The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1898-03-02
,oopYRGHL 1893. BY The AUTnoRA

bread and fried chicken with the avidity
of a starved animal when the court
house ball began to clang excitedly.
Miss Melanie looked at her captive i'm
ploringly.
CHOW, my good boy, do please hurry
up. We are all dying to hear what you
have to tell US about Colonel Bascom's
men.
Moses gulped the remainder of his
food with bullying eyes and got up to
follow Miss Melanie, who was speeding
down the street on flying feet.
By the time they reached it the old
courthouse was full of anxious faced
women, who had already caught the ex-
citing rumor that somebody had arrived
who knew something about their loved
ones.
Nanny Jane and Uncle Toby were
among those who stood nearest to the
door. They had been fetched in haste
for purposes of Identification. The old
woman scanned her returned offspring
in scornful silence before laying any
maternal claim to him.
eyes, that's Moses, my boy Moses,
which sent away from me God fear
in, self respectin boy in clean shirt
an breeohes. Now he surely do look
like runaway niger, fresh from the
canebrake.
With the air of one preordained to de-
fend an entire corps Moses turned re-
buking eyes on her.
NANNY, that's the way the army
does all us soldiers. You all ought to
JUS see Mr.. Reggie
Uncle Toby was no less scathing in
his final acceptance.
"Yes, sir; there's no denyin that that
is Moses But''-here he turned severe
ly on the returned native-"boy, you
sho'ly does look like the buzzards' been
peckin at you. l wouldn't use you for
skeercrow in green pea time. No,
sir, wouldn't
eff it is Moses, the right Moses, let
us hear from him. We don't care fig
for his clothes.
And Moses was hustled forward un.
til he stood crouching like frightened
hare in the middle of the platform, with
the Rev. Brownell and Miss Melanie
acting as custodians.
plantations to the steamboat landing,
no drays rafting through its bustling
main street with casks of ice or cargoes
of fruit. Cloverdell gentry had lived
high once upon time.
Women gathered closer together and
tried to speak words of comfort, which
e., of
from the heart. The story of their hard
ships waxed old. Ingenuity in the con-
triving of substitutes for the daily neces-
saries of life had become commonplace
to an extent that made it wearisome
conversational stuff.
Even the poor comfort of weekly
paper printed on wall paper was taken
from them. All the wall paper gave
out, and the editor went to the war.
Once in a great while an uncertain
item of news touching the Apologize
sharpshoo5ers would percolate through
the enemy's lines to make or mar the
Say fer some wife or mother.
This condition of deadly stagnation
began to tell on Miss Melanie's temper.
Ollie found her one morning drawing
on her gloves with an energy that
amounted to Spite There were traces of
tears on the little woman's cheeks and
her lips were tightly compressed as II
she were suppressing their fresh flow.
"Where to now, auntie?" said Ollie,
twining a sympathetic arm around Miss
Melanie's waist.
"I'm going down to the store. Idon' It
think we overlooked anything the last
time we had distribution, but there
may be something left on some OF the
top shelves, and as long as I am doing
something Lester asked me to do feel
nearer to him.
$50 do IT, said Ollie. $50 do we all.
Wait and let me call sister. We will go
together -
It was q common sight, the three
Potts "girls'' on their way to the ware
rooms at the other end of town, and
they were greeted by many nod and
scrap of conversation in their progress.
Rumors of a great battle had foated to
ears ever attent, and everybody was seek
ing affirmation or denial from everybody
else in confused, bewildered fashion.
Olivia drew in her breath with a
gasp when they had safely passed the
last questioner.
''I felt as if one more question would
set me to screaming right there on the
street"
81 feel exactly the same way" said
Miss Melanie in solemn voice. 81
can't conceive why they suppose we
can give them any information.
ooh, it isn't that! We just happened
to be the last faces to come along. We
are all like a frightened lot of children,
reaching out blindly for comfort 81
ST think your comparison very poor
one, my dear. What on earth is that?'
They had come in sight of the store
Miss Melanie had been the first one to
catch a glimpse of dark object filling
one of the serrated benches.
"Its man." said Julia, stretching
her eyes wide with establishment.
"Hes asleep or dead, - said Olivia,
with conviction.