncontrollable THE BABY'S FOBTUNE 261 tendency to shed tears over the price o wool hats and the scarcity of tea and coffee. At such times it was pathetic to hear his wife try to soothe and console him. " Cover up and go to sleep, honey, and you 11 soon disremember all about it/ she would say. " Thats the way I do. The war cant last always, nohow." " Cant it ? How do you know it cant ? Hey ? It 11 outlast me. You mark my words." In half a minute he d be asleep and snoring as loud as the feeble muscles of his chest would permit. It was with this time-worn and childish couple that Gassy Tatum took up her abode, when, with her baby on her arm, she ran away from her husband. She had come into Atlanta on the Western & Atlantic Kailroad, and, in wandering about, searching for a lodging, chanced to come upon this house. Though it sat high on Castleberrys Hill, it was too small to be conspicuous, and so she knocked at the door. She afterward declared that Providence sent her there, for when she arrived the old couple were in quite a pre dicament. A negro woman who had long ministered to their simple wants had just 262 THE BABY'S FORTUNE died, and Gassy found them sitting by their cheerless hearth, unable even to Mndle a fire. She did not hear their feeble response to her knocking, but boldly opened the door and walked in, expecting and hoping to find the house vacant. Her surprise at seeing the old people sitting there was so great that she uttered an exclamation, and this bred in the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Shacklett suspicions that they were long in recovering from. " I declare ! you gi me sech a turn that a little more an I d a drapped the baby." " You thought we was dead, did you ? Hey ? " inquired Mr. Shacklett with as near an approach to sarcasm as he could bring to voice and face. "You thought we was dead, and you d come foraging aroun to see what you could pick up and tote off. You did, did you? Hey? Well, we aint dead, by grabs, and nowheres nigh it, I hope. You hear that, dont you ? Hey ? " The thought that they had been mistaken for dead people, when, as a matter of fact, they were so very much alive, caused such an energetic flame of indignation to burn in Mr. Shackletts bosom, that he rose from his chair,, and, holding by the chimney-jamb, pre- THE BABY'S FORTUNE 263 tended to be hunting for his pipe, which, as a matter of fact, was on the floor beside him. He realized this after a little, but in his agi tation he found great difficulty in getting into his seat again, and would have fallen had Gassy not made a step forward and caught him with her free hand. Mr. Shacldett was not at all mollified by this timely aid, but kept his anger glowing. " You see we aint dead, dont you ? Hey ? T aint all the time that I m shaky this way. Its only because our niggers dead. She was a good nigger, a right good nigger. We raised her from a baby. She's dead, but we aint, by grabs ! One time a man come in the door there. He was lots bigger n you are, but we did nt want him about, and I had to get my gun and shoot him. He 's dead, but we aint. No, by grabs. We dont look like we re dead, do we ? Hey ? " All this time Gassy Tatum stood with her baby on her arm, staring at the old people with open-mouthed wonder, not knowing what to say or do, and unable to frame any excuse for her intrusion that she thought likely to appeal to their childish understanding. But she caught a humorous twinkle in Mrs. Shack- 264 THE BABY'S FORTUNE letts eye, and was on the point of saying something, when the old lady spoke. " Dont mind him," she said. " He never shot anybody. Why, Marty would nt harm, a flea." " Oh, I would nt, would I ? Hey ? " he cried peevishly. " Who made you so wise ? Hey ? How do you know but what I shot a man whiles you was asleep and had him drug off ? How do you know but what I done it ? Hey ? " Mr. Shacklett turned half around in his chair and glared at his wife. " Tell me that hey ? " " Why, honey, I would nt a believed it if I d a seen it much less when I did nt. You 11 make this good woman here believe that a parcel of murderers is harbored in this house, and then she 11 go out and set the law on us." This rather cooled Mr. Shackletts indigna tion, but it still smouldered and smoked, so to say. " Much I care for the law," he said, trying to snap thumb and middle finger, a trick he failed to compass, though he made three trials. " Aint we got no propty rights ? Hey? Must we set down here and be run THE BABY'S FORTUNE 265 over and trompled on ? Hey ? You may if you want to, but not while the breath of life lasts will I set down here and be run over and trompled on." " Why, honey, who s a-trying to run over and tromple on you ?" Mrs. Shacklett in quired. " Hey ? Did you ax me who ? " cried Mr. Shacklett. " Scores and scores of folks if they was nt afeard. But I dar em to so much as try it. I jest dar em to ! " With that he settled himself more comfort ably in his chair, and closed his eyes, as if he were willing to give scores and scores of folks all the opportunity they wanted if they had any idea of running over and trampling on him. As Mr. Shacklett said nothing more, Gassy Tatum thought proper to explain her intrusion. " The Lord knows I m sorry I come in your door," she said, " an Id go right out, but I d be worried mighty nigh to death ef I went off leavin you-all believin that I thess walked in here cause you re both ol an cripple." Mr. Shacklett fired up again at this sug gestion. " Crippled ? Who told you we was 266 THE BABY'S FORTUNE crippled ? Hey ? You may thank your stars if you aint no more crippled than what I am. You hear that, dont you ? Hey ? " Gassy paid no attention to him, but ad dressed herself to Mrs. Shacklett. " I tell you now, I m new to this town, bran new. It haint been two hours sence I landed here, an this is the first door I ve knocked at. I knocked a dozen times, an I stood thar waitin to hear somebody say, ' Go off, or Come in, an when I did nt hear nothing I says to myself, says I, I 11 thess go in any how, an rest myself, an fix the baby up, an maybe thars a well in the yard whar I kin git a drink of water. I never no more spected to see you-all a-settin here than I spected to fly. Hit took me back so I did nt know what to say. I haint had sech a turn in I dunno when." " If you want water," said Mrs. Shacklett, " you 11 find a bucket out there on the shelf and a well in the yard. We aint had no body to draw us none sence they come after our dead nigger. I tell you I was mighty sorry to lose the gyirl. She was worth twenty thousand dollars if she was worth a cent." Mr. Shacklett turned half around in his THE VABY'S VOBTUNS! 267 chair. " Hey ? Twenty thousand dollars ? Not in our money." " Hush, honey ! I said paper-money," re marked his wife soothingly. " Hey ? not good paper-money." Seeing no end of such a dispute as this, Gassy deposited her bahy unceremoniously on the floor and went out after the water. The child kicked its pink feet from under its skirts, turned its head toward Mrs. Shacklett, and laughed cutely. The old lady nodded her head pleasantly and chirruped as well as she could. Mr. Shacklett, hearing a noise he could not understand, called out for information. " Hey ? Whats that ? What did you say ? Hey ? " Receiving no answer, he turned his head and saw the baby sprawling on the floor. Instantly he became very much ex cited. " Run and call her back ! What do you mean by setting flat in that cheer and letting her run off and leave that young un here ? Hey ? Aint you gwine to jump up and call her back ? Hey ? Do you want me to go ? Tell me that hey ? If I do she 11 rue it." He was making a painful effort to :rise 268 THE BABY'S FORTUNE from his chair when Gassy reentered the room smiling and bringing a tin dipperful of fresh water. " Humph !" he grunted, and sank in his seat again. " I reckon you think I ve been gone a mighty long time, but I had to rench out the bucket an the gourd too, they was so full er dirt an dust," Gassy explained. " I allers said I d never let no nigger fool wi nothin I had to put to my mouth, an I 11 say it agin." " They re not the cleanest in the world," remarked Mrs. Shacklett, taking the dipper in her trembling hand. "Have you drank?" " No m," said Gassy. " Atter you is man ners." She still held the handle of the dipper gently, but firmly, and guided it to Mrs. Shackletts lips. Mr. Shacklett heard this last remark and turned his head and stared at Gassy. And somehow the expression of displeasure and suspicion cleared away from his face. " I 11 have some, too, if you please," he said. " I would nt slight you fer the world," replied Gassy, and went after another supply of water. THE BABY'S FORTUNE 269 Mr. Shacklett leaned sidewise as far as was safe for him, and touched his wife on the arm. She looked at him, and he nodded sol emnly in the direction Gassy had gone. " What now? " she asked. " Whats she up to now ? Tell me that ? Hey?" " Shes gone after some water for you." "Humph!" grunted old Mr. Shacklett. You 11 find out before you re much older." Once more Gassy came in, bringing the water, and Mr. Shacklett drank to his hearts content. Then Gassy gave the baby some water. Of course it had to strangle itself, as babies will do, but instead of crying over it, the child merely laughed and wanted to get on the floor again, where, flat on its back, it promptly gave itself up to the contemplation of the problem that its chubby fingers pre sented when all ten were held tip to tip close to its wondering eyes. " Thats a right down pretty baby," re marked Mrs. Shacklett. " I dunner so much about the purty part," replied Gassy with modest pride, " but he s the best baby that ever was born. Why, he haint no more trouble than nothin in the world." 270 THE BABY'S FORTUNE The child, as if understanding that it was the subject of comment, dropped the study of its fingers, caught the eye of its mother, kicked its pink feet in the air, and fairly squealed in its enthusiastic delight at being able to sprawl about on the floor after its long imprisonment in Gassys arms. " I thess wish to goodness you d look at im ! " exclaimed Gassy. " Haint he thess too sweet to live ! " Then she switched from vigorous mountain English to a lingo that the baby could better understand and appre ciate. " Nyassum is mammys fweetnum pudnum pie, - de besses shilluns of all um shilluns. Nyassran is ! " " Hey ? " inquired Mr. Shacklett. Receiv ing no answer, he found one for himself. "Humph!" At this high praise so beautifully bestowed, the baby kicked and crowed and had a regu lar frolic. Then it suddenly discovered that it needed more stimulating food than it had found in the tin dipper, and Gassy, seating herself in a chair, promptly satisfied the just demand. And in the midst of it all, the baby went fast to sleep, making a pretty pic ture as it lay happy in its mothers arms. THE BABY'S FORTUNE 271 Mrs. Shacklett, whose age had not robbed her of the maternal instinct that is so deeply implanted in a womans breast, looked all around the room as if remembering some thing, and suddenly remarked : " Lay him on the bed in the next room. Nobody sleeps in there." "Hey?" said Mr. Shacklett; and then, " Humph !" " Ef you reely mean it, an think it wont put you out the least little bit in the world," suggested Gassy. The tone of her voice was serious, and there was a touch of sadness in it which the ear of Mrs. Shacklett did not fail to catch. " Lay him in there on the bed," she re peated. " Hey ? " inquired old Mr. Shacklett. "Humph!" " Ef you only knowd how mighty much I m obleeged to you, I d feel better," re plied Gassy, the tears coming to her eyes. She carried the child into the adjoining room, placed it on the bed, darkened the win dows as well as she could, and went back to where the old people were sitting. " Now, haint there nothin I kin do ? 272 THE BABY'S FOETVNE Haint there nothin I kin put to rights ? " she inquired. " Nothing I d like to ask you to do," replied Mrs. Shacklett, shaking her head. " We aint got no claim on you." " Why, haint you human, an haint I human ? What more do you want than that ?" There was a touch of wonder in Cassys voice. But Mrs. Shacklett shook her head doubt fully. Fortunately for all concerned, Mr. Shacklett roused himself. " I aint had a bite of breakfast yet. Now when are you going to have dinner? Tell me that. Hey ? " "We ve had nobody to cook for us sence our nigger died," Mrs. Shacklett explained. " I hated mightily to give her up. She was worth two thousand dollars and she did everything for us." Gassy opened wide her eyes. " Well, for the Lords sake ! No brekfus an mighty little prospec of dinner ! No wonder you haint able to walk. Its a sin an a shame you did nt tell me about it when I walked in the door. Why, I blieve in my soul you two poor ol creetursd set thar an starve THE BABY'S FORTUNE 273 before you d ax me to whirl in an warm somethin for you. I 11 not wait to be axed. Thess show me whar the things is an I 11 have you a snack cooked before you can run aroun the house." "Hey?" inquired Mr. Shacklett. "Is dinner ready ? Hey ? Dont I smell meat a-frying somewhere ? Hey ? " " Dont be worried, honey," said Mrs. Shacklett. Then she turned to Gassy. " If you 11 give me your hand and fetch my chair for me, I 11 go in the cook-room and show you where everything is, the best I can." " Did nt I tell you I smell meat a-frying ? Hey ? " cried Mr. Shacklett as his wife went out, bearing on Cassys strong arm. The larder was pretty well stocked, as Gassy discovered, but Mrs. Shacklett found an insuperable obstacle to all their plans. " There s no wood ! " she exclaimed de spairingly. "Why, I seed plenty in the yard while ago," said Gassy. " Yes, child, but its not cut." Gassy laughed. "Not cut? Well, ef I could nt cut wood as good as any man, I ruther think I d feel ashamed of mysef." 274 TEE BABY'S FORTUNE So she found the ax, cut and split two sticks of wood, and soon had a fire on the kitchen hearth. The rest was easy. Cassys cooking- would hardly have passed muster at Delmonicos or any of the fashionable hotels, but for the time and the occasion it was just as good as there was any use for. And, won derful to relate, Mrs. Shacklett, after much hunting and fumbling with keys, drew forth a package of genuine coffee, and grudgingly measured out enough for three cups of the fragrant beverage. Gassy picked up two or three grains and examined them with an interest that partook of awe. " The lands sake ! " she cried; " why, hits the ginnywine coffee ! I haint seed none in so long tell the sights good for sore eyes. I min thess as well as if it t was yestiday the day an hour an the time an place whar I last laid eyes on ginnywine cof fee." She held the green grains in her hand and put them to her nose, but fire had not yet released their fragrance. "Can you parch it?" Mrs. Shacklett asked. "Thess watch me," said Gassy somewhat boastfully. " You need nt put in more n TBE BABY'S FORTUNE 23S three grains fer me," she went on. "Hits too skace an too good to be wasted on com mon folks." After dinner Mr. Shacklett and his wife were much spryer and in a better humor than they had been on Cassys arrival. Mr. Shack lett himself felt so much improved in mind and body that he ventured to walk out on the primitive porch, where he stood and gazed abroad in quite a patriarchal way, clear ing his throat and pulling down his vest with an attempt at stateliness that would have been comic but for its feebleness. It was settled in the most natural way in the world that Gassy should remain as long as she found it convenient to make her home there. In fact it was settled by Gassy her self. Before the day was over she had made herself indispensable to the old people. She looked after their bodily comfort with a deft ness that they were strangers to, and her thoughtfulness was so forward that it outran and forestalled their desires. A few days after she had been caring for the old people, she remarked that she had perhaps pestered them long enough. "Whats that?" cried old Mr, Shacklett. Hey ? " 276 TSM BABY'S FORTUNE "I knew that would be the way of it," said Mrs. Shacklett, and then she fumbled about until she found her handkerchief, and held it to her face, crying softly. This settled the matter so far as Gassy was concerned. She knelt on the floor beside Mrs. Shacklett and petted and consoled her as if she had been a child. Matters went on smoothly until Cassys husband, Danny Lemmons, slipped in one day and stole her baby. The result of that performance is too well known in history to be repeated here. Gassy pursued her hus band and came back a widow, but she wore no weeds. There was only one thing that worried the old people. For years they had been saving and hiding all the gold and silver coin they could lay hands on, and according to their account, told to Gassy in confidence, they had accumulated a considerable store. When their negro girl fell ill, the old people, fearing that she had discovered the hiding-place and would reveal the secret to some of her colored friends who came to visit her, removed their hoard to a new place of concealment. The girl lingered for a week and then suddenly died. THE BABY'S FOETUNE 277 The event was so unexpected to Mr. and Mrs. Shacklett, and threw them into such a state of doubt and confusion, that they were not able to remember where they had hid the money. They had many harmless disputes and spats about the matter, and they hunted and hunted, and poked about in the cracks of the chim ney, and made Gassy lift up the big flat stones in the hearths, and wandered about in the yard, until it made the young woman uneasy. " I declare to gracious! " she would ex claim, " you-all gi me the all-overs ever minnit in the day wi your scratehin in the ashes and pokin in the cracks. You 11 fall over the pots an kittles some of these days and cripple yourself." Mrs. Shacklett had often boasted that she was a Sandedge, and she made no conceal ment of her belief that the Sandedges were higher in the social scale than the Shackletts. Mr. Shacklett could remember this, even if he had forgotten where the money had been hid. Indeed, his mind dwelt upon it. " You ought to know where we put the money. You was there; you helped to do 278 THE BABY'S FORTUNE it. If the Sandedges is so mighty much bet ter than the Shackletts, why nt you mind where we put the money ? Hey ? Tell me that. You re a Sandedge, and I aint no thing but a plain Shacklett. T aint no trouble for me to forget, but how can a Sandedge forget ? Hey ? Tell me that. When it conies down to hard sense I reckon the Shackletts is just as good as the Sandedges." But all this did no good. The old peo ple failed to find their precious store. They sat and tried to trace their movements on the day they had carried the money to its new place of concealment, but they never could agree. The death of the negro was the only event they could clearly remember. Each ex claimed, many times a day : " Oh, I know ! " as if a flash of memory had revealed to them the place, but it always ended in nothing. Gassy soon became accustomed to the con stant talking and hunting for hidden money, and finally came to the conclusion that the old people were the victims of a strange delu sion. She compared it in her mind to the game of hide-tke-switch which the children play. At the last, she paid no more atten- THE BABY'S FORTUNE 279 tion to the matter than if the old couple had been a pair of toddling infants fretting over some imaginary trouble. Ill Now it happened that while Private Chadwick was enjoying his soup under the gentle auspices of the ladies who had invited him to be their guest, his comrades in the trenches and round about had received some news that seemed to them to be very bad indeed. It was in the shape of a rumor merely, but among soldiers a rumor is merely the fore runner of facts. The news was to the effect that General Johnston was about to be re moved and General Hood put in his place. The news had not yet appeared in the news papers, and it had reached the soldiers before it came to the ears of their officers. How, nobody knows. The commander of a brigade in Virginia made the rounds of his camp one night. He saw considerable bustle among the troops fires burning and rations cooking. Inquiring the cause, he was told that the brigade would receive orders to march before sunrise the next morning. The brigadier laughed at this, thinking it was a joke on 280 THE BABY'S FORTUNE the men, but when he returned to his head quarters he found a courier awaiting him with orders for his brigade to move at dawn. In the same way, General Johnstons re moval was well known to the private soldiers before the newspapers had printed the infor mation. The news was not very well received, for, in spite of the fact that they had been retreating from Dalton to Atlanta, the men were well enough acquainted with the tactics of war to know that these retreats were mas terly, and they felt that their general was gathering all his resources well in hand for a decisive battle at the proper moment. General Hood, as the successor of General Johnston, knew what was expected of him by the political generals and the military editors. He was a gallant man and a hard fighter, and he lost no time in showing these qualities. But the responsibility that had been thrust upon him was too great for him. He did the best he could; he hurled himself against General Sherman and inaugurated the series of battles around Atlanta that has made the city and the region round about historic ground. Finally, he swung his army loose from the town and went hurrying toward THE BABY'S FORTUNE 281 Nashville, followed by General Thomas, while Shennan took possession of the Souths sup ply-centre and prepared for his leisurely and unopposed march across the State to Savan nah. When the city was evacuated Private Chadwick found himself among the last of the straggling Confederates who were leaving. He found himself, indeed, with the little squad of riflemen commanded by Jack Kilpatrick, captain of the sharpshooters. The line of retreat led along Whitehall and Peters Streets. Chadwick turned into Peters as much by accident as by design, and was of two minds whether to cut across and go into Whitehall, or whether to go on as he had started. But a thought of Gassy Tatum decided him, and so he kept on the way he was going. Jack Kilpatrick accompanied him for old acquaintances sake, sending some of his dozen men along Whitehall. They talked of old times as they rode along. "Jack, I allers use to think you was the purtiest boy I ever laid eyes on," remarked Chadwick. " Is that so ? " Kilpatrick asked dubiously. He was slim and trim, and his features were very delicately moulded. 282 THE SASY'S FORTUNE '" Yes," replied Chadwick, " and if you was to shave off what little mustache you ve got, blamed if you would nt make a right-down good-looking woman. And you ve got ,a hand not much bigger n a nine-year-old boy. I reckon thats the reason you draw so fine a bead sech a long ways off." Kilpatrick smiled boyishly, and, as if to show what a nice girl he could be, threw a leg over the pommel of his saddle and rode sidewise. Far before them they could see clouds of dust rising slowly. JBehind them and a little to their left they could hear the Federal guns feeling of the town, and occa sionally a shell more venomous than the rest flew over their heads, crying as shrilly as if it had life. This was particularly the case when they came to Castleberrys Hill, which was a more conspicuous eminence then than it is now. Occasionally one of the missiles would strike the brow of the hill and fly shrieking off, or bury itself in the red clay with a queer fluttering sound. As they came to the brow of the hill, Chadwick saw Cassy Tatum standing on the porch of the house where she lived. He waved his hand and asked her if she intended THE SALT'S FORTUNE 283 to remain. Mistaking his gesture, or not understanding his words, she came running along the pathway. "Howdy?" said Chadwick; "why aint you refugeein wi the rest ? " "I declare I dunno," she replied, with a laugh that was more than half pathetic. " I oughter, I reckon. Some of the Shacklettss kinnery come by in a carryall soon this mornin an tuck em away, whether or no. I like to a cried, they went on so. They did nt want to go one bit, an they hollerd an went on so that it made me feel right down sorry." " What 11 you do ? Why nt you go wi em ? " inquired Chadwick. " Well, I had sevm good reasons," replied Gassy, trying hard to joke, " an all sevm of em was that the folks did n ax me. It looked mighty funny to me that they d let the poor ol creeturs lire here all this time at the mercy of the world, as you may say, an then come an snatch em up an bundle em off that-away." " Did they ever find their money ? " Chad wick asked. " Not a thrip of it," said Cassy. " Thats 284 THE BABY'S FORTUNE the reason they went on so when ther folks come atter em. Ef they did nt have no money they thought mighty hard they had it." At that moment a shell came hurtling through the air. The pang of it sounded so near that Gassy dodged, and even the troopers glanced quickly upward. Then there was a crashing sound close at hand. Those who had their eyes turned toward the house and Gassy was one of them saw shingles fly from the roof, saw the top of the chimney sink out of sight, and saw a part of the roof itself sway and fall in. Gassy stood for an instant paralyzed, and then flinging her arms wildly, and yet helplessly, above her head, sprang toward the house with a scream of anguish. " My baby ! my baby! " she cried. " Oh, my poor little baby! " Chadwick and Kilpatrick and their com rades sprang after her. As she reached the house one of the walls that had been pushed outward by the falling roof cracked loudly and seemed to be about to fall. Chadwick would have dragged Gassy out of the way, but she shook his hand off furiously, seized the wall by one of the gaping edges, and THE BABY'S FORTUNE 285 pulled it down. Then she rushed at the roof itelf, seized the ends of two of the rafters, and made as if she would overturn the whole affair. " "Wait! " commanded Kilpatrick. " If the 3roung un s under there you 11 fetch the whole roof down on him." This brought Gassy to her senses, and when a woman is clothed and in her right mind she knows by instinct that the best she can do is to cry. Gassy tried to do this now ; but her eyes were dry, and all the sound that her parched throat and trembling lips could utter was a low and continuous moan so pitiful that it wrung the hearts of the rough soldiers. To add to the strain and suspense of the occasion, a smothered, wailing cry was heard somewhere in the midst of the ruins. At this Gassy, instead of making another effort to tear away the roof by main strength, as Chadwick expected her to do, fell flat on the ground with a heart-rending shriek of despair and lay there quivering and moaning. In the midst of all this, Kilpatrick had the forethought to cast his eye occasionally on the portion of the street that lay beyond the railroad. He now saw a small squad of horse- 286 THE BABY'S FORTUNE men in blue riding down the incline. He ran to his horse, and his companions, with the exception of Chadwick, did the same. As for the private, he had made up his mind in a flash that he would rather undergo the diet and discipline of Elmira prison than desert Gassy at that moment. But he had misunderstood Kilpatricks in tentions. Instead of mounting his horse and riding away, the boyish-looking sharpshooter whipped a field-glass from the case that hung on the saddle, and proceeded to carefully inspect the approaching Federals, who were moving cautiously. The inspection seemed to satisfy him, for he closed the glass, went out into the open ground, and waved his handkerchief so as to attract the attention of the horsemen in blue. They stopped, and their horses huddled together in the road as if they were engaged in consultation. Then one of them, a tall man on a powerful sorrel, detached himself from the group and came riding up the hill at an easy canter, his rifle glittering as it lay across his bridle arm ready for instant service. " Well, dag-gone your skin, Johnny! What are you doin here this time er day ? Haint THE BABY'S FORTUNE 28T you the same measly chap that tried to duck me in the Chattymahoochee when we stuck up a white flag an went in washin ? Why n the world did nt you do what I told you go home to your mammy an let grown men fight it out ? You re a good shot though, dag-goned ef you aint! " He spoke with a strong Georgia accent, but was from Indiana. The two men had faced each other on the vedette line for so many weeks that they had become acquainted. In fact, they were very friendly. Once when the " Chattymahoo chee " (as the tall Indianian facetiously called that stream) divided the opposing armies, the advance line of each went in bathing to gether every day, and they grew so friendly that the Confederate generals issued a pro hibitory order. Briefly Kilpatrick explained the situation to the Federal sharpshooter, and by this time his companions were on the ground. The force was sufficiently large now to lift the roof (which was small, and old, and frail), and turn it over. The scheme was danger ous if the baby happened to be alive, but it was the best that could be done, and it was carefully done. 288 THE BABY'S FORTUNE Gassy still lay upon the ground moaning pitifully and clutching convulsively at the tussocks that came in contact with her iingers. The spectacle that the fallen roof had hid caused the men to utter exclamations of wonder. Mistaking the purport of these, Gassy Tatum writhed on the ground in an agony of grief, and refused to answer when Private Chadwick called her. The sight that met the eyes of the men was enough to carry them away with aston ishment. The baby, unhurt, lay on the floor in the midst of hundreds of gold and silver pieces, and was trying to rub the dust out of its eyes. " Dag-gone my skin !" exclaimed the tall Indianian ; " that baby s pyore grit! " Then he added, with a chuckle, " Literly kiverd with it." Chadwick went to Cassy, and, stooping over, laid his hand on her shoulder, saying gently : " Jest come an look at him, Cassy !" Mistaking his tone and intention, she writhed away from his hand, crying out : " Oh, kill me ! kill me before I kill myself. Oh, please make haste ! Oh, me ! He was all I had in the worl! " THE BABY'S FORTUNE 289 "Whats the matter?" asked the tall Inilianian. " She thinks the babys dead," replied Chadwick. " Dag-gone it! " laughed the Indianian j " why nt she git up an see ? " The laugh startled Gassy so, that she sat up and looked around, throwing her hair be hind her shoulders and making an instinctive effort to tidy up. " What s the matter ? " she moaned. " Whats he laughin at ? " " I reckon its because you re worse hurt than the baby is," responded Chadwick. " Where is he ? " she cried. " Oh, dont le me go there ef he s dead er mangled! Please, mister, dont le me go where he is ef hes mashed ! " " All a-settin, maam !" said the Federal sharpshooter. " Jest walk this way." At that moment the baby began to cry, and Gassy leaped toward it with a mother-cry that thrilled the soldiers. She snatched the child from the floor and hugged it so closely to her bosom that it had to kick and fight for air and freedom. Then she began to cry, and in a few moments was calm and appar- 290 f THE BABY'S FORTUNE ently happy, but there was a haggard and drawn look in her face that no one had ever seen there before. Chadwick, observing this, turned to Kilpatrick and remarked : "If she aint lost twenty pound in the last quarter of an hour I m the biggest liar that ever drawed breath." This was an exaggera tion, perhaps, and yet it was descriptive too. "You see what the Yankee shell fetched you, maam," said the Federal sharpshooter. For the first time Gassy saw the gold and silver pieces that were strewn about. " The land er the livin! " she exclaimed. " Thats them poor ol creeturs money." She looked at it in a dejected, dispirited way. " You-all kin take it," she went on, speaking to the Federals. " Take it an welcome ef you 11 thess le me alone. My babys money enough for me." " Its dag-goned invitin," replied the In- dianian, laughing, "but you 11 have to excuse us this time. It might be a pick-up ef we caught a passel er Johnnies with it but that money there belongs to the baby, if it belongs to anybody. Would you mind loanin me your apron a minnit? " Gassy untied her apron with one hand, THE BABY'S FORTUNE 291 and threw it to the Federal sharpshooter, and in a few minutes he and the rest of the men had picked up all the coins they could find and tied them in the apron, which was a stout piece of checked homespun. The general estimate was that the money amounted to two or three thousand dollars. Then came what seemed to be the most important question of all. Should Gassy go with the Confederates or remain behind with the Federals ? " You 11 have to make up your mind in three flirts of a chipmunks tail," remarked the Indianian. " The cavalry 11 be along in less 7n no time." "I dont see how I kin go," said Gassy doubtfully. " Ride behind me," suggested Kilpatrick. " But what about my baby ? " " Oh, I 11 look after that bundle," said Private Chadwick. Another man could carry the money; and so it was all arranged. " Dont I look it ? " laughed Gassy, when she had mounted behind Kilpatrick. " Yes m, you do," bluntly replied the In dianian. " Set square on the hoss ef you can, an dont squeeze the feller too tight. 292 THE BABY'S FORTUNE He s nothin but a young thing." Where upon both Gassy and Kilpatrick blushed, and even Chadwick seemed to be somewhat dis concerted. So they rode away, and when, far out Peters Street, Gassy chanced to glance back to Castleberrys Hill, she saw that it was crowded with a swarm of cavalrymen. But somehow she felt safe. She seemed to know that they would come no farther, for a time at least. She and her escort traveled as rapidly as they could, and Gassy, her baby, and the money were soon safe from pursuit. Mr. and Mrs. Shacklett were never heard of again by either Chadwick or Gassy Tatum. After the war these two married and settled in Atlanta, and one day Gassy heard that some one had been digging the night before on Castleberrys Hill for a box of gold that had been buried there during the war. Chad wick laughed over the report, but Mrs. Chad wick saw no joke in it. She was combing her sons hair at the time, and she stooped and kissed him. AN AMBUSCADE IT befell that in the first scuffle that oc curred between the Federals and Confed erates somewhere in the neighborhood of Jonesboro, when Sherman was preparing to swing loose from his base at Atlanta, Jack Kilpatrick, commanding a squad of sharp shooters, was seriously wounded. It was all his own fault, too. He was acting outside his regular duties. Some excited colonel called for a courier to send an unnecessary message to an imaginary regiment. Kilpat rick, seeing no courier at hand, rode forward and offered his services. Mounted on his black mare, he made it a point to expose himself. He could nt help it for the life of him. It was in his blood. So, instead of going to the rear, he galloped out between the lines. A big Irishman on the Federal side, whose name was OHalloran, leveled his rifle at the horseman. Then he 294 AN AMBUSCADE lifted his eyes from the sights and took an other look at the venturesome rider. " T is the young Johnny, or Oi m a naygur ! " he exclaimed. Then he drew a long breath. " Oi was in wan or tetchin the traygur." But there were other marksmen farther up the line who were not nice in such matters. There was a rattling fire of musketry. Plato, Kilpatricks body servant, saw his young mas ter reel in the saddle as the reins fell loose from the hand that held them saw him reel again as the mare turned of her own accord and brought her rider whirling back to the point of departure where he fell fainting in the arms of his own men. Kilpatrick had taken many chances before and escaped unscathed; but this time a bul let went tearing through his shoulder, enter ing obliquely, and going out at the collar bone under his chin. He was promptly carried to the rear by his men, followed by Plato, leading the black mare. A surgeon dressed the wound hastily, remarking that it was a pity the young man could nt be carried where he might get the benefit of careful nursing. Atf AMBUSCADE 295 "I kin kyar im home, suh," said Plato. "' T aint so mighty fur ter whar my youngmarster live at." " How far ? " asked the surgeon. " In de neighborhoods er forty mile, suh," replied Plato. The surgeon shook his head. " He cant ride horseback. But he 11 die if he s left here." " I wuz layin off fer ter borry a buggy somers," remarked Plato. The surgeon considered the matter. " Well, get it," he said presently, "and be quick about it. I 11 pad him up for traveling the best I can. Its one chance in ten thousand. But hes young and strong, and the one chance is his." Plato sprang on the black mare, and in less than half an hour had returned with a two-seated buggy. " Thats the very thing," said the surgeon. The rear seat was taken out, the cushions of both seats were placed on the bottom, and over these a hospital mattress and some blan kets were spread. On these the wounded man was placed, and then the surgeon deftly packed a dozen layers of cotton batting 296 AN AMBUSCADE under the shattered shoulder. Altogether Jack was made as comfortable as a badly wounded man could be under the circum stances. " It is now ten oclock," said the surgeon, looking at his watch. " You ought to have him in his own bed by six this afternoon. Kill the horse on level ground, but bring it to life in the rough places. You know what I mean." " If he hurts that mare/ young Kilpatrick declared, with as much energy as he could command, " I 11 see him about it when I get well." " I wish ter de Lord you could git up an see me bout it now," remarked Plato with unction. " Kaze dish yer filly is sho got ter pick up er foots an put em down agin dis day ef she aint never done it befo." Whereupon he climbed back into the buggy, looked around at his young master to see that everything was all right, and then gave the mare the word. Though the spir ited animal had been broken to harness by Plato himself, she had been under the saddle so long that this new position fretted her. She was peevish as a woman, Plato said. AN AMBUSCADE 297 The harness chafed her, the shafts worried her, and the rattle of the buggy disturbed her. She wobbled from one side of the road to the other, and went about this unusual business as awkwardly as a colt. Finally Plato stopped her in the road and cut the blinders from the bridle. This was a great relief to the high-strung creature. She could now see what was going on in front, behind, and on both sides. She gave a snort of sat isfaction and settled down to work with a will that pleased the negro immensely. Plato knew every foot of the road, having often traveled it at night, and so the only stops that were made were when the wounded man wanted water, which was to be had from the roadside springs. The journey was made without incident, and Plato, while driving rapidly, had driven so carefully that when he reached home his young master was fast asleep. And the mare, while tired, was in fine condition, only her rations of food and supply of water had to be cut short until after she had thoroughly cooled off. Plato had hardly got out of sight of the smoke of the firing before the Confederates fell back before the great odds before them 298 AN AMBUSCADE and moved aside from Shermans path. They were not in a panic, but the pressure was too heavy, and when they retired they were compelled to leave some of their wounded in a field hospital in charge of the surgeon who had sent Jack Kilpatrick home. The enemys skirmishers promptly moved up to the position vacated by the Confederates. Among the foremost was a big soldier who went directly to the rude shelters that had been rigged up to accommodate the wounded. He went through each and examined the faces of the wounded. " What the devil are you after ?" asked the surgeon in a tone in which curiosity and irritability were strangely mixed. "Tis nothin but a slip of a lad Oim lookan for, sor," replied the big soldier with extraordinary politeness, considering the time and occasion. " There are no wounded Yanks here," the surgeon explained, smiling pleasantly as he glanced at the puzzled, good-natured face of the Irishman. " T is a Johnny lad Oi m lookan for, a by not bigger n me two fists. Oi seen um gallopin on a black horse, an I seen um AN AMBUSCADE 299 stagger whin a dirty blacksmith in the line give it to um in the shoulder, the black guard that he was ! " " Oh ! " exclaimed the surgeon; " that was Jack Kilpatrick." " The same, sor." "How did you come to know Kilpatrick ?" " Sharpshootin, sor. We had the divvles own time thryin to ploog aych ither bechunethe two eyes. But we wuz chums, sor, be twixt the lines. Oi sez to meself, sez Oi, Oi 11 be lookan afther the lad, whin we brush the Johnnies away, an maybe fetch im a docther. Is he clane done for, sor ? " " He 11 need a doctor before he gets one, I m thinking," remarked the surgeon, and then he told how Jack Kilpatrick had been sent home. The big Irishman seemed better satisfied, and pushed forward with the advancing lines. H Plato was a very wise negro, considering his opportunities, and as he sat on the edge of the veranda next day, near the window of his young masters room, he shook his head and wondered whether lie had acted for the 300 AN AMBUSCADE best in coming Lome, whether it would nt have been better if his young master had been left to take his chances with the rest in the rude field hospitals. For it was perfectly clear to Plato that the home people were thoroughly demoralized. " Ole miss," this was Jacks mother, a woman of as clear a head and as steady a hand as anybody in the world, a woman of unfailing resources, as it seemed to her friends and dependents, was now as nervous and as fidgety and as helpless as any other wo man. " Young mistiss," ^ this was Jacks sister Flora, a girl with as much fire and courage as are given to women, was in a state of collapse. Now, if it had been some body elses son, somebody elses brother, who had been brought to their house wounded, these ladies would have been entirely equal to the occasion. But it was Jack, of all per sons in the world; it was the son, the brother. Courage fled like a shadow, and all resources were dissipated as if they had been so much vapor. The wounded man had slept fairly well during the night, but in the early hours of morning his fever began to rise, as was to be AN AMBUSCADE 301 expected, and then he became delirious. He talked and laughed and rattled away with his jokes, he was noted for his dry humor, and occasionally he paused to take breath and groan. And all that the resourceful Mrs. Kilpatrick and the courageous Flora could do was to sit and gaze at each other and wipe their overflowing eyes with trembling hands. Plato was sent to the village, nine miles away, for the family doctor, but he returned with a note from that fat and amiable old gentleman, saying that he had just been in formed that the entire Federal army was marching to surround the village, and, as for him, he proposed to stay and defend his family. This news went to Aunt Candace, the plantation nurse, in short order. Plato was her son, and he felt called on to tell her about it. Aunt Candace made no comment whatever. She knocked the ashes out of her pipe, leaned it in a corner of the fireplace, tightened up her head handkerchief, and waddled off to the big house. Plato knew by the way his mammy looked that there would be a fuss, and he hung back, pretending that he had some business at the horse lot 302 AN AMBUSCADE " Whar you gwine ? " asked Aunt Candace, seeing he was not coming. " I m des gwine " " Youer des gwine long wid me, dat s whar you des gwine. An you better come on. Ef I lay my han on you, you 11 feel it, xnon." " Yassum, I m comin," replied Plato. He was very polite when he knew his mammy had her dander up. Aunt Candace marched into the big house with an air of proprietorship. " Wharbouts is dat chile ? " she asked in a tone that a stranger would have described as vicious. " Hes in here, Candace," replied Mrs. Kilpatrick gently. Caudace went into the room and stood by the bedside. The weather was chilly, and she placed her cold hand on Jacks burning brow. Instantly he stopped talking and seemed to sleep. " God knows, honey," she said ; " dey d set here an let de green flies blow you befo dey d git up out n der cheers an hep you." Mrs. Kilpatrick and Flora forgot their grief for a moment and stared at Aunt Candace AN AMBUSCADE 30B with speechless indignation. This was just what the old negro wanted them to do. " Plato ! " she cried, " take de ax an run down ter de branch an git me yo double hanful er dogwood bark, not de outside ; I want de skin on de inside. An I want some red-oak bark, a hatfull. An dont you be gone long, needer. Keze ef I hafter holler at you, I 11 jump on you an gi you a frailin. Now, ef you dont believe it, you des try me." But Plato did believe it, and he went hur rying off as rapidly as he used to go when he was a boy. " Whar dat house gal ? " asked Aunt Candace abruptly. " 111 call her," said Flora; but the girl that moment appeared at the door. " Whar you been, you lazy wench ! " cried Aunt Candace. " Go git me a pan er col water an a clean towel; I dont keer ef its a rag, ef its a clean rag." Then she turned her attention to Jack. " God knows, honey, ef you cant git nobody else ter do nothin fer you, ol Candace 11 do it. Shes nussed. you befo an she 11 do it again." Aunt Candaces words and manner were 304 AN AMBUSCADE calculated and intended to exasperate her old mistress and her young mistress. " If you think I intend to submit to your impudence " Mrs. Kilpatrick began with as much dignity as she could command under the circumstances. But Aunt Candace was equal to the emergency. Before her mistress could say what she intended, the old negress rose from the bedside, her eyes blazing with wrath. "Whose imperdence? Whose imperdence? Ef I felt dat away, I d a sot down yander an nussed my own sickness an let dis chile die. He s yo chile; he aint none er mine ; an yit youer settin dar holin yo hans an wipin yo eyes, whiles de fever fair bunin im up. " He aint none er my chile, yit ef he aint got none ef my blood in im, its kaze nig ger milk dont turn to blood. I dont keer what you say ; I dont keer what you do ; you cant skeer me, an you cant drive me. 111 see you bofe in torment, an go dar my self befo I 11 set down an see Jack Kilpat rick lay dar an die ! You hear dat, dont you ? Now, go on an do what you gwine ter do !" AN AMBUSCADE 305 Here was defiance, revolt, insurrection, and riot, and yet somehow Mrs. Kilpatrick and Flora felt relieved when the explosion came. Aunt Candace was very much in earnest, but it needed something of the kind to rouse mother and daughter from the stupor of help less grief. They began to move about and set things to rights, and in a little while all their faculties came back to them. The house girl returned with cold water and a towel, and Aunt Candace, entirely recovered from her outburst of anger, said to Flora : " Ef you want ter do sumpn, honey, set on de side er de bed here an foF dis towel up an dip it in de water an wring it out an lay it on yo brers forrerd. Hoi yo han on it, an soon ez you feel it gittin warm, dip it in de water an wring it out an put it back agin. An make dat gal change de water off an on." With that Aunt Candace waddled out into the kitchen, where she busied herself making preparations for the decoctions she intended to brew from the red oak and dogwood bark which Plato had been sent after. . To those in the house Plato seemed to be making a good long stay at the branch, but -S06 AN AMBUSCADE Plato was doing the best he could. He had so much confidence in his mammys skill and experience, and was so anxious in behalf of his young master, that he took pains in select ing the trees from which he was to chop the bark. And then he was very particular as to the quality of the bark; and, in order that there might be no mistake about it, he chipped off a larger supply than was neces sary. This took time, and when he was ready to start back to the big house he heard his mammy calling him, and there was a cer tain vital emphasis in her remarks that caused him to return in a run. In fact, Aunt Candace had infused new energy into everybody about the place. The little negroes that usually swarmed about the yard prudently went to play in the barn, but they were careful not to make a noise that would prevent them from hearing her voice if Aunt Candace should chance to want one of them to run on an errand. The plantation medicine chest was ransacked in search of something, Mrs. Kilpatrick and her daughter knew not what. At any rate the search was a relief. They no longer sat supinely in the midst of their grief. They made little jour- AN AMBUSCADE 07 neys to the kitchen, where Aunt Candace was brewing her simples, and she watched them out of the corner of her eye. " Sposen he d a got kilt dead," she re marked; " whatd you a done den? Better go long an set down an nuss yoseves. I 11 nuss Jack Kilpatrick. An t wont be de fust time I Ve nussd im all by mysef needer." Scolding and domineering, Aunt Candace went ahead with her brewing, and in a little while had a crock of dogwood-bark tea ready, as well as a red-oak bark poultice. Her remedies were simple, but she had the greatest faith in them. She applied the poultice to the wound on the shattered collar bone, and compelled Jack to drink a tumbler ful of the dogwood-bark tea. The dose was a heroic one, and bitter in proportion. To a certain extent both remedies were efficacious. The poultice was a cooling astringent, and the tea allayed the fever, for somewhere in the dogwood-tree, between root and blossom, there lies the active principle of quinine. Jack fell into a deep sleep, from which he was only aroused by one of those remarkable events that could have occurred in no country but the American republic. 308 AN AMBUSCADE III When Plato started back to the house from the spring branch, where he had been chopping the red-oak and dogwood bark, he was in such a hurry that he forgot his axe, and when he wanted it again, a few hours afterwards, he hunted all over the yard for it, until he suddenly remembered where he had left it. He started after it, but as he was going down the spring branch he heard a clatter in the road to the left, and, looking in that direction, saw two Federal cavalry men galloping by. "Ah-yi!" he exclaimed, as if by that means he could find vent for surprise, and slipped behind a tree. The day was raw and drizzly, and there was no movement on the plantation. The negroes were in their cabins, the horses were in their stable, the mules were standing quietly under the long shed in the lot, and even the sheep that were in the ginhouse pasture were huddled together under shelter, nibbling at a pile of waste cotton seed. The riders were couriers, and Plato, observ ing them, saw that they did not pursue the road to the village, but turned off squarely to AN AMBUSCADE 309 the right. For Sherman had already begun his famous march to the sea. He had begun it, indeed, before the little skirmish in which Jack Kilpatrick had been wounded, and, though Plato had no knowledge of the fact, he traveled with his young master for fifteen miles between the parallel lines of the ad vancing army, Slocums corps being one of the lines and Howards corps another. Ignorant of this fact, Plato was very much surprised to see the Federals riding by. " Dey er pursuin right on atter us," he remarked aloud. " A little mo en dey d a cotch us, sho. An dey may ketch us yit. Kaze Marse Jack cant hide out, an I know mighty well I aint gwine nowhar whiles Marse Jack got ter stay." He turned back and went to the big houge, but once there he remembered his axe and started after it again. He found it where he had left it. He picked it up and flung it across his shoulder. As he raised his head he saw a big Federal soldier sitting on a horse fifty yards away, watching him intently. " Name er Gawd! " he exclaimed. He stared at the soldier, un decided whether to run or to stand where he was. Then he saw the soldier beckoning to 310 AN AMBUSCADE him, and he made a great pretense of hurry ing forward. " T is the name of the place Oi m afther/ said the soldier. "Suh?" exclaimed Plato. " Who lives in the house ferninst us ? " " Ole Miss an Miss Floe," replied Plato. " Ah, to the divvle wit ye!" exclaimed the soldier impatiently. " T is the name Oi m axin ye." " Dis de Kilpatrick place, suh." " Where s the wounded Johnny ? " "Who? Marse Jack?" inquired Plato cautiously. " What make you ax dat ? Marse Jack aint never hurted you, is he ? " "Is he killt intirely?" the soldier persisted, misled by the serious aspect of the negros countenance. "How you know he been hurted?" Plato asked. " Oi seen im whin the ball pasted im," re plied the soldier, with a careless toss of his head. " Where ve ye tuck im ? " " What you gwine do wid im when you fin im ? You aint gwine ter take im ter prison ner nothin er dat kin, is you ? " " Listen at the gab av im!" exclaimed AN AMBUSCADE 311 the soldier impatiently. " Is the Johnny dead?" "Who? Marse Jack? No, suh. He hurted mighty bad, but he aint daid yit. Aint you one er dem ar gentermens what I seed tradin wid Marse Jack an de yuthers out dar twix de camps ? " " Upon me soul, ye re a long time makin that out. Oi m that same peddler." Platos honest face broadened into a grin. " Marse Jack up dar at de house," he said in a confidential tone. " Ef his min done come back I speck he d be mo dan glad ter see you. But I m skeerd ter kyar you up dar, kaze I dunner what ole Miss, an Miss Floe, an mammy 11 say." " Trust me for that same," remarked the soldier. " Take me down this fince, will ye, an tell em at the house that private OHalloran, av the sharpshooters, has taken the liberty for to call on the lad." The negro proceeded to make a gap in the worm fence, remarking as he did so : "I be bless ef I dont blieve dat ar nag what you er settin on is Marse Lisha Ferrymans saddle-hoss." " Like as not," said private OHalloran calmly. 312 AN AMBUSCADE " Mon ! wont he rip an rar when he miss dat ar hoss ? Ef t wuz me, an I had tooken dat ar hoss, I d be gallopin outn de county by dis time. Kaze Marse Lisha is de mos servigrous white man in deze parts. He mighty nigh ez servigrous ez oF marster use ter be in his primy days. I m tellin you de naked trufe, mon ! " Private OHalloran laughed by way of reply, as he rode through the gap Plato had made in the fence. " Oi 11 go up an put me two eyes on im," said OHalloran, as he turned his horses head towards the house, " an see the look av im be the toime the Twintieth Army Corps comes trudgin by." " Yasser." replied Plato, taking another critical view of the steed the big Irishman was riding. Then he laughed. " Fwhats the joke?" inquired OHalloran. " T aint no joke ef you 11 hear my horn," said Plato. " I wuz des thinkin how Marse Lisha Ferryman gwine ter cut up when he fin out his saddle-hoss been rid off. I dunner whever he 11 kill a Yankee er a nigger, er whever he 11 go out an shoot a steer. He the most servigrous man / ever see, an he AN AMBUSCADE 313 sho did like dat ar boss. You er de onliesf white man what been straddle tin im eeppin* Marse Lislia. I aint gwine to be nowhars roun when he come huntin dat hoss." The horse evidently knew all about the Kilpatriek place, for he went directly to the hitching-post and there stopped. As OHalloran dismounted, Plato took the halter strap, dexterously fastened it to the ring in the post, and promptly disappeared. He evidently had no idea of being- made an interested party in the scene that he supposed would take place when the big Irishman loomed up before the astonished gaze of his mistress and her daughter. But the scene he anticipated did not occur. It is the unexpected that happens, and it happened in this instance. OHalloran went to the door that Plato had indicated, removed his waterproof coat, shook off the shining rain mist, and laid it on a convenient bench seat. Then he took off his hat, roached back his hair, and knocked confidently at the door. He was quite a presentable figure as he stood there, considering all the circumstances. His look of expectation had a genial smile for its basis, and there was a large spark of humor glistening in his fine black eyes. 314 AN AMBUSCADE It chanced that Aunt Candace came to the door in response to the summons. She opened it wide with a frown on her face, but when she saw the Federal soldier looming up she threw up her hands with a loud cry. " My Gawd ! Dey got us ! Dey got us ! " Then recovering herself somewhat, she planted herself in the doorway. " Gway fum here ! Gway fum here, I tell you ! Dey aint no body on de place but wimmen an childem, nohow ! Go on off, man! Dont you hear me?" " Aisy, aisy ! Will ye be aisy, now ? " said OHalloran, when he could get in a word edgewise. " Wheres the lady ? " " What you want wid her ? " cried Aunt Candace. " Gway fum here ! " She stood like a tiger at bay. At that moment Mrs. Kilpatrick appeared in the hallway. The sight of the soldier in blue paralyzed all her faculties except mem ory of the fact that her son lay wounded not forty feet away. Making a supreme effort at self-control, she stood before the big Irish man with white face and clasped hands. Something in her attitude touched the sol dier. He bent low before her. AN AMBUSCADE 315 " No harm to you, mum, beggin your pardon. Oi says to a nagur in passin, Whose iligant place is this? The Kilpathrick place, says he. ' Upon me sowl, says Oi, t will be no harm for to call in an see the by. How is he, mum ? " " Do you know my son ? " Her voice was so harsh and strained that she hardly recog nized it. The big Irishman had no need to answer. The door through which the lady had entered the hall was thrown open, and a weak voice called out: " If that is OHalloran, let him come in." " T is that same," replied the Federal sol dier with a smile. But he waited for the lady to lead the way, and then followed her. On the bed lay Jack Kilpatrick, and near the fireplace stood his sister Flora, statuesque and scornful. OHalloran bowed to her as politely as he knew how, but her lip curled disdainfully. An expression of perplexity crept into the honest, smiling face of the Irishman; but this quickly changed into one of genuine pleasure when he caught sight of young Kilpatricks face. " Why, ye re as snug as a bug in a rug! " exclaimed OHalloran cheerily. " Which paw 316 AN AMBUSCADE shall Oi squeeze ? The lift ? Well, t is nearest the gizzard. Ah! but t was a close shave ye had, me by. Oi seen ye comin betwixt the lines, an says Oi, Fwhat the divvle ails the lad ? T was the very word Oi said. Oi seen ye roll in the saddle, an thin Oi put me rifle to me shoulder. Says Oi, If the nag runs wild an the lad falls an his fut hangs, Oill fetch the craycher down. But divvle a run beggin pardin of the ladies. An so yere here, me by, more worried than hurt! " Jack Kilpatrick was really glad to see his friend, the enemy, and said so as heartily as he could. OHalloran drew a chair by the bed, and, in the midst of his talk, which was as cheerful as he could make it, studied the young Confederates condition. He made the wounded man fill his lungs with air several times, and placed his ear close to the expand ing chest. Then he sat twirling his thumbs and looking at the bed-quilt, which was home made and of a curious pattern. Finally he turned to Mrs. Kilpatrick with a more seri ous air than he had yet displayed. " He wants a surgeon, mum. T is an aisy case wit a surgeon standin roun an AN AMBUSCADE 317 puckerin his forrerd; Oi ve seen em do t manys the toime. Wan surgeon in the nick av toime is like to do more good than forty docthers at a funerl." " We can get no surgeon ; that is out of the question," said the lady curtly and positively. Once more OHalloran fell to studying the pattern of the quilt. He even went so far as to count the pieces in one of the figures. Flora and her mother resented this as a piece of unnecessary impertinence, and moved rest lessly about the room. " That is what they call the hroken stove lid," explained Jack, seeing the big Irish mans apparent interest in the quilt pattern. "Now is that so?" said OHalloran. " Upon me sowl it looks as if the whole chimley had tumbled down on top av it. Faith! Oi have it!" he exclaimed with a laugh. " Oi 11 rope in the chap that drinched me the same as if Oi was a sick horse. T will be somethin traynienjous, upon me sowl! He s a bloomin pillmaker from wistern New York." The big Irishman paused and hugged him self with his Samson-like arms as he bent over with laughter. 318 AN AMBUSCADE " Bedad, t will be the joke of the day! " he exclaimed. " T is all laid out as plain as the nose on me face. D ye mind this now, me by : T is no Kilpatrick ye are, for ye Ve thried to kill me manys the odd time. Ye re from Hornellsville, mind that now; upon me sowl, t is the nub av the whole bloomin business." 11 Wheres Hornellsville ? " asked Jack. " In York State, bedad. Ye re Capn Jarvis, av Hornellsville. Ye know the Finches an the Purvises, but ye re too wake for to argy till he fixes ye foine an doses ye." Mrs. Kilpatrick uttered a protest that would have been indignant, but for her apprehen sions in regard to Jack. " He s a darlin of a surgeon, mum," ex plained OHalloran. " T is a business he knows loike a book. Nayther is he bad lookin. The loikes av him is hard for to come up wit in the Twintieth Army Corps clane as a pache an smilin as a basket av chips. T will be no harm to him for to fix an dose ye. Two days av fixin will put ye right, an then he kin ketch his rijmint." "Scoop him up and fetch him in," said Jack, and to this the mother and daughter AN AMBUSCADE 319 made no serious objection, bitter as their pre judices were. Among his own belongings OHalloran was carrying the haversack of his captain, in which he knew there was a coat. This he took out, carried into the house, and hung on the back of a chair near Jacks bed. Then he mounted his horse and rode to the big gate, where he knew the Twentieth Corps would shortly pass. He was just in time, too, for a party of foragers was engaged in gathering up the horses, mules, and cattle that were on the place. These he dispersed in a twinkling, by explaining that the ladies of the house were engaged in caring for a Federal captain, who had been compelled by his wounds to seek refuge there. This explanation OHal loran made to all the would-be foragers who came that way, with the result that the stock on the place remained unmolested. In a lit tle while the Twentieth Army Corps began to march by, and many an acquaintance saluted the big Irishman as he sat serenely on his borrowed horse near the entrance to the wide avenue. The troops going by supposed as a matter of course that he had been stationed there. 320 AN AMBUSCADE * IV To Mrs. Kilpatrick and her daughter, watching this vast procession from behind the curtains of the windows, the spectacle was by no means an enchanting one. Their belief in the righteousness of the Southern cause .amounted to a passion ; it was almost a part of their religion, and they prayed for its success with a fervor impossible to describe. It was a cause for which they were prepared to make any sacrifice, and it is no wonder that they watched the army go by with pal lid and grief-stricken faces. Their despair would have been of a blacker hue if they had not remembered that, away off in Virginia, Eobert Lee was mustering his army against the hosts that were opposing him. The spectacle of this army in blue march ing by was so strange so impossible, in fact that their amazement would not have been materially increased if the whole vast array had been lifted in air by a gust of wind, to dissolve and disappear in the swaying and whirling mist. Presently they saw OHalloran spur his horse toward the moving files, and touch his AN AMBUSCADE 321 cap by way of salute. Then another horse3nan, after some delay, detached himself from the ranks, joined the big Irishman, and the two came up the avenue together. Mrs. Kilpatrick, by an instinct rather than an impulse of hospitality, prepared to go to the door to receive them, pausing in Jacks room to see that everything was ship-shape. As the two came up the broad, high steps, and delayed a moment on the veranda to remove their waterproofs, Flora, peeping from behind the red curtains in the parlor, saw that the sur geon was both young and stalwart. His brown hair was cut short, and the fierce curl of his mustache was relieved by a pair of gold spectacles, that gave a benign and somewhat ministerial air to features that were otherwise firm and soldier-like. He was not as tall as the Irishman, few men in all that army were, but he bore himself more easily and gracefully. When OHalloran knocked at the door, Mrs. Kilpatrick opened it without a moments delay. " T is the surgeon, mum, to see the cap tain." " Good morning, madam. Dr. Pruden, 322 AN AMBUSCADE The man here tells me that Captain Jarvis of a New York regiment lies "wounded in this house." He held his cap in his hand, and his bearing was all that was affable and polite. " Come in, sir," said the lady, inclining her head slightly. He stepped into the hallway, OHalloran following with a broad grin on his face that disappeared as by magic whenever the sur geon glanced in his direction. Mrs. Kilpatriek led the way to Jacks room, to which Flora had flitted when the knock came at the door. Dr. Pruden acknowledged her pre sence with a bow and then turned his atten tion to his patient. " I m sorry to see you on your back, Cap tain Jarvis," he said sympathetically. " And yet, with such quarters and such nurses, I dare say you are better off than the rest of us." " Yes well off," replied Jack in a weak voice that was not borrowed for the occasion. In fact, the surgeon had not arrived any too soon. The wounded man had grown feebler, and his condition was not helped by an occa sional fit of coughing that racked his whole body and threatened to tear his wounds open afresh. AN AMBUSCADE 323 Dr. Pruden wiped his hands on a towel that chanced to be hanging on a chair near by, and then proceeded to examine into the wounded mans condition. " You may thank your stars, young man," Jie said after a while, " that these ladies were charitable enough to forget the color of your coat there and give you the snelter and the care and attention that were absolutely neces sary." The note of unaffected gratitude in the young surgeons voice was so simple and gen uine that Flora felt a momentary pang of regret that he should have been made the victim of the Irishmans crafty scheme. But the pang was only momentary ; for what the Irishman did he had done for Jacks sake, and that was a sufficient excuse. And yet the knowledge that the surgeon had been de ceived made both mother and daughter more considerate in their demeanor more genial in their attitude than they could otherwise have been. OHalloran stood watching the ladies and the surgeon with a quizzical expression, keep ing his hand in the neighborhood of his mouth to screen his smiles. Finally he 824 AN AMBUSCADE seemed to discover that he could not safely remain and maintain his dignity. " Oi 11 be goin, captain," he said to Jack. " The ladies 11 look afther yure belongins. Termorrer whin the rear guard comes by maybe yell be well enough for to be lifted in the ambulance I brung ye in." " What amuses you ?" inquired the sur geon, seeing the Irishman trying to suppress a laugh. " Upon me word, sor, Oi was thinkin av the drinch ye give me whin Oi was ailin. Says Oi: Ef t is as bitter to the captain here as t was to me, he 11 be on his feet in a jiffy." Whereupon OHalloran turned on his heel and went out, closing the door gently after him. Dr. Pruden went to work with a will. He smiled at the big poultice that Aunt Candace had applied to the wound made by the bullet in its exit, but found that the inflammation had been controlled by it. Then with the aid of the fair Flora, who offered her assist ance, he proceeded to deal with the wound on the shoulder, which he found to be in a much more serious condition. AN AMBUSCADE 325 He had no need to probe the wound, but saw at once that, while it was a painful and dangerous hurt, no vital part had been touched. To Flora, who asked many ques tions in a tone of unaffected concern, he ex plained that the cough was caused by inflam mation of the lung tissues, which would pass away as the wound healed. He said that it would be necessary for him to give the wound only one more dressing, which could be done the next morning, if the ladies could put up with his presence for that length of time; or, if they preferred, he could call an ambulance and have the wounded man carried along with the army, though that would be both awk ward and dangerous. The condition of the lungs, he said, was such that the slightest exposure might result in pleurisy or pneu monia. Both the ladies protested so earnestly against the removal of the wounded man that Dr. Pruden inwardly abused himself for having formed the idea that Southern wo men had violent prejudices against the Yan kees. During the discussion Aunt Candace had come in. She knew nothing of the scheme that OHalloran had employed to se- 326 AN AMBUSCADE cure theservices of a surgeon for her young master. When she heard the suggestion that Jack could be placed in an ambulance and carried along with the army she pricked up her ears. " Which army you gwine take him long wid? De Yankee army?" she exclaimed. " Huh ! ef you do you 11 hafter kyar me wid im." " Are you wounded, too ?" Dr. Pruden inquired humorously. " No, I aint; but I wont answer fer dem what try ter take dat boy fum und dis roof." She turned and stared at her mistress and young mistress as if she had never seen them before. Then she raised her fat arms above her head and allowed them to drop helplessly by her side, muttering, " Gawd knows, you aint no mo de same folks dan ef you d a been moulded outer new dirt." And after that she watched Mrs. Kilpatrick and Flora closely, and listened intently to every word they said, and shook her head, and muttered to herself. To Plato she made haste to give out her version of the puzzle that the situation presented. " You kin talk much ez you please bout AN AMBUSCADE 327 de Kilpatrick blood, but hit done rund out." " How come ? " Plato inquired. " Aint you got no eyes in yo haid ? Cant you see what gwine on right spang und yo nose ? Ef mistiss an Miss Floe aint done gone ravin stracted, den I done los what little min I had. You make me blieve dat ole miss d set up dar in de house an let any Yankee dats ever been bornd talk bout takin yo Marse Jack off wid de army, an dat, too, when he layin dar flat er his back wid a hole thoo im dat you kin mighty nigh run yo han in ? Uh-uh! uh-uh! you nee n tell me ! Ole miss would a riz up an slewd im dat what she d a done." Plato scratched his head and ruminated over the puzzle. " Did mistiss an young mistiss bofe say dey want Marse Jack tuck off wid de army des like he is ? " " Dee aint say it right out in black an white, but dey sot dar an let dat ar Yankee talk bout it widout so much ez battin der eyes. An Miss Floe, she sot dar an make out she want ter laugh. I could a slapped 328 AN AMBUSCADE her, an little mo an I d a done it, too." Aunt Candaces anger was almost venomous. " Well, I tell you now," responded Plato, " I seed some mighty quare doins up yander endurin de war." He nodded his head to wards Atlanta. " Dey wuz one time when a river rund right twixt de lines, an it got so dat mighty nigh evey day de Yankees an our boys d go in washin an play in de water dar des like a passel er chillun. Marse Jack wuz in dar evey chance he got, an him an dat ar big Yankee what wuz in de house he up yander watchin de stock right now dey d git ter projickin an tryin ter duck one aner, an I tuck notice dat de big Yankee allers let Marse Jack do de duckin. Fo dat, dey d meet twixt de lines when dey want no rumpus gwine on, an dey d swap an trade an laugh an talk an take on like dey been raised wid one aner." "Huh! Much he look like bein raised wid Marse Jack! " snorted Aunt Candace. " Maybe he de one what want ter take Marse Jack off wid de army," suggested Plato, pursuing the subject. " Ef he is you nee n ter let dat worry you, kaze he 11 be safe wid dat big Yankee, sho." AN AMBUSCADE 329 " No, he wont needer ! " exclaimed Aunt Candace. " How come ? " asked her son. " Kaze he aint gwine, dat s how come ! " Plato shook his head significantly, as if his mammys decision settled the whole matter. Still he was puzzled at the alleged willing ness of his mistress and Miss Moe to allow Jack to be carried off by the Yankee army. Dr. Pruden, the surgeon, was also worried with a problem he could not fathom, and puzzled by a great many things he could not understand. The problem was not very seri ous, as matters go in time of war, but it was very interesting. Why should these Southern ladies, who, his instinct told him, had very bitter prejudices against the Northern people, and especially against the Union soldiers, be tray such interest in Captain Jarvis of New York ? And not interest only, but genuine solicitude, that they sought in vain to con ceal? The surgeon was a young man, not more than twenty-five or thirty years old, but he had knocked about a good deal, and, as he said to himself, he was no fool. In fact, he had a pretty good knowledge of human nature, and a reasonably quick eye for " symptoms." 330 AN AMBUSCADE He cared nothing whatever for such pre judices as the ladies surely had. They were natural and inevitable. They belonged to the order of things. They were to be ex pected. It was their absence in the case of Captain Jarvis that worried him. He could see that these prejudices were in full bloom, so far as he was concerned, and that his pres ence was tolerated only because he could be of some possible service to Jarvis. While dressing Jacks wounded shoulder, which, under the circumstances, was a tedious operation, Dr. Pruden noticed what beautiful hands Flora had. She was helping him the best she could, and in that way her hands were very much in evidence. He observed, too, that these beautiful hands had a knack of stroking the wounded mans hair, and once he saw such an unmistakable caress expressed in the pressure of the fingers that he glanced quickly at her face. The surgeons glance was so frankly inquisitive that Flora blushed in spite of herself; and it was the rosiest of blushes, too, for she instinctively knew that the man suspected her to be desperately in love with a Yankee captain after the ac quaintance of only a few hours. Then she AN AMBUSCADE 381 was angry because she blushed, and was so disturbed and distressed withal that Dr. Pruden, discovering these signs of mental per turbation, was vexed with himself for being the involuntary cause of it. But he was none the less satisfied that he had surprised and discovered the young wo mans secret; and he wondered that it should be so, weaving with his wonderment the pret tiest little romance imaginable. It was such a queer little romance, too, that he could not repress a smile as he bent over Jacks broken shoulder and deftly applied the bandages. Flora saw the smile and with a womans intuition read its meaning. Whereupon, with ready tact, she transferred her anger. She made the surgeon, instead of herself, the object of it, so that when Jacks wounds had been properly dressed, Dr. Pruden found that the young ladys haughtiness toward him was in significant contrast to the tender solicitude she felt for the supposed Captain Jarvis. The surgeon paid small attention to this, as he told himself, and yet it was not a plea sant experience. The careful way in which Flora avoided his glances gave him an oppor- 332 AN AMBUSCADE tunity to study her face, and the more he studied it the more it impressed him. He thought to himself with a sigh that Jarvis would be a lucky fellow should his little ro mance turn out happily. He would have been glad to talk with Jarvis, but that was out of the question now; to-morrow would do as well. So he sat in the library and smoked his pipe, finding some very good tobacco in an old cigar-box on the table, and heard the Twentieth Army Corps go tramping by, the noise the troops made harmonizing well with the dull roar of the November wind as its gusts went through the tree-tops outside. Strangely enough, it all seemed to emanate from the flames in the fireplace. After a while, he leaned his head against the cushion on the back of his chair and closed his eyes. When he opened them again night was falling. On one side of the fireplace Plato sat prone on the floor. On the other side sat OHalloran. Plato was nodding, his head falling from side to side. The big Irishman was leaning forward, gazing into the fire, his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. AN AMBUSCADE 333 " What time is it ? " the surgeon asked. " T is long past yure dinner hour, sor," replied OHalloran, straightening himself. Plato aroused himself, drew a pine knot from some place of concealment, and threw it on the glowing bank of coals. "Mistiss say yo vittles wuz ter be kep warm in de dinin-room, suh," said Plato. " Dey ringded de dinner bell all roun you, an mistiss come in ter ax you ter have some dinner, but she low you wuz sleepin so soun she din want ter wake you up." "Well," replied Dr. Pruden, "a bite of something would nt hurt, thats a fact. I 11 go in and see how Jarvis is, while you have it fixed for me." A candle in the hall showed the surgeon the way to his patients room. There was no need for the surgeon to go there, for Jack was still asleep. The candle had been placed on the floor to keep the light from shining in the wounded mans face, and the room was darker on that account; but it was not too dark for the surgeon to see as he entered the room that Mora was sitting over against the bed. And, if he was not mistaken, she had been holding Jarviss hand, for he saw her 334 AN AMBUSCADE make a quick movement as he entered, and the patient stirred slightly. This seemed to confirm all his inferences, and increased his wonder that such a complication could arise here in the very heart of rebeldom, as it were. He seated himself by the bed and laid his hand on the patients forehead. " How long have you been awake, Jarvis?" he asked presently. " Not long," replied Jack. " How did you know I was awake ? " " Why, I heard you swallow," replied Dr. Pruden. Jack tried to laugh, but he found that his chest was very sore, and the laugh ended in a groan. " Dont try to laugh, and dont talk," said the surgeon, in a professional tone. " You are out of danger now, and you ought to be forever grateful to your nurse." "You mean old Aunt Candace?" sug gested Jack, with dry humor. Dr. Pruden stared at his patient with wide open eyes. " I m surprised at you, Jarvis," he said, in a tone of rebuke. " I mean Miss Kilpatrick, of course. Go to sleep now; your head is still in a flighty condition." AN AMBUSCADE 335 Whereupon Dr. Pruden went from the room into the library again. Soon he was summoned to the dining-room, where, con trary to his expectations, he found Mrs. Kilpatrick presiding at the table. Naturally they fell into a conversation about the war, but both restrained their prejudices, and the talk turned out to be so pleasant though there were critical moments that had to be bridged over with silence that Dr. Pruden thought he had never seen a more charming1 or a more gracious hostess. At early dawn the next morning, OHalloran, piloted by Plato, went into Jacks room, took his captains coat from the back of the chair where he had placed it, folded it up neatly and tucked it under his waterproof. Jack stirred uneasily and then awoke. Plato and the Irishman looked like huge shadows. Aunt Candace, seated in a rocking-chair be fore the fireplace, snored as gently as she could under the circumstances. "What is the matter?" asked Jack. He felt so much better that he wanted to sit up in bed, but found that his shoulder was too sore., 336 AN AMBUSCADE " T is but a whim of mine for to come an kiss me hand to ye, me by. The naygur here says that a squad av Johnnies wint past this half hour. So Oi says to a man Oi know, OHalloran, we 11 while away the toime with a canter acrost the country. The naygur knows the way, me by, an t will take im not more n a hour for to put me betwixt the trottin Johnnies an the stragglers." " What about the other fellow, this doc tor ? " asked Jack. " Oi misdoubt but he 11 board along wid ye," remarked the big Irishman with a broad grin. " T will be a nate way fer to pay im his fay, Oi dunno ! Molly! but Oi hould the taste o his phaysic in me goozle down to this blissed day an hour ! " He patted Jack affectionately on the head, and with " God bless you, me by!" went from the room, followed by Plato. Outside the house Plato turned to the big Irishman. " Boss, you gwine ter walk?" " An lade me horse ? T is not in me bones to do that same." " You you you sholy aint gwine ter take Marse Lisha Perrymans saddle-hoss, is you, boss ? " GOD BLESS YOU, ME BY!> AN AMBUSCADE 337 " Not in the laste, ye booger. T is the horse that will be takin me." " Well, de Lawd knows I dont want ter be nowhars roun in deze diggins when Marse Lisha fin out dat dat horse done been took an tooken." Plato said nothing more, but he shook his head significantly many times, while he was helping the big Irishman saddle Mr. Perrymans favorite horse. In a short while they were on their way, and, by traveling along the plantation by-ways paths known to the negroes and to the cattle OHalloran soon came up with the rear guard of the Twen tieth Army Corps. Meanwhile, after breakfast, Surgeon Pruden dressed Jacks wound again and then began to make his preparations to rejoin the army. He called for the big Irishman, and was a little uneasy when he learned that OHalloran had left before sunrise. Nevertheless, he went on with his preparations, and was ready to take his departure, waiting only for Mrs. Kilpatrick to come into the library where he stood with Flora to tell them farewell to gether, when he heard the clatter of hoofs on the graveled avenue. Looking from the win- 338 AN- AMBUSCADE dow he saw a squad of Confederate cavalry men galloping toward the house. At their head rode a man in citizens clothes, a man past middle age, but with a fierce military air. Flora saw them at the same moment, and the color left her cheek. She knew the man in citizens clothes for Mr. Ferryman, their neighbor, who had a great reputation for ferocity in that section. Mr. Perryman had missed his horse, and had been told by some of his negroes that the man who had taken him had stopped over night at the Kilpatrick place. He was a widower who had been casting fond eyes on Flora for some time, and now thought to render her an important ser vice and give her cause for lively gratitude by ridding her of the presence of the Yankee sol dier, if he were still in possession of the house, or, if he had escaped, to attract her admiration by leading the Confederates to her rescue. Surgeon Pruden drummed a brief tattoo on the windowpane, and then threw back his head with a contemptuous laugh. " I see ! " he exclaimed. " Mv comrade / and myself have been drawn into an ambus cade. I thank you, Miss Kilpatrick, for this revelation of Southern hospitality." AN AMBUSCADE 389 te Into an ambuscade ! " cried Flora, her color returning. " Why, certainly! into a trap! I have but one favor to ask of you, Miss Kilpatrick. Let them take me and leave my comrade. Surely he can do you no harm! " "They will not take you," she said with a calmness he thought assumed. "Will they not? It will be their fault then. If I could escape by raising my finger so I would scorn to do it. Not if I knew they would furnish you a spectacle by hanging me to the nearest tree." She looked at him so hard, and such a singular light blazed in her eyes that he could not fathom her thoughts. " What do you take me for ? " she cried. "For a Southern lady loyal to her friends," he replied, in a tone bitingly sarcastic. " Call them in ! But stay you shall be spared that trouble. I will go to them. I ask only that my comrade be not disturbed." He started for the door, but she was before him. She reached it just as Mr. Ferryman knocked, and opened it at once. " Good morning, Mr. Ferryman," said Flora. 340 AN AMBUSCADE Mr. Ferryman took off Ms hat and was in the act of politely responding to the salute, as was his habit, when, glancing over Floras shoulder, he saw Surgeon Pruden staring serenely at him through gold spectacles. Thus, instead of saying " Good morning, Miss Flora; I hope you are well this morn ing," as was his habit, Mr. Ferryman cried out: " There s that scoundrel now! Surround the house, men ! Look to the windows! I 11 take care of the door ! Watch the side win dow yonder!" Mr. Ferryman was so far carried away by excitement that he failed to hear Floras voice, which called out to him sharply once or twice. He was somewhat cooled, however, when he saw the surgeon drawing on a pair of heavy worsted gloves instead of trying to escape. And at last Flora got his ear. "Mr. Ferryman, this gentleman is our guest. Dr. Pruden, this is our good neigh bor, Mr. Ferryman. Under the circumstances, his excitement is excusable." The surgeon acknowledged his new ac quaintance with a bow, but Mr. Ferrymans surprise gave him no opportunity to respond. AN AMBUSCADE 341 " Why, my God ! the mans a Yankee ! Your guest! I know you are mistaken. Why, he s the fellow that stole my horse! " " My horse is in the stable," remarked the surgeon coolly, yet reddening a little under the charge. " If he is yours, you can have him." "I know how it is, Miss Flora," Mr. Ferry man insisted. " You re a woman, and you dont want to see this Yankee dealt with." " I m a woman, Mr. Ferryman; but I am beginning to believe you are not as much of a man as I once thought you were. This gentleman has saved my brothers life. He is more than our guest; he is our bene factor." Mr. Ferryman stood dumbfounded. As the phrase goes, his comb fell. His mustachios ceased to bristle. The surgeon on his side was as much surprised as Mr. Ferry man. He turned to Flora with a puzzled expression on his face and the look he gave her was sufficient to prevent Mr. Ferry man from throwing away his suspicions.. " Do you mean Jack ? " "Certainly, Mr. Ferryman. I have no brother but Jack." 342 AN AMBUSCADE " When and where did you save Jack Kilpatricks life ? " asked Mr. Ferryman, turning to Dr. Pruden abruptly. " I m sure I could nt tell you," replied the surgeon placidly. He was engaged in wiping his spectacles, but turned to Flora. " Is the wounded man your brother, Miss Kilpatrick ? " " Certainly," she answered. " I m glad of it," he said simply. " You d better be glad! " exclaimed Mr. Ferryman. The surgeon threw his right hand upward. " Nonsense, man ! I d be glad if I had to be shot or hanged in half an hour." " Come in and see Jack, Mr. Ferryman," said Flora, with such a change in her voice and attitude that both men looked at her. Mr. Ferryman stepped into the hallway, and Flora led the way to Jacks room. After that no explanation was necessary. Mr. Ferryman talked to Jack with tears in his eyes, for behind his savage temper he carried a warm heart. He and Jack had been companions in many a foxhunt and on many a frolic, acd there was a real friendship be tween tne two. AN AMBUSCADE 343 Finally Mr. Ferryman turned to Dr. Pruden. " I m mighty glad to meet you, sir, and I hope you 11 allow me to shake your hand. You ve been caught in a trap, but I hope you 11 find bigger and better bait in it than is often found in such places." Just then there was a knock at the door. The captain of the cavalry squad wanted to know what was going on, and why the Yan kee prisoner was nt brought out. The state of affairs was made known to him briefly. " That satisfies me, I reckon, but I aint certain that it 11 satisfy my men." " What command do they belong to ?" asked Mr. Ferryman. " Wheelers cavalry." " Aunt Candace ! Aunt Candace ! " cried Flora. " Give Wheelers cavalry a drink of buttermilk and let them go ! " The hit was as palpable as it was daring, for the men of this command were known far and wide as the Buttermilk Hangers. It need hardly be said that Surgeon Fruden had a very comfortable time in that neighbor hood. Within the course of a few months the war was over, and he was free to go home; but in 1866 he came South and set- 344 AN AMBUSCADE tied in Atlanta. Then, to make a long story short, he married Flora Kilpatrick. At the wedding, Mr. Ferryman, irreconcilable as he was, nudged Dr. Pruden in the ribs and winked. " What d I tell you about the bait in the trap?" THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY IF you are a reader of the newspapers you saw the account they printed the other day in regard to the murder of a young woman by Toog Parmalee, in the neighborhood of " Hatchers Ford." You could nt have missed it. The night editors dished it up as a great sensation, spreading it out under startling black headlines. The account said that two young ladies sisters were walking along the road, when they saw Toog Parmalee come out of the bushes with a pistol in his hand. He had been courting one of them for two or three years, and when she now saw him coming she turned and fled in the opposite direction, while the other sister, not knowing what to think or how to act, stood still. In this way she probably saved her own life, for Toog passed her by in pursuit of the flying girl, who was overtaken and shot in cold blood. These 346 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY harrowing details were spread out with great particularity in the newspapers, and the ver dict, made up by those who furnished the details, was that Parmalee was stark crazy. The only fact given in the account was that Parmalee had killed his sweetheart, and this could have been made clear in much less space than a column of reading matter occu pies, for Hatchers Ford is fifty miles from the settlement where the affair occurred. That settlement is known as Hatchs Clearing, because, as Mrs. Pruett says, nobody by the name of Hatch ever lived there, or on any clearing on that side of Tray Mountain, and as for the other side well, that was in an other part of the county altogether. So much for the first mistake; and now for the second. Was Toog Parmalee crazy ? There s no need for you to take the word of an outsider on that subject, but before you make up your mind go and ask Mrs. Pruett. It is a tiresome journey, to be sure, but it is always worth the trouble to find out the truth. You may go to Clarksville from At lanta, but at Clarksville you 11 have to hire a buggy, and, although the road is a long one, it is very interesting. It would be well to THE CAUSE. OF THE DIFFICULTY 341 take a companion with you, if your horse is skittish, for it will be necessary to open a great many big gates as you go along. All the farms are under fence in this particular region, and the gates are a necessity. Though the road to Hatchs Clearing is a long and winding one, you cant miss your way. You turn into it suddenly and unex pectedly twelve miles from Clarksville, and after that there is no need of making inquir ies, for there are no cross-roads and no " forks " to embarrass you. There s only one trouble about it. You ascend the moun tain by such a gentle grade that when you reach the top yon refuse to believe you are on the summit at all. This lack of belief is helped mightily by the fact that the mountain itself is such a big affair. Presently you will hear a cowbell jingling somewhere in the distance, and ten to one you will meet a ten-year-old boy in the road, his breeches hanging by one suspender and an old wool hat flopping on the back of his head. The boy will conduct you cheerfully if not gayly along the road, and in a little while you will hear the hens cackling in Mrs. Pruetts horse lot. This will give the lad an 348 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY excuse to run on ahead of you. He will ex claim, with as much energy as his plaintive voice can command: " Oh, Lordy ! them plegged dogs is done run the ole dominicker hen offn the nest." Whereupon he will start to running and pretend to go to the horse lot. But it is all a pretense, for when you come in sight of the house you will see three or four, maybe a half-dozen, white-headed children on the fence watching for you, and if you have said a kind word to the boy who volunteered to be your guide, Mrs. Pruett herself will be standing on the porch, the right arm stretched across her ample bosom, so that the hand may serve as a rest for the elbow of the left arm, which is bent so that the reed stem of her beloved pipe may be held on a level with her good-humored mouth. You will have time to notice, as your horse ascends the incline that leads to the big gate, that the house is a very comfortable one for the mountains, neatly weather-boarded and compactly built, with four rooms and a " shed," which serves as a dining-room and a kitchen. Two boxwood plants stand sentinel inside the gate, and are, perhaps, the largest you have ever seen. THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 349 There is also a ragged hedge of privet, which seems to lack thrift. Mrs. Pruett will turn first to the right and then to the left. Seeing no one but the children, she will call out, in a penetrating, but not unpleasant, voice : " Where on the face of the yeth is Sarys Tom ? " Forth from the house will come the boy you met on the road. " Cant you move ? " Mrs. Pruett will say. " Yander s the stran ger a-wonderin an a-recknin what kind of a place hes come to, an here s everbody a-standin aroun an a-star-gazin ana-suckin ther thumbs. Will you stir roun, Tom, er shill I go out an take the strangers hoss ? Ax im to come right in an, here! you, Mirandy ! fetch out that big rockin-cheer ! " It is safe to say that you will enjoy every thing that is set before you; you will not complain even if the meat is fried, for the atmosphere of the mountain fits the appetite to the fare. If Mrs. Pruett likes your looks you will catch her in an attitude of listening for something. Finally, you will hear a shuffling sound in one of the rooms, as if a man were moving about, and then, if it is Mrs. Pruetts " old man" and she well 350 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY knows by the sound she 11 lift her voice and call out: " Jerd ! what on the face of the yeth air you doin in there? You 11 stumble an break some er them things in there thereckly. Why dont you come out an show yoursef? You haint afeard er nothin ner nobody, I hope." Whereupon Mr. Pruett will come out a giant in height, with a slight stoop in his shoulders and a pleasant smile on his face. And he will give you a hearty greeting, and his mild blue eyes will regard you so stead fastly that you will wonder why Mrs. Pruett asked him if he was afraid of anybody. Later, you will discover that this inquiry is a stand ing joke with his wife, for Jerd Pruett is renowned in all that region as the most dan gerous man in the mountains when his tem per is aroused. Fortunately for him and his neighbors, he has the patience of Job. You will find on closer acquaintance with Jerd Pruett that he is a man of considera ble information in a great many directions, and that he is possessed of a large fund of common sense. Naturally the talk will drift to the murder of the young woman by Toog Parmalee. If you dont mention it, Mrs. THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 351 Pruett will, for she has her own ideas in re gard to the tragedy. " Whats bred in the bone will come out in the blood," she will say. " Crazy! why Toog Parmalee wer nt no more crazy when he killt Sally Williams than Jerd there an much he looks like bein crazy ! " And then Mrs. Pruett will hark back to old times, and tell a story that has some curi ous points of interest. It is a long story the way she tells it, but it will bear condensation. It was in the sixties, as time goes, when noxious influences had culminated in war in this vast nursery of manhood, the American, republic. Some of us have already for gotten what the bother was about, never hav ing had very clear ideas as to the occasion o so much desperation. Nevertheless it will be a long time before some of the details and developments are wiped from our memories. As good luck would have it, Tray Mountain was out of the line of march, so to speak. The great trouble encircled it, to be sure, but the noxious vapors were thinner here than elsewhere, so that Tray elbowed his way skyward in perfect peace and security and would hardly have known that the war was 352 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY going on but for one event which came like an explosion on the quiet neighborhood. The echo of the explosion, Mrs. Pruett claims, was not heard until Toog Parmalees pistol went off close to his sweethearts bosom and that was only the other day. Now, the war began gently enough and went along easily enough, so far as Tray Mountain was concerned. Its sunsets were not more golden nor its wonderful dawns rosier on that account. The thunders that shook Manassas, and Malvern Hill, and Get tysburg, gave forth no sounds in the crags of Tray. If the truth must be told, there are no crags nearer than those of Yonah, or those which lift up and form the chasm of Tallulah, for Tray is a commonplace, drowsy old mountain, and it does nothing but sit warming its sway-back in the sun or cooling it in the rain. But Tray Mountain had one attraction, if no other, and the name of this attraction was Loorany Parmalee. In a moment of high good humor, Mrs. Pruett remarked that " ef Jerd had any fault in the world it was in bein too good." Paraphrase this tender tri bute, and it would fit Loorany Parmalee to THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 353 a T. If she had any fault it was in being too handsome. But beauty, it must be borne in mind, is a relative term when you employ it in a descriptive sense. No doubt Loorany would have cut a very unfashionable figure in a group of beautiful girls dressed according to the demands of fashion. She lacked the high color and the lines that are produced by contact with refining influences; but on the mountain, in her own neighborhood, she was a cut or a cut and a half above any of the rest of the girls. Her eyes were black as coals, and latent heat sparkled in their depths. Her features were regular, and yet a little hard, her under-lip being a trifle too thin, but she had the sweetest smile and the whit est teeth ever seen on Tray Mountain. Her figure well, her figure was what nature made it, and that wise old lady knows how to fashion things when shes let alone and has the right kind of material to work on. She had the leisure as well as the material in Looranys case, and the result was that in form and in grace the girl belonged to the age that we see in some of the Grecian mar bles. In the right light, and in the foreground 354 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY of a boulder, with a roguish streak of sun shine ^whipping across her black hair, her sunbonnet hanging between her shoulders, her right hand lifted as if listening, her lips half parted, and a saucy smile dancing in her eyes, no artist in our day and time has ever conceived a lovelier picture than Loorany Parmalee made. To find its counterpart, you will have to hark back to the romantic rascals who laid on the color in old times. Anyhow, Looranys beauty was known far beyond the cloud-skirted heights of Tray Mountain. Nacoochee, the Vale of the Evening Star, had heard about it, and was curious, and far away on the banks of the Chattahoochee, in the county of Hall, a young man knew of it, and became " restless in the mind," as Mrs. Pruett would say. This young mans name was Hildreth; Hildreth of Hall, he was called, because there was a Hildreth in Habersham. Now, it would have been better in the end for Hildreth of Hall if he had never heard of Loorany Parmalee, but small blame should be laid at his door on account of his igno rance ; the future was a sealed book to him, as it is to all of us. It was what he knew and THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 355 what he did that he is to be blamed for, if a dead man can be blamed for anything. It happened in the summer of 1863 that Hildreth of Hall was visiting Hildreth of Habersham, there was some matter of rela tionship between them, and they both con cluded to attend the camp-meeting that was held every year on Taylors Range, a small spur that seemed to have been sent down by Tray to inform the Vale of the Evening Star that it could spread out no farther in that direction. Naeoochee was polite and agree able, and went wandering off westward, where it stands to-day, the loveliest valley in all the world. But Taylors Range so far caught the infection from the valley as to permit its top to spread out as level as a table, and on this table the Christians pitched their rude tents and built them a rough tabernacle, and here they held their yearly campmeeting. To this meeting in 1863 came Hildreth of Hall and his kinsmen. Hither also came a number of people from Hatchs Clearing, and among them Loorany Parmalee. The old people had come to pray, but the youngsters had come to frolic, and the gayest of all was Loorany Parmalee. There were girls from 356 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY the villages round about, as well as girls from the valley, and some of these made believe to laugh at Loorany, but the laugh was against them when they saw the boys and young men flocking after her. Mrs. Pruett had more than half promised to keep an eye on Loorany, and she did her best, but how can a pious, maimed lady keep up with a good-looking girl who is at an age when she is less a woman and feels more like one than at any other stage of her existence? Mrs. Pruett tried good-humoredly to put a curb on Loorany, but the lass laughed and shook the bridle off, and no wonder, con sidering the weakness of human nature. She was beginning to taste the sweets of her first real conquest, for here was Hildreth of Hall, the finest young fellow of the lot, following her about like a dog, and running hither and yon to please her whims and fancies. It is true that John Wesley Millirons had been casting sheeps eyes at her for several years, hanging around the house on Sunday afternoons and riding with her to church on Sundays; but what of that ? Was nt John Wesley almost the same as home folks ? And did he ever see the day that he was as polite, THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 357 or as quick to fetch and carry, or as nimble with his tongue as Hildreth of Hall ? Go along with your talk about solid qual ities ! Girls must enjoy themselves and have fun, and how can you have the heart to ask them to sit for hours with a chap that mopes or is too bashful to talk fluently, or who looks like he is frightened to death all the time ? It is too much to ask. Girls must have a chance, and if you dont give it to them they will take it. So Mrs. Pruett watched Loorauy gallanting around with Hildreth of Hall, and all the other chaps ready to take his place, except John Wesley Millirons, who sat in the shade and made marks in the sand with a twig. Mrs. Pruett watched all this, and gravely shook her head. And yet the head-shaking was good-humored and lenient. If Mrs. Pruett had been asked at the time why she shook her head she could nt have told. She said afterwards that she knew why she shook her head, and she was inclined to plume her self on her foresight. But you know how people are. If matters had gone on smoothly, or even if Loorany had been like other girls, Mrs. Pruett would have forgotten all about 35& THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY the fact that she shook her head when she saw the lass gallanting around with Hildreth of Hall. Mrs. Pruett had a " tent" on the camp ground, a small cabin, roughly, but very comfortably, fixed up, and she stayed the week out. So did Loorany. So did Hil dreth of Hall. But along about Wednesday the meeting had begun on Sunday, John Wesley Millirons flung his saddle on his mule and made for home. Loorany Parmalee and Hildreth of Hall were sitting in a buggy under a big umbrella, and very close together, when John Wesley went trotting by, his long legs flapping against the sides of the mule. He bowed gravely as he passed, but never turned his head. " Dont he look it ?" laughed Loorany, as he passed out of sight up the road that led to Tray. II As may be supposed, John Wesley Millirons was nt feeling very well when he rode off, leaving Loorany sitting close to Hildreth of Hall, under the big umbrella. And yet lie was nt feeling very much out of sorts, THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 359 either. His patience was of that remarkable kind that mountain life breeds, the kind that belongs to the everlasting hills, the over hanging sky. So John Wesley Millirons, as he rode home, laughed to himself at the thought that he was the mountain and Loorany the weather. It was an uncouth thought that could nt be worked out logically, but it pleased John Wesley to hug the idea to his bosom, logic or no logic. And so he carried it home with him and nursed it long and patiently, as an invalid woman in a poorhouse nurses a sick geranium. After the camp-meeting Hildreth of Hall became a familiar figure on Tray Mountain, especially in the neighborhood of Hatchs Clearing. As the year 1863 was a period of war, you will wonder how such a strapping young fellow as Hildreth of Hall kept out of the Confederate army, since there was such a strenuous demand for food for the guns, big and little. The truth is, it was a puzzle to a good many people about that time, but there was no secret at all about it. The Hildreths, both of Hall and Habersham, had a good deal of political influence. If you 360 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY think war shuts out politics and politicians you are very much mistaken. On the con trary, it widens their field of operations and thus sharpens their wits. In the confusion and uproar their increased activity escapes attention. Thus it happened that Hildreth of Hall was a commissary. He had a horse and buggy at the expense of the govern ment, and the taxpayers of the country had to pay him well for every trip he made to Tray Mountain. Under these circumstances, you understand, courting was not only easy and pleasant, but profitable as well, and Hildreth of Hall took due advantage of the situation. He would have made his headquarters at Mrs. Pruetts, but somehow that lady, who was thirty-odd years younger then than she is now, had no fancy for the young man. She politely re jected his overtures, and so he made arrange ments to put up at old man Millirons of all places in the world. It was such a queer come-off that John Wesley used to go behind the corn-crib and chuckle over it by the hour, especially on Sundays, when he had nothing else to do. It was plain to everybody, except John THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 361 Wesley Millirons, that- Loorany was perfectly crazy about Hildreth of Hall, but a good many, impressed by Mrs. Pruetts prejudice against the young man, had their doubts as to whether he was crazy about Loorany. On the other hand, there were just as many, including the majority of the young people, who were certain, as they said, that Hildreth of Hall loved Loorany Parmalee every bit and grain as hard as Loorany loved him. Between the two friendly factions you could hear all the facts in regard to the case and still never get at the rights of it. Once Mrs. Pruett took John Wesley to task in a kindly fashion. " I never knowd you was so clever, John Wesley, tell I seed you give the road to Hildeth o Hall an Loorany a-standin right spang in the middle watin to see which un ud git to er fust. Oh, yes, John Wesley, you er een about the cleverest feller in the worl." "How come, Mis Pruett?" he inquired blandly. " Why, bekaze you was so quick to give way to that chap from below." " Shucks! that feller haint a-botherin me," exclaimed John Wesley. 362 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY " Oh, I hope not/ said Mrs. Pruett; " the Lord knows I do. Fer ef he aint a-bptherin* you, I know mighty well he aint a-botherin* Loorany. E you could a seed em a-swingin* in the bullace vine, as I did yistiddy, you would nt a thought Loorany was bothered much. Well, not muck! " Mrs. Pruett added, sarcastically. "I seed em/ remarked John Wesleyy chuckling. "You did?" cried Mrs. Pruett. She was both surprised and indignant. " Lor, yassum! I thess sot up an laughed, S I: The feller thinks bekaze he s got his arm roun Loorany that shes done hisn 1 I laughed so I was afeared they d hear me." Mrs. Pruett said afterwards that her heart jumped into her throat when she heard John Wesley talking in such a strain, for the idea flashed in her mind that he was distracted and it so impressed her that for one brief moment she was overtaken by fear. " Well," she said, trying to turn the mat ter off lightly, " when you see a feller wir his arm aroun a gal an she not doin any squealin to speak of, you may know it s not so mighty long tell the weddin." THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 36& "Yassum," responded John Wesley, still chuckling, "it may be so wi some folks, but not when the gal is Loorany Parmalee. No, maam ! You thess wait." " Oh, it haint no trouble to me to wait/ said Mrs. Pruett; " but what d I do ef I was a-standin in your shoes ? " " You d make yoursef comfortuble, thess like I m a-doin," remarked John Wesley. Mrs. Pruett was so much disturbed that she told her husband about it, and suggested that he look into the matter to the extent of making such inquiries as a man can make. But Jerd shook his head and snapped his big fingers. " Oh, come now, mother," he said, " its uther too soon er its too late. An that haint all, mother; by the time I git done tendin to my own business an yourn, I feel like drappin off ter sleep." Matters went on in this way until late in 1863, and then there came a time when Hildreth of Hall ceased to visit Hatchs Clearing. Some said he had been " conscripted into the war," as they called it, and some said he had been appointed to another office that took up his time and attention. But, whatever the 364 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY cause of his absence was, Loorany seemed to be satisfied. She went about as gay as a lark and as spry as a ground squirrel. John Wesley, too, continued to take things easy. He made no show of elation over the absence of Hildreth of Hall, and never inquired about it. He had never ceased his visits to the Parmalees, but he went no oftener, now that his rival had disappeared from the field, than he had gone before. As Mrs. Pruett re marked, he was the same old John Wesley in fair weather as he was in foul. Patient and willing, and good-humored, for all his seriousness, he went along attending to his own business and helping everybody else who needed help. Thus, in a way, he was very popular, but somehow those who liked him least had a pity for him that was almost con temptuous. John Wesley paid no attention to such things. He just rocked along, as Mrs. Pruett said. It was the same when, one day in the spring of 1864, Hildreth of Hall came riding up the mountain driving a pair of handsome horses to a top buggy. He wore a gray uniform, and the coat had a long tail to it, a sure sign he was an officer of some kind, THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 365 for Jerd Pruett had seen just such coats worn by the officers in the village below. To he sure, there ought to have been some kind of a mark on the sleeves or shoulders; but no matter about that; nobody but officers could wear long-tailed coats. That point was settled without much argument. And the buggy was new or had been newly varnished, for the spokes shone in the sun, and the sides of the body glistened like glass. What of that ? Well, a good deal, you may be sure; for some people can put two and two together as well as other people, and the folks on the mountain had nt been living for nothing. What of that, indeed! Two fine horses and a shiny top-buggy meant only one thing, and that was a wedding. Everybody was sure of it but John Wesley Millirons. When Mrs. Pruett twitted him with this overwhelming evidence he had the same old answer ready: " You-all thess wait." " Well, we haint got long to wait," said Mrs. Pruett. " You reckon ? " exclaimed John Wesley, with pretended astonishment. Then he chuckled and went on his way, apparently happy and unconcerned. 366 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY Hildreth of Hall remained in the neighbor hood about a week, and was with Loorany Parmalee pretty much all the time, except when he was asleep. They took long buggy rides together, and everything seemed to be getting along swimmingly. But one morn ing early Hildretb. of Hall harnessed up his horses with his own hands and went off down the road leading to Clarksville. It was noticed after that that Loorany was not as gay and as spry as she had been. In fact, the women folks could see that she was not the same girl at all. She used to go and sit in Mrs. Pruetts porch and watch the road, and sometimes her mind would be so far away that she would have to be asked the same question twice before she d make any reply. And she had a way of sighing that Mrs. Pruett did nt like at all. You know how peculiar some people are when they are fond of anybody. Well, that was the way with Mrs. Pruett. Ill Nearly two months after Hildreth of Hall went away with his two fine horses and his shiny top-buggy, Tray Mountain got wind THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 367 of some strange news. The word was that conscript-officers were coming up after some of the men, both old and young, who were of the lawful age. The news was brought by a son of Widow Purvis, Jerd Pruetts sister, who lived within a mile of Clarksville. She had gone to town with butter and eggs to exchange for some factory thread " spun truck " Mrs. Pruett called it and she heard it from old man Hathaway, who was a partic ular friend of Jerd Pruetts. Word reached the mountain just in timey too, for within thirty-six hours four horsemen came riding along the road and stopped at Mrs. Pruetts. And who should be leading them but Hildreth of Hall! Mrs. Pruett saw this much when she peeped through a crack in the door, and she was so taken aback that you might have knocked her down with a feather. But in an instant she was as mad as fire. "Hello, Mrs. Pruett!" says Hildreth of Hall. " Where s Jerd?" " And who may Jerd be ? " inquired Mrs. Pruett placidly. The young mans face fell at this, but he said with a bold voice : 868 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY. " Why, dont you know me, Mrs. Pruett?" " I mought a seed you before, but folks is constant a-comin an a-gwine. They pass up the road an down the road an then they pass outn my mind." "Well, you have nt forgotten me, I know; I m Hildreth of Hall." " Is that so, now ? " remarked Mrs. Pruett, with just the faintest show of interest. "It pears to me we hyearn you was dead. Whats your will and pleasure wi me, Mr. Hall ? " The unconscious air with which Mrs. Pru ett miscalled the young mans name was as effectual as a blow. He lost his composure, and turned almost helplessly to his compan ions. If he expected sympathy he missed it. One of them laughed loudly and cried out to the others: " We 11 have to call him Blowhard. Why, lie declared by everything good and bad that he was just as chummy with these folks as their own kin. And now, right at the beginning, they dont even know his name." " Wheres your husband ? " inquired Hil dreth of Hall. " If he dont know me he will before the day s over." " He may know you better n I do," said THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 36& Mrs. Pruett, " but I hardly reckon he does, bekaze I d mos likely V hyearn on it." " Where is he ? " insisted the young man. " Who ? my ole man ? Oh, him an a whole passel of the boys took their guns an went off toards Hillmans spur bright an early this mornin. They said signs of a bar had been seed thar, but I allowed to mysef that they was thess a-gwine on a frolic." Mrs. Pruett took off her spectacles, wiped them on her apron, and readjusted them to her head, smiling serenely all the while. " We may as well go to the Millions," remarked Hildreth of Hall. " I dont care where you go, so you dont lead us into a trap," remarked one of the men. They turned away from Mrs. Pruetts and rode farther into the settlement. But they soon discovered that Tray Mountain had practically closed its gates against them. The women they saw were as grim and as silent as the mountain. Hildreth of Hall had been telling his companions what a lively place (considering all the circumstances) Hatchs Clearing was, and this added to his embar rassment and increased his irritation. So 370 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY that you may well believe he was neither gay nor good-humored when, after passing several houses, he came to Millirons, where he had been in the habit of making himself free and familiar. Everything was as grim and silent as the grave, and John Wesley sat on the fence as grim and as silent as any of the surroundings. " Theres one man, anyway," remarked one of Hildreths companions. " Be blanked if I dont feel like going up and shaking hands with him that is, if hes alive." For John "Wesley neither turned his head nor stirred. " How are you, Millirons ? " said Hildreth of Hall curtly. " Purty well," replied John Wesley, with out moving. " We are going to put our horses under the shed yonder and give them a handful of fodder," Hildreth of Hall declared. John Wesley made no reply to this. " Did you hear what I said ?" asked the young man. somewhat petulantly. " I hyeam you," answered John Wesley. Whereupon Hildreth of Hall spurred his horse through the open lot gate, followed by THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 371 his companions. They took off saddles and Bridles, made some halters out of plough lines, and gave their horses a heavy feed of fodder. Then they returned to the house, and found John Wesley sitting where they had left him, and in precisely the same posi tion. " Can we get dinner ? " asked Hildreth of Hall. " I reckon not," replied John Wesley. "Why?" " Nobody at home but me an the tomcat, an we re locked out. Maybe you can git dinner at Parmalees when the time comes. They re all at home. But it haint nigh din ner time yit." John Wesley slowly straight ened himself out and came off the fence with an apologetic smile on his face. " Ef these gentermen here dont mind, I d like to have a word wi you, sorter private like." He looked at Hildreth of Hall, still smiling. For answer, Hildreth of Hall walked to a mountain oak a hundred feet away, followed by John Wesley. " What do you want ? " " I spose you ve come up to marry the gal ? " suggested John Wesley. " I have not," replied Hildreth of Hall. 372 HE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY " I mean Loorany Parmalee," said John Wesley, pulling a small piece of bark from the tree. " It matters not to me who you mean," re marked Hildreth. " I just wanted to find out," John Wesley went on, fitting the piece of bark between thumb and forefinger as if it were a marble. " I allers allowed you was a d dog." The bark flew into the face of Hildreth of Hall and left a stinging red mark there, as John Wesley, with a contemptuous gesture, turned away. Hildreths hand flew to his hip pocket. " Watch out there ! " cried one of his com panions in a warning tone. " He 11 shoot! " " I reckon not," said John Wesley, without turning his head. " The fact of the business is, gentermen, they wont narry one on you shoot. A bulldog 11 fight, but you let him foller a sheep-killin houn to the pastur, an a bench-legged fice can run ini. You-all may nt believe it, but its the fact-truth." But John Wesley would have been shot all the same if the thought hadnt flashed on Hildreths mind that the house was full of armed mountaineers. This stayed his THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 373 hand not only stayed his hand, but, appar ently, put him in a good humor. He fol lowed John Wesley and said: " As you are so brash about it, we 11 go and see the young lady. Come on, boys." " What about the horses ? " asked one of the men. " Come on," said Hildreth of Hall in a low voice. " The horses are all right. These chaps dont steal. Come on; that house is full of men." " I told you you were leading us into a trap," growled one of his companions; "and here we are." When they were out of sight, John Wes ley went into the lot and looked at the horses. He was so much interested in their comfort that he loosed their halters. Then he cast a glance upwards and chuckled. A wasps nest as big as a mans hat was hanging be tween two of the rafters, teeming with these irritable insects. John Wesley went outside, climbed up to the top of the shed, counted the clapboards both ways, planted himself above the wasps nest, and with one quick stamp of the foot knocked a hole in the rot ten plank. The noise startled the horses, 374 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY the wasps swarmed down on them, and the next instant they were going down the road the way they had come, squealing, whicker ing, kicking, and running like mad. When they were out of hearing John Wesley went into the house by a back door, got his rifle, and went oS through the woods. Hildreth of Hall and his companions must have had a cool reception at Parmalees, for in about an hour they came back in some haste. If they were alarmed, that feeling was increased tenfold at finding their horses gone. Their saddles and bridles were where they had left them, but the horses were gone. They held a hurried consultation in the lot, climbed the fence instead of coming out near the house, skirted through the woods, and entered the road near Mrs. Pruetts, moving as rapidly as men can who are not running. A half-mile farther down, the road turned to the left and led through a ravine. On one bank, hid by the bushes, John Wesley sat with his rifle across his lap, lost in meditation. Occasionally he plucked a rotten twig and crumbled it in his fingers. After a while he heard voices. He raised himself on his right knee and placed his left THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY 375 foot forward as an additional support. Then he raised his gun, struck the stock lightly with the palm of his hand to shake the powder down, and held himself in readiness. When the men came in sight Hildreth of Hall was slightly in advance of the others. John Wesley slowly raised his rifle and was about to bring the barrel to a level with his eyes when he saw a flash, of fire on the opposite bank, and heard the sharp crack of a rifle. He was so taken by surprise that he raised himself in the bushes and looked about him. Hildreth of Hall had tumbled forward in a heap at the flash, and the other men jumped over his body and ran like rabbits. Before the hatful of smoke had lifted to the level of the tree-tops they were out of hear ing. John Wesley crossed the road and went to the other side. There he saw Loorany Parmalee leaning against a tree, breathing hard. At her feet lay a rifle. " You spiled my game," he remarked. " Is he dead ? " she asked. " Een about," he replied. She threw her head back and breathed hard. John Wesley picked up the rifle and examined it. 376 THE CAUSE OF THE DIFFICULTY "Y7as you gwine to kill him?" Loorany asked. " Well, sorter that away, I reckon." " Did you have the notion that I d marry you atterwards ? " " I want a-gwine to as you," said John Wesley. " Will you take me now, jest as I am ? " " Why, I reckon/ he replied, in a matterof-fact tone. So they went home and left other people to look after Hildreth of Hall. In course of time a boy was born to Loo rany Milhrons, and the event made her hus band a widower, but the child was never known by any other name than that of Toog Parmalee and Toog was the chap that shot his sweetheart. All these things, as Mrs. Pruett said, were the cause of the difficulty you read about in the newspapers the other day. " Thribble the generations," she added, " an sins arm is long enough to retch through em all." THE BABYS CHRISTMAS B.OCKVILLE ought to have been a har monious community if there ever was one. The same families had been living there for generations, and they had intermarried un til everybody was everybody elses cousin. Those who were no kin at all called one an other cousin in public, such is the force of example and habit. Little children play ing with other children would hear them call one another cousin, and so the habit grew until even the few newcomers who took up their abode in Rockville speedily became cousins. There were different degrees of prosperity in the village before and during the war, but everybody was comfortably well off, so that there was no necessity for drawing social dis tinctions. Those who were comparatively poor boasted of good blood, and they made as nice cousins as those who were richer. 878 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS When the editor of the " Vade Mecum" wished to impress on his subscribers the ne cessity of settling their accounts, he prefaced his remarks with this statement: " We are a homogeneous people. We are united. What is the interest of one is the interest of all. We must continue to preserve our harmony." But envy knows no race or clime, and it had taken up its abode among the cousins of Rockville. It was not even rooted out by the disastrous results of the war, which tended to bring each and every cousin down to the same level of hopeless poverty. When, there fore, Colonel Asbury announced in the streets that his wife had concluded to take boarders, and caused to be inserted in the " Vade Meeum " a notice to the effect that " a few select parties" could find accommodations at The Cedars, there were a good many smothered exclamations of affected surprise among the cousins, with no little secret satisfaction that " Cousin Becky T." had at last been com pelled to " get off her high horse," to employ the vernacular of Rockville. Such an announcement was certainly the next thing to a crash in the social fabric, and while some of the cousins were secretly THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 379 pleased, there were others who shook their heads in sorrow, feeling that a deep and last ing humiliation had been visited on the com munity. For if ever a human being was seized and possessed by pride of family and position, that person was Cousin Becky T. Her pride was reenforced by a will as firm, and. an individuality as strong, as ever wo man had; and these characteristics were so marked that she was never known among her acquaintances as Mrs. Asbury, but always as Rebecca Tumlin or " Cousin Rebecca T." The colonel himself invariably referred to her, even in his most hilarious moments, as Rebecca Tumlin. Times were hard indeed when this gentlewoman could be induced to throw open to boarders the fine old mansion, with its massive white pillars standing out against a background of red brick. The colonel had three plantations, one near Rockville, one in the low country, and one in the Cherokee region; but in 1868 these possessions were a burden to him to the extent of the taxes he was compelled to pay. There was no market for agricultural lands. The value they might have had was swallowed up in the poverty and depression 380 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS that enveloped everything in the region -where war had dropped its litter of furies. Colonel Asbury might have practiced law: he did practice it, in fact; but it was like building a windmill over a dry well. Cousin Rebecca Tumlin finally solved the problem by announcing that she purposed to lake boarders. No one ever knew what it cost her to make that announcement. Envi ous people suspected the nature of the strug gle through which she passed, the hard and bitter struggle between pride and neces sity, and some of them predicted it would do her good. The colonel, who was proud after his own fashion, and also sympathetic, -was shocked at first and then grieved. But he made no remark. Comment was unneces sary. He walked back and forth on the colonnade, and measured many a mile before liis agitation was allayed. More than once he went down the long graveled avenue, and turned and gazed fondly at the perspective that carried the eye to the fine old house. It seemed as if he were bidding farewell to the beauty and glory of it all. But he made no complaint. When he grew tired of walk ing, he went in with the intention of taking THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 381 down some family pictures that adorned the walls of the wide hall. But his wife had forestalled him. The house, by a few deft changes, had been made as cheerless as the most fastidious boarder could wish. And so the word went round that Cousin Rebecca Tumlin would be pleased to take boarders. The response was all that she could have desired. The young men the bachelor storekeepers and their clerks de serted the rickety old tavern and the smaller boarding-houses, and took up their abode at The Cedars, and soon the house was gay with a company that was profitable if not pleasant. The advent of boarders some of them transient traveling - men opened a new world for Mary Asbury, Cousin Rebecca Tumlins daughter, and she made the most of it. She followed the example of her fa ther, the colonel, and made herself agreeable to the young men. She made herself espe cially agreeable to Laban Pierson, the young conductor of the daily train on the little branch railroad that connected Rockville with the outside world. Cousin Rebecca T. held herself severely aloof from her boarders, but her attitude was so serene and graceful, 382 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS so evidently the natural and correct thing, that it caused no ill-natured comment. Mary was sixteen, and when she sat at the head of the table, her mother was not missed. The young girls manners were a rare combina tion of sweetness, grace, and dignity. She was affable, she was thoughtful, and she had a fair share of her fathers humor. Above all, she was beautiful. Naturally, therefore, while her mother nursed her pride, and counted the money, Mary beamed on the boarders, and her father drew upon his vast fund of anecdote for their instruction and amusement. Laban Pierson was not a very brilliant young man, but he was fairly good-looking, and he knew how to make himself agreeable. His train arrived at Kockville at half-past two in the afternoon, and left at five oclock in the morning, so that he had plenty of time to make himself agreeable to Miss Mary Asbury, and he did so with only a vague notion of what the end would be. Mary made herself agreeable to Laban simply because it was her nature to be pleasant to everybody. As for any other reason, why, the idea of such a thing! If young Pierson had told himself THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 383 that he was courting Mary Asbury, he would have blushed with alarm. Perhaps he would have left The Cedars and gone to the old tavern again. Who knows? Young men will do very desperate things at certain stages of their checkered careers. It was the old story with its own particular variations. Mary loved Laban, and was too shy to know what she was about. Laban loved Mary, and never discovered it until the disease had become epidemic in his system, and spread over his heart and mind in every direction. Neither one of them discovered it. It was a beautiful dream, too good to be true, too sweet to last. Finally the discovery was made by old Aunt Mirny, the cook, who had never seen Mary and Laban together. The affair, if it can be called by so imposing a name, had been going on a year or more, and Mary was past seventeen, when one after noon the train failed to arrive on time. The afternoon wore into evening, and still the train did not come. Mary had the habit of sitting in the kitchen with Aunt Mirny when anything troubled her, and on this particular afternoon, after waiting an hour for the train, she went to her old seat near the window. 384 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS Aunt Mirny was beating biscuit. Mary looked out of the -window toward the depot. " Train aint come yit, is she, honey ? " asked Aunt Mirny. " No, not yet," replied Mary. "What can be the matter ? " " Bun off de trussle, I speck," said Aunt Mirny. " 0 mammy ! " cried Mary, starting to her feet ; " do you really think so ? What have you heard ? " The girl stood with one hand against her bosom, her face pale, and her nether lip trem bling. Aunt Mirny regarded her with aston ishment for a moment, and then the shrewd old negro jumped to a conclusion. She paused with her arm uplifted. " Is yo ma on dat train ? Is yo pa on dat train ? What de name er de Lord you got ter do wid dat train ? " She brought the beater down on the pliant dough with a resounding thwack. Mary hid her face in her hands. After a little she went out, leaving Aunt Mirny mumbling and talking to herself. The cook lost no time in relating this inci dent to Cousin Eebecca T., and that lady lost THE BAST'S CHRISTMAS 385 just as little in making plain to her daughter the folly and futility of interesting herself in such a person as the young conductor. Cousin Eebecca T. gave Mary a brief but picturesque biography of Laban Pierson. His family belonged to the poor white trash before the war, and he was no better. Muddy well, muddy water. He had been a train-hand,, a brakeman, baggage-master, and what not. The colonel was called in to ver ify these biographical details. Marys reply to it all was characteristic* She listened and smiled, and tossed her head. " What do / care about Laban Pierson ? What have I to do with his affairs ? Ought I to have jumped for joy when mammy told me the train had dropped through the tres tle ? " The colonel accepted this logic without question, but Cousin Eebecca T. saw through it. She was a woman, and had a natural contempt for logic, especially a womans logic. She simply realized that she had made a mistake. She had gone about the matter in the wrong way. As for Mary, she had found out her own secret. She hard ened her heart against Aunt Mirny, and wheu 386 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS the old woman sought an explanation, it was readily forthcoming. " You got me into trouble/ said Mary; " you wont get me into any more if I can help it." Aunt Mirny grieved over the situ ation to such an extent that she made her self disagreeable to everybody, especially to Cousin Eebecca T. She broke dishes, she burned the waffles, she flung the dish-water into the yard, and for a day or two she whipped the little negroes every time she got her hands on them. Cousin Eebecca T. did not let the matter drop, as she might have done. The colonel used to tell his intimate friends that his wife had a fearful amount of misdirected energy, and the results that it wrought in this par ticular instance justified the colonels descrip tion. Cousin Eebecca T. went straight to young Laban Pierson, and gave him to under stand, without circumlocution or mincing of words, what she thought of any possible no tion he had or might have of uniting his for tunes with those of her daughter. As might have been expected, Laban was thunder struck. He blushed violently, turned pale, stammered, and, in short, acted just as any THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 387 other young fellow would act when con fronted with his own secret thoughts and de sires, hardly acknowledged even to himself. To Cousin Rebecca T. all this was in the nature of a confession of guilt, and she con gratulated herself on the promptness with which she had put an end to the whole mis erable business. As a matter of fact, she did what many another hasty-tempered woman has done before her ; she kindled into flame a spark that might have expired if let alone. Young Mr. Pierson promptly took himself away from The Cedars, and it was not until after he was gone that the other guests dis covered what an interesting companion he was at table and on the wide veranda. They began to talk about him. and to discuss his good qualities. He was a clean, manly, bright, industrious, genial, generous young fellow. This was the verdict. The colonel, missing the cigars that Laban was in the habit of bringing him, and resenting the sit uation (inflamed, perhaps, by a little too much toddy), went further, and said that in the whole course of his career, sir, he had never seen a finer young man, sir. So that in spite of the fact that Laban sat at the table no longer, he was more in evidence than ever. 388 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS Affairs went on without a break or a ripple. Occasionally Mary would walk in the direction of the depot in the afternoon, and whenever she saw Laban she made it a point to bow to him, and this salutation he always returned with marked emphasis. But Mary was not happy. She no longer went singing through the house. She was cheer ful, but not in the old fashion. No one no ticed the change but old Aunt Mirny, and perhaps she would have been blind to it if her conscience had not hurt her. The old womans conscience was not specially active or sensitive, but her affections were, set on Mary, and for many long weeks the girl had hardly deigned to speak to her. Conscience lives next door to the affections. Aunt Mirny rebelled against hers for a long time, but at last it roused her to action. One afternoon, when dinner had been cleared away, she filled her pipe, adjusted her head-kerchief, and sallied out in the di rection of the depot. The wheezy old loco motive was engaged in shifting the cars about, and Conductor Pierson was assisting the brakeman. Aunt Mirny seated herself on the depot platform, smoked her pipe, and THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 389 patiently waited till the shunting was over. Then she placed herself in Piersons way. He seemed to be preoccupied, but the old woman did not stand on ceremony. " Look like our victuals want good nough fer you," she said bluntly. " Why, this is Aunt Mirny ! " He shook hands with her, and asked about her health, and this pleased her very much. He asked about the family, and especially about Miss Mary. When it came to this, Aunt Mirny took her pipe out of her mouth, drew a long breath, and shook her head. She could have given points on the art of pantomime to any strolling company of players. The whole his tory of the sad case of Mary Asbury was in the lift of her eyebrows, the motions of her head, and in her sorrowful sigh; and Con ductor Pierson seemed to be able to read a part of it, for he asked Aunt Mirny into the passenger-coach, and there the two sat and talked until it was time for Aunt Mirny to go home and see about supper. That night, as Aunt Mimy sat on the kitchen steps smoking her pipe and resting herself, preparatory to going to bed, she saw Mary sitting at her room window looking out 390 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS iato the moonlight. It was not a very beau tiful scene that fell under the young girls eye. There was nothing romantic or pictur esque in the view of the back yard, with the kitchen and the comical figure of the fat old cook in the foreground : but when a young girl is in love, it is wonderful what a mellow ing influence the moonlight has on the most forbidding scene. It pushes the shadows into strange places, and softens and subdues all that is angular and ugly. Take the moon out of our scheme, and a good deal of our poetry and romance would vanish with it, and even true love would take on a prosiness that it does not now possess. Aunt Mirny looked at Mary, and felt sorry for her. Mary looked at Aunt Mirny, and felt that she would be glad to be able to despise the old negro if she could. Aunt Mirny spoke to her presently in a subdued, insinuating tone. " Is dat you, honey ? " "Yes." "Better fling on yo cape" " I m not cold." " An come down here an talk wid me." I dont feel like talking." THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 391 " Been long time sence you felt like talkin wid me. Well, dem dat dont talk dont never hear tell." She pulled from somewhere under her apron something white and oblong, dropped it on the ground purposely, picked it up, and put it back under her apron. Then she said : " Good-night, honey! I aint tellin you good-night des fer mysef." Aunt Mirnys tone was charged with infor mation. Mary vanished from the window, and came tripping out to the kitchen. Then followed a whispered conversation between the cook and the young lady. At something or other that Aunt Mirny said to her some quaint comment, or maybe a happy piece of intelligence Mary laughed loudly. The sound of it reached the ears of Cousin Rebecca T., who was playing whist. The colonel was dealing. She slipped away from the table, peeped through the blinds of the dining-room, and was just in time to see Aunt Mirny hand Mary something, that had the appearance of a letter. She returned to the whist-table, revoked on the first round, and trumped her partners trick on the second. 392 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS Such a thing had never been heard of before. Her partner shook his head, and buried his face in his cards. Her husband regarded her with amazement. She made no excuse or explanation, but in the next two hands more than made up in brilliant play for the advantage she had lost. Meanwhile Mary was reading the letter that Laban Pierson had sent her. It was a frank, manly declaration of his love expressed in plain and simple language. He had writ ten, he said, on the impulse of the moment, but he did not propose to engage in a clan destine correspondence. He did not invite or expect a reply, but would always ah, well, the formula was the same old one that we are all familiar with. Mary placed the letter where she could feel her heart beat against it, and went to bed happy, and was soon dreaming about Laban Pierson. Cousin Eebecca T. played whist fiercely and won continuously. After the game was over, she went upstairs, stirred a stiff toddy for the colonel, and put him to bed. Then she went into her daughters room, shading the lamp with her hand so that the light would not arouse Innocence THE BASTS CHRISTMAS 393 from its happy dreams. She moved as noise lessly as Lady Macbeth moves in the play5 though not with the same intent. She searched everywhere for the letter, and at last found it where a more feminine woman would have hunted for it at first. One cor ner of this human document was peeping modestly forth from the virgin bosom of In nocence. Deftly, gently, even lovingly, Cousin Rebecca T. lifted the letter from its warm and shy covert. It was a very simple thing to do, but there were hours and days and years when Cousin Rebecca T. would have given all her posses sions to have left the letter nestling in her daughters bosom ; for, in lifting it out, Inno cence was aroused from its sleep and caught Experience in the very act of making a fool of itself. Mary opened her wondering eyes, and found her mother with Labans letter in her hand. The young lady sat bolt upright in bed. Cousin Rebecca T. was inwardly startled, but outwardly she was as calm as the moonlight that threw its slanting shadows eastward. " I dont wonder that you blush," she cried, holding up the letter. 394 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS " Do you think I am blushing for my self ? " asked Mary. " If you know what shame is, you ought to feel it now," exclaimed her mother. "I do -I do," said Mary, with rising indignation. " After to-night I shall always be ashamed of myself and of my family." Cousin Eebecca T,, stung by the tone and by this first sign of rebellion, turned upon her daughter; but her anger quickly died away, for she saw in her daughters eyes her own courage and her own unconquerable will. The scene did not end there, but the rest of it need not be described here. Innocence has as long a tongue as Experience when it feels itself wronged, and the result of this family quarrel was that Innocence went far ther than JExperience would have dared to go. When Laban Piersons train went puff ing out of Rockville at five oclock the next morning, it carried among its few passengers Miss Mary Asbury and old Aunt Mirny. The colonel and Cousin Rebecca T. lost a daugh ter, and their boarders had to wait a long time for their breakfast or go without. The next number of the " Vade Mecum " THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 395 had a beautifully written account of the mar riage of Mary Asbury to Laban Pierson, un der the double heading LOVE LAUGHS AT LOCKSMITHS A LOCAL KOMANCE WITH A HAPPY ENDING Cousin Rebecca T. turned up her nose at the newspaper account, but the colonel cut it out and hid it away in his large morocco pocket-book. That night, after he had taken his toddy and was sound asleep, Cousin Bebecca T. took the clipping from its hidingplace, and read it over carefully. Then she put out the light, and sat by the window and cried until far into the night. But she cried so softly that a little bird, sitting on its nest in the honeysuckle vine not two feet away from the ladys grief, did not take its head from under its wing. II This was at the beginning of 1870, and about this time Colonel Asburys fortunes took a decided turn for the better. During the war, in a spirit of speculative reckless ness, he had invested thirty thousand dollars in Confederate money in ten thousand acres 396 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS of land in Texas. He thought so little of the investment then, and afterwards, that he did not take the trouble to pay the taxes. But the purchase of the land was a fortunate stroke for the colonel. In 1870 land-values in Texas were not what they were in Georgia. That vast southwestern empire (as the phrase goes) was just beginning to attract the atten tion of Northern and foreign capital. Rail way promoters, British land syndicates, and native boomers, were combining to develop the material resources of the wonderful State. In the early part of 1870, a powerful com bination of railway promoters determined to build a line straight through the colonels Texan possessions. His land there increased in value to thirty dollars, and then to forty dollars, an acre, at which figure the colonel was induced to part with his titles. Cousin Rebecca Tumlin thus found herself to be the wife of a very rich man, and her pride at last found something substantial to cling to. The Cedars ceased to be a boarding-house. The old family pictures were brought down from the garret, dusted, and hung in their ac customed places. Great improvements were made in the place, and Cousin Rebecca and THE BAST'S CHRISTMAS 397 the colonel sat down to enjoy life as they thought it ought to be enjoyed. But something was lacking. Life did not run as pleasantly as before. The dollar that brings content is at such a high premium among the nations of the earth that it can never be made the standard of value. That dollar was not among the four hundred thou sand dollars the colonel received for his Texan lands. The old style did not fit the new times. The colonels old friends did not fall away from him, but they were less friendly and more obsequious. His daughter did not come forward to ask his forgiveness and his blessing. Something was wrong somewhere. The colo nel and Cousin Rebecca Tumlin fretted a good deal, and finally concluded to move to Atlanta. So they closed their house in Kockville, and built a mansion in Peachtree Street in the city whose name has come to be iden tified with all that is progressive in the South. The building is on the left as you go out Peachtree. You cant mistake it. It is a queer mixture of summer cottage and feudal castle, with a great deal of fussy detail that bewilders the eye, and a serene stretch of 398 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS roof broken by a delirious display of scroll work. It is Rebecca Tumlin all over ; pride pride nailed to the grim walls, and vexa tion of spirit worked into the ornamentation. Yet it is a house that easily catches the eye. It is on a little elevation, and it has about it a certain suggestion of individuality. On the dome of the middle gable a smart and business-like dragon upholds the weather-vane with his curled and gilded tail. The colonel prospered steadily. He was regarded as one of the most successful busi ness men and financiers the South has ever produced. It is no wonder the Bible parable gives money the name of " talent." It is a talent. Give it half a chance, and it is the most active talent that man possesses. It is always in a state of fermentation ; it grows ; it accumulates. At any rate, the colonel thought so. His capital carried him into the inner circles of investment and speculation, and he found himself growing richer and richer, only vaguely realizing how the result was brought about. The receptions at the Asbury mansion were conceded to be the most fashionable that At lanta had ever seen ; for along in the seventies THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 399 Atlanta was merely experimenting with the social instinct. The " smart set " had no kind of organization. Society was engaged in disentangling itself from the furious busi ness energy that has made Atlanta the bestknown city in the South. It was at this juncture that Cousin Rebecca T., with her money, her taste, and her ambition to lead, appeared on the scene. She had all the re quisites of a leader. Pride is a quickening quality, and it had made of Cousin Rebecca T. a most accomplished woman. There was something attractive and refreshing about her strong individuality. There was a simplicity about her methods that commended her to the social experimenters, who stood in great awe of forms and conventions. Naturally, therefore, the Asbury mansion was the social centre. The younger set gath ered there to be gay, and the married peo ple went there to meet their friends. But many and many a night after the lights were out in the parlors, and the gas was turned low in the hall, Cousin Rebecca T. and the colonel sat and thought about their daughter Mary, each refraining from men tioning her name to the other, the colonel 400 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS because he was afraid of irritating his wife, and Cousin Rebecca T. because she was afraid of exhibiting any weakness before her husband. Each, unknown to the other, had set on foot inquiries in regard to the where abouts of Mary, and the fact that the in quiries elicited no response and no informa tion gave the two old people a more valid excuse for misery than they had ever known. The trouble was that their inquiries had begun too late. For a few months after her marriage the colonel had kept himself in formed about his daughter. He expected her to write to him. He had a vague and unformed notion that in due season Mary would return and ask her mothers forgive ness, and then, if Cousin Rebecca T. showed any hardness of heart, he proposed to put his foot down, and show her that he was not a cipher in the family. The mother, for her part, fully expected that some day when she was going about the house, neither doing nor thinking of anything in particular, her daughter would rush suddenly in upon her and tell her between laughter and tears that there was no happiness away from home. Cousin Rebecca T. had her part all pre- THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 401 pared. She would frown at first, and then throw her arms around Mary, and tell her what a naughty girl sne had been. But all this mental preparation was in vain. Weeks, months, and years passed by, but Mary never came. When the colonel and Cousin Rebecca T. woke up to their new prosperity, they were very busily engaged for some time in fitting themselves to it. It was during this period that Mary and her hus band disappeared. The colonel heard in a vague way that Laban Pierson had moved to Atlanta, and that from Atlanta he had gone out West. All the rest was mystery. But it was no mystery to Laban and Mary. For a little while their affairs went along comfortably. Laban became the conductor of a passenger-train on the main line of the Central of Georgia. Then he moved to At lanta. Afterward he accepted a position on the Louisville and Nashville Railway, and there had the misfortune to lose a leg in a collision. This was the beginning of troubles that seemed to pursue Laban and Mary. Pov erty laid its grim hand upon them at every turn. Mary did the best she could. She was indeed a helpmate and a comforter j she 402 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS was brave and hopeful; yet she would have given up in despair but for old Aunt Mirny, who worked and slaved that her young mis tress might be spared the bitterest pangs of poverty. Her faithfulness was without bound ary or limit. Day and night she toiled, cook ing, washing, and taking care of the toddling baby that had come to share the troubles of Laban and Mary. As soon as Laban could get about on his crutches, he tried to find work; but his efforts were fruitless. The time came when he was ready to say to his wife that he could do no more. Finally the little family drifted back to Atlanta. Here Laban found employment in a small way as a solicitor of life insurance. He was doing so well in this business that a rival company sought his services, offering to pay a fixed salary instead of commissions. But no sooner had lie given notice to his employers that he intended to accept the new position than a complication arose in his ac counts. How it happened Laban never knew; he was as innocent as a lamb. The company was a new one, trying to establish a busi ness in the Atlanta territory, and out of the funds he collected he used money to pay THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 403 expenses incurred in the companys behalf. His vouchers showed it all; he had been careful to put down everything, even to the cost of a postal card. He turned over these vouchers and accounts to his employers. But when it was found that he had entered the service of a rival company, the charge of embezzlement was made against him. He found it impossible to give bonds, and was compelled to go to jail. A young lawyer took his case, and was sure he could clear him when the case came to trial. But mean while Laban was in jail, and to Mary this was the end of all things; for a time she was utterly prostrated. She refused to eat or sleep, but sat holding her child to her bosom, and crying over it. This went on for so long a time that Aunt Mirny thought it best to interfere. So she took the twoyear-old child from its mother, and made some characteristic observations. "You aint gwine ter git Marse Laban outn jail by settin dar cryin/ honey. Bet ter git mad an stir roun, an hurt some bodys feelins. Make you feel lots better, kaze I done tried it." " 0 mammy ! mammy ! " moaned Mary. 404 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS "Day atter ter-morrer 11 be Chrismus," Aunt Mirny continued, " an Marse Laban got ter be here ter dinner. Dey aint no two ways bout dat." " Oh, what a Christmas ! " cried Mary. " Yes m ; an de cake done baked. Dont you fret, honey! De Lord aint fur fom whar folks is in trouble. I done notice dat. He may nt be right dar in de nex room, an maybe he aint right roun de cornder, but he aint so mighty fur off. Now, I tell you dat." Whereupon Aunt Mirny, carrying the child, went out of the house into the street, and was so disturbed in mind that she walked on and on with no thought of the distance. After a while she found herself on Peachtree Street, where the babys attention was at tracted by the jingling bells of the street-car horses. In front of one of the large man sions a fine carriage was standing. On the veranda a lady stood drawing on her gloves and giving some parting orders to a servant in the hall. Aunt Mirny knew at once that the lady was her old mistress. But she turned to the negro coachman, who sat on the box stiff and stolid in all the grandeur of a long coat and brass buttons. THE BABY'S CHEISTMAS 405 ** Who live here? " she asked. " Cun-nol Asbey," the coachman replied. " Aint dat Becky Tumlin yonder ?" in quired Aunt Mirny, with some asperity. " No, maam; dat is Missus Cun-nol Asbey." " Well, de Lord hep my soul! " exclaimed Aunt Mirny. Then she turned and went back home as fast as she could, talking to herself and the child. Once she looked back, but Cousin Rebecca T. was sitting grandly in the car riage, and the carriage was going rapidly to ward the business portion of the city. Cousin Rebecca T. bowed right and left to her ac quaintances and smiled pleasantly as the car riage rolled along. She bowed and smiled, but she was thinking about her daughter. Aunt Mirny hurried home as fast as she could go. She had intended at first to tell Mary of her discovery, but she thought bet ter of it. She had another plan. " You see me gwine long here?" she said, as much to herself as to the baby. " Well, ef I dont fix dat ar white oman you kin put me in de calaboose." She stood at the gate of the house Laban had rented, and com- 406 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS pared its appearance with the magnificence of the mansion she had just left. The con trast was so startling that all the comment she could make was, " De Lord hep my soul!" She took the child in, got its play things, and then went about her business more briskly than she had gone in many a day. If Mary had not been so deeply en gaged in contemplating her troubles, she would have discovered at once that some thing unusual had occurred. Aunt Mirny was agitated. Her mind was not in her work. She drew a bucket of water from the well when she intended to get wood for the little stove. Occasionally she would pause in her work and stand lost in thought. At last Mary remarked her agitation. " What is the matter, mammy ? " she asked. " Something has happened." "Ah, Lord, honey! T aint happenyit, but its gwine ter happen." " Well," said Mary, shaking her head, " let it happen. Nothing can hurt me. The worst has already happened." Aunt Mirny made no audible comment, but went about mumbling and talking to herself. Mary sat rocking and moaning, and the little THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 407 child made the most of the situation by tod dling from room to room, getting into all sorts of mischief without let or hindrance. After a while Aunt Mirny asked : " Honey, dont you know whar yo pa an ma is?" " Yes/ said Mary languidly ; " they live in Atlanta." " Right here in dis town ? " Yes." "Wharbouts?" " Oh, dont worry me, mammy ! I dont know. They care nothing for me. See how they have treated Laban ! " " Why nt you hunt em up, an tell em what kinder fix you in ? I boun dey d hep you out." Mary gazed at Aunt Mirny with open-eyed wonder. " Write a letter ter yo ma. Heres what11 take it. Jll fin out whar she live at." Mary rose from her chair and took a step toward Aunt Mirny, not in anger, but by way of emphasis. " Mammy," she cried, " dont speak of such a thing !" " Humph ! " Aunt Mirny grunted; " ef you aint de vey spit an image er Becky 408 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS Tumlin, I m a saddle-boss. Proud! consated ! Dat aint no name fer it. De nigger man what I got now aint much, but ef he wuz in jail I d be trottin roun right now tryin ter git im out." The next morning Aunt Mirny was up be times- She cooked breakfast, and after that meal was over (it need not have been pre pared so far as Mary was concerned), she dressed the baby in some of its commonest clothes, and put on its feet a pair of shoes that were worn at the toes. This done, she took the lively youngster in her arms and started out. " Where are you going? " Mary asked. " Baby gwine ter walk," Aunt Mirny an swered. " Not in those clothes ! " Mary protested. " Now, honey," exclaimed Aunt Mimy, " does you speck I aint got no better sense dan ter rig dis baby out, an his pa down yonder in de dungeons ? " " Oh, what shall I do ? " cried Mary, for getting everything else but her own misery and her husbands disgrace. " Stay right here, honey, tell I come back. I wont be gone so mighty long. Den THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 409 kin take dis precious baby down ter see his pa." The day was clear and bright, and although it was Christmas, the soft breezes and the in vigorating sunshine had the flavor and quality of spring. Aunt Mirny paid no attention to the auspicious weather, but made her way straight to the Asbury mansion on Peachtree Street. On her face there was a frown, and her " head-hankcher," which usually sat straight back from her forehead, had an upward tilt that gave her a warlike appear ance. She went up the tiled walk and rang the door-bell. A quadroon girl came to the door; the girls voice was soft, and her manners gentle, but Aunt Mirny had a strong prejudice against mulattoes, and it came to the surface now. " Is yo mistess in ? " she asked harshly. " Mis Asbury is in," said the girl softly. " Ax her kin I see her." The girl slipped away from the door, leav ing it ajar. The glimpse of the magnificence within angered Aunt Mirny. Presently the girl returned. " Has you got any message?" she asked. 410 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS " No, I aint. Tell her dat a ole nigger oman fum de country want ter see her." Cousin Rebecca T. was listening at the farther end of the hall, and thought she recognized the voice. The girl turned away with a smile to deliver the message, but her mistress was standing near. With a wave of her hand, Cousin Rebecca T. dismissed the servant, saw her safely out of hearing, and then opened wide the door. " Come in, Mirny," she said in a voice as serene as a summer morning; " come into my room. I have nt seen you in a coons age." She dropped easily into the vernacular of Rockville and the region round about. She took Aunt Mirny somewhat off her guard, but this only served to increase the agitation of the old negro. Cousin Rebecca T. led the way to her back parlor. " Come in," she said kindly. " How have you been since I saw you last ? " She shut the door and caught the thumb-bolt. " Sit in that chair. Now, what have you to tell me?" Aunt Mirny saw that the thin white hand of her old mistress trembled as she raised it to her hair. THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 411 "Wellum," Aunt Mirny replied, "I des tuck er notion I d drap by an say Chrismus GifV You know how we use ter do down dar at home. I aint seed you so long, its des de same ez sayin howdy ? " Cousin Rebecca T. looked hard at the old darky, and drew a long breath. " Do you mean to say you have nothing to tell me nothing ? What do you want ? " She would have laid her hand on Aunt Mirnys shoulder, but the old woman shrunk away, exclaiming: "God knows dey aint nothin here J want! No, ma'am ! " Cousin Rebecca T. took a step toward her old servant. " Where is Mary ? " she asked, almost in a whisper. " She down yander down dar at de house." Aunt Mirny put the child down, faced Cousin Rebecca T., whose agitation was now extreme, and raised her strong right arm in the air. " I thank my God, I aint got no chillun ! I thank im day an night. E I d a had em, maybe I d a done em like you done yone." " You are impudent," said Cousin Rebecca 412 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS T. The little child had gone to her, and her hand rested on its curly head. " Wellum," Aunt Mirny rejoined, " ef you want ter call de trufe by some yuther name, let it go at dat." "Whose child is this?" "Heh!" the old negro grunted. "He look like he know who he kin ter." Cousin Kebecca T. took the child in her arms and carried it into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Aunt Mirny went to the door on tiptoe, and listened silently for a moment. Then she nodded her head vigor ously, ejaculating at intervals " Aha-a-a!" What I tell you ? " " Ah-yi! " Cousin Rebecca T. placed the child on the floor and knelt beside it. " Darling, what is your name ? " "Azzerbewy Tummerlin Pierson," replied the child solemnly. " Oh, will the Lord ever forgive me ?" cried Cousin Rebecca T., falling prone on the floor in her grief and humiliation. " Yonner mudder ! " said the child. " Where ? " exclaimed Cousin Rebecca T., starting up. "Yonner." The youngster pointed to a THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 413 picture of his mother hanging on the wall, an enlarged copy of a photograph taken before she was married. Seeing that the lady was crying, the child went to her, laid its soft face against hers, and gently patted her with one of its pretty hands. "Mudder cy all, all e time," said the child, by way of consolation. " Oh, precious baby ! " exclaimed Cousin Rebecca T., " she shall never cry any more if I can help it." " Ah-yi! " responded Aunt Mirny on the other side. At this juncture the colonel walked into the back parlor. " Well, my dear," he said, " what is the programme to-day ? In my opinion why, this is Mirny! Mirny," his voice sank to a whisper, " where is your young mistress ? " " Ah, Lord! you been waitin a mighty long time fo you ax anybody dat queshton! " "Mirny, is she dead?" The ruddy color had fled from his face. " Go in dar, suh." Aunt Mirny pointed to the door leading into the bedroom. The colonel found his wife weeping over 414 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS the little child, and, being a tender-hearted man, he joined her. As Aunt Mirny said afterward, " Dey went on in dar mo samer dan ef dey d a done got erligion sho nough, an de Lord knows dey needed it mighty bad." The colonel went on at a great rate over the baby. "Look at the little shoes with holes in them! " he cried. " Look at the torn frock ! " Then he fairly blubbered. In the midst of it all, Aunt Mirny opened the door and walked into the room, calm, cool, and indifferent. Ah, how wonderfully she could play the hypocrite ! "Come on, honey," she said. "Mudder waitin fer you. I tole er we wuz comin right back. Come ter mammy." The baby ran away from its old nurse, and hid its face in its grandmothers bosom, then sought refuge between its grandfathers knees, and was oth erwise as cute and as cunning as babies know so well how to be. But Aunt Mirny was persistent. " Come on, honey; time ter go. Spile you ter stay here. Too much finery fer po folks." " Randall," said Cousin Kebecca T., call- THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 415 ing her husband by his first name (something she had not done for years), " order the car riage." "No, maam; no, ma'am!" Aunt Mirny cried. " You shant be a-sailin roun my chile in a fine carriage wid a big nigger man settin up dar grinnin no, ma'am ! I wont go wid you. I wont show you de way. I in free, an I 11 die fust. I aint gwine ter have no fine carriage sailin roun dar, and Marse Laban lyin down town dar in jail." " In jail! " cried the colonel. " What has he done?" " Nothin t all," said Aunt Mirny. " De folks des put im in dar case he wuz po." " Randall, go and get him out, and bring him here. Take the carriage." In this way Cousin Eebecca settled the trouble about the carriage. Then she went with Aunt Mirny to find her daughter, and the old woman had to walk rapidly to keep up with her. When they came to the door, Aunt Mirny paused and looked at her old mistress, and for the first time felt a little sympathy for hero Cousin Rebeccas hands were trembling, and her lips quivering. 416 THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS " Des go an knock at de door," said Aunt Mirny kindly. " De po cliile s in dar somers. I m gwine roun." She went round the corner of the house, and there paused to listen. Cousin Rebecca T. knocked, a little timidly at first, and then a little louder. Mary opened the door, and saw standing there a richly dressed lady cry ing as if her heart would break. For a mo ment she was appalled by this appearance of grief incarnate on her threshold, and stood with surprise and pity shining from her eyes. " My precious child ! " cried Cousin Re becca T., " have you forgotten me ? " " Mother !" exclaimed Mary. Then Aunt Mirny heard the door close. {t Come on, honey," she said to the baby; "Ill turn you loose in dar wid em." Cousin Rebecca T. took her daughter home, and not long afterward the colonel appeared with Laban, and the babys Christ mas was celebrated in grand style. Aunt Mirny was particularly conspicuous, taking charge of affairs in a high-handed way, and laughing and crying whenever she found her self alone. " Nummine !" she said to herself, seeing THE BABY'S CHRISTMAS 417 Mary and Laban and the old folks laughing and carrying on like little children " Nummine ! You re all here now, an dat s doin mighty well atter so long a time. I blieve dat ar aig-nog done flewd ter der heads. I know mighty well its done flewd ter mine, kaze how come I wanter cry one minute an laugh de nex ? "