i* THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES "v^ ^5CS this Book has been dona by the Employees' of th THE PAGE STORY BOOK EDITED BY FRANK E. SPAULDING SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS AND CATHERINE T. BRYCE SUPERVISOR OF PRIMARY SCHOOLS, NEWTON, UA38. ILLUSTRATED NEW m&Klyn Union CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1914 COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONb Two kittle Confederates, Copyright, 1888; Among the Camps, Copyright, 1891 ; Bred in the Bone, Copyright, 1904 CONTENTS CO PACT A LITTLE CONFEDERATE HERO . . . . i JACK AND JAKE ....... 17 1 KlTTYKIN AND THE PART SHE PLAYED IN THE WAR ......... 50 CM 5- in Two LITTLE CONFEDERATES ..... 65 > I. THEIR ADVENTURE WITH UNION RAIDERS 65 II. THEIR CAPTURE BY UNION SOLDIERS . 80 d NANCY PANSY ........ 88 o THE CHRISTMAS PEACE ...... 108 451767 ILLUSTRATIONS Portrait Frontispiece FACING PAGB Colonel Stafford unwrapped the bundle and disclosed a large doll, a tiny blue uniform and sword . 2 He drew them plans of the roads and hills and big woods 24 "I want my Kittykin" 58 The boy faced his captor who held a strap in one hand 82 As he stalked on, bitter and lonely, he was suddenly run into by a little boy 112 INTRODUCTION IN early education no other form of literature is, on the whole, quite equal to the true story. At certain ages most children have a taste for myth, legend, and fairy tale, and some few like poetry. But every child dearly loves the true story loves it not at any particular age, but at all times. But the story must be true not merely nor even necessarily true to the letter, but true to life, to nature, to experience. And it must be true to the possibilities of personal experience as these are conceived by the reader or listener. Such, in eminent degree, are the six stories by Thomas Nelson Page here presented. The he- roes and heroines of these stories and they are real heroes and heroines are boys and girls from seven to fourteen years of age. Their wholesome thoughts and feelings, the true courage, moral as well as physical, displayed in their eventful ca- reers, appeal strongly to the sympathy and ad- miration of children of like age, and scarcely less to youth and adult. Every story is instinct with moral stimulation. Courage, honesty, truth, sym- x Introduction pathy, loyalty, patriotism, and many more of the fundamental virtues are taught in the only ef- fective way by living, attractive example. The value of this book from the ethical standpoint can scarcely be overstated. The stories are full of life, of action, of inci- dent, of generous bravery, mingled with not a little pathos and with some humor. They move amid scenes and objects of perennial interest to girlhood and boyhood horses, soldiers, and Christmas. Moreover, they are historically true, faithful, within their limits, to the real character and spirit of the place and time which they repre- sent the South during and immediately follow- ing the Civil War. They are not less faithful, on the other hand, to the honest spirit and purpose of those who fought for the principles of the North. In short, they are fair to both sides, in statement, temper, and tendency. Hence they are admirably adapted to put the child in the right attitude to approach the study of this period of our country's history. It will interest the young reader to know that the author of these stories was at that time a boy of the age of his young heroes; that he lived in the midst of the kind of events which he describes so vividly ; and that he has made free use of his own experiences of that period. Mr. Page was born at Oakland Plantation, Introduction xi Hanover County, Va., April 23, 1853. In the first chapter of his " Two Little Confederates " he says of his boyhood home : " It was not a handsome place, as modern ideas go, but down in Old Virginia, where the standard was different from the later one, it passed in old times as one of the best plantations in all that region. . . . It was quite secluded. It lay, it is true, right between two of the county roads, the Court- house Road being on one side, and on the other the great ' Mountain Road,' down which the large covered wagons with six horses and jingling bells used to go. ... " The mansion itself was known on the planta- tion as ' the great-house,' to distinguish it from all the other houses on the place, of which there were many. It had as many wings as the angels in the vision of Ezekiel." The young boy's life was filled with soldiers and armies, first of the South and later of the North, as they passed along those county roads, made raids, or encamped in the vicinity. Four of the stories in this book A Little Con- federate Hero, Jack and Jake, Kitty kin, and Nancy Pansy are taken from " Among the Camps," a book of young people's stories of the war, first published in 1891. The two adventures of The Two Little Confederates are taken from the book of the same title, published in 1888. The Christ- xii Introduction mas Peace is from a book of stories entitled " Bred in the Bone," and published in 1904. With the exception of the first, all these stories bear the titles given them in the original publica- tions. Abridgment of the original stories has been necessary, however, partly for the sake of reducing them to the limits of space available, but also for the purpose of bringing them through- out within an approximately uniform range of intelligence and interest. The entire book is thus adapted to the use and enjoyment of children in the fourth and fifth school grades. This abridg- ment and adaptation, it is hoped, have been ef- fected without affecting unfavorably the unity or the original import of the stories. At the same time no effort has been made to satisfy completely the interest and curiosity of the young reader. On the contrary, experience has shown that many will be stimulated to read the full story as origi- nally told, and even other stories in the books from which these are taken. Aside from introductory paragraphs, summa- rizing briefly the essential features of omitted por- tions, and some slight adaptations in Nancy Pansy, the stories are here given in the exact language of the originals. NEWTON, MASS. r. E. S. March, 1906. THE PAGE STORY BOOK THE PAGE STORY BOOK A LITTLE CONFEDERATE HERO IN the South, during the war, it became more and more difficult each year to secure new play- things and other Christmas presents for the chil- dren. Colonel Stafford, a Confederate officer, had promised his little ones some bright new presents for " next Christmas." These he procured at the first opportunity, and tied them up in a bundle, which he guarded with great care in camp, on the march, and in battle. So great was his evident anxiety for the safety of the precious bundle, the soldiers became curious to know its contents. So one evening, before the camp-fire, Colonel Staf- ford unwrapped the bundle and disclosed a large doll, a tiny blue uniform and sword, and a few other things dear to childhood. As he told about his little ones, Evelyn and Charlie, Ran and Bob, there were few dry eyes among the soldiers. Not the least moved was General Denby, a stern old 2 The Page Story Book Union officer held prisoner by Colonel Stafford. As he looked and listened, he thought of his own dear grandchild far away in the North. There- after Colonel Stafford treated the Union General with even more consideration than before. Before Christmas came the Union army was in control of the country about Colonel Stafford's home. General Denby, the former prisoner of war, was in command of the forces encamped near the Stafford homestead. As Christmas approached, hope waned in the Stafford family. The father could never reach them through the Union lines. So the mother, enlisting the aid of the older boys, Bob and Ran, set bravely to work to supply the presents which Evelyn and Charlie had looked forward to all the year. She made a gray uniform for Charlie out of an old army coat of her husband's, while the boys made a tin sword and whittled out a wooden doll. But Christmas eve, true to his word, Colonel Stafford appeared, bringing his precious bundle of Christmas things. He had passed through the enemy's lines disguised as a pedler. II When the pack was opened, such a treasure- house of toys and things was displayed as surely Colonel Stafford unwrapped the bundle and disclosed a large doll, a tiny blue uniform and sword. A Little Confederate Hero 3 never greeted any other eyes. The smaller chil- dren, including Ran, were not awaked, at their father's request, though Mrs. Stafford wished to wake them to see him; but Bob was let into the secrets, except that he was not permitted to see a small package which bore his name. Mrs. Staf- ford and the Colonel were like two children them- selves as they " tipped " about stuffing the long stockings with candy and toys of all kinds. The beautiful doll with flaxen hair, all arrayed in silk and lace, was seated, last of all, securely on top of Evelyn's stocking, with her wardrobe just below her, where she would greet her young mistress when she should first open her eyes ; and Charlie's little blue uniform was pinned beside the gray one his mother had made, with his sword buckled around the waist. Bob was at last dismissed to his room, and the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford settled themselves be- fore the fire, hand in hand, to talk over all the past. They had hardly started, when Bob rushed down the stairs and dashed into their room. " Papa! papa! the yard's full of Yankees! " Both the Colonel and Mrs. Stafford sprang to their feet. ** Through the back door ! " cried Mrs. Staf- ford, seizing her husband. " He cannot get out that way they are every- where ; I saw them from my window ! " gasped 4 The Page Story Book Bob, just as the sound of trampling without be- came audible. "Oh, what will you do? Those clothes! If they catch you in those clothes ! " began Mrs. Staf- ford, and then stopped, her face growing ashy pale. Bob also turned even whiter than he had been before. He remembered the young man who was found in citizen's clothes in the au- tumn, and knew his dreadful fate. He burst out crying. " Oh, papa ! will they hang you ? " he sobbed. " I hope not, my son," said the Colonel grave- ly. " Certainly not, if I can prevent it." A gleam of amusement stole into his eyes. " It's an awkward fix, certainly," he added. " You must conceal yourself ! " cried Mrs. Staf- ford, as a number of footsteps sounded on the porch, and a thundering knock shook the door. " Come here ! " She pulled him almost by main force into a closet or entry, and locked the door, just as the knocking was renewed. As the door was apparently about to be broken down, she went out into the hall. Her face was deadly white, and her lips were moving in prayer. " Who's there? " she called tremblingly, trying to gain time. " Open the door immediately, or it will be broken down," replied a stern voice. She turned the great iron key in the heavy old A Little Confederate Hero 5 brass lock, and a dozen men rushed into the hall. They all waited for one, a tall elderly man in a general's fatigue uniform, and with a stern face and a grizzled beard. He addressed her : " Madam, I have come to take possession of this house as my headquarters." Mrs. Stafford bowed, unable to speak. She was sensible of a feeling of relief; there was a gleam of hope. If they did not know of her husband's presence But the next word de- stroyed it. " We have not interfered with you up to the present time, but you have been harboring a spy here, and he is here now." " There is no spy here, and has never been," said Mrs. Stafford with dignity ; " but if there were, you should not know it from me." She spoke with much spirit. " It is not the custom of our people to deliver up those who have sought their protection." The officer removed his hat. His keen eye was fixed on her white face. " We shall search the premises," he said sternly, but more respect- fully than he had yet spoken. " Major, have the house thoroughly searched." The men went striding off, opening doors and looking through the rooms. The General took a turn up and down the hall. He walked up to a door. 6 The Page Story Book "That is my chamber," said Mrs. Stafford quickly. The officer fell back. " It must be searched," he said. " My little children are asleep in there," said Mrs. Stafford, her face quite white. " It must be searched," repeated the General. " Either they must do it, or I. You can take your choice." Mrs. Stafford made a gesture of assent. He opened the door and stepped across the threshold. There he stopped. His eye took in the scene. Charlie was lying in the little trundle-bed in the corner, calm and peaceful, and by his side was Evelyn, her little face looking like a flower lying in the tangle of golden hair which fell over her pillow. The noise disturbed her slightly, for she smiled suddenly, and muttered something about " Santa Tlaus " and a " dolly." The officer's gaze swept the room, and fell on the overcrowded stockings hanging from the mantel. He advanced to the fireplace and examined the doll and trousers closely. With a curious expression on his face, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. " Major," he said to the officer in charge of the searching party, who descended the steps just then, " take the men back to camp, except the sentinels. There is no spy here." A Little Confederate Hero 7 In a moment Mrs. Stafford came out of her chamber. The old officer was walking up and down in deep thought. Suddenly he turned to her: " Madam, be so kind as to go and tell Colonel Stafford that General Denby desires him to sur- render himself." Mrs. Stafford was struck dumb. She was un- able to move or to articulate. " I shall wait for him," said the General quietly, throwing himself into an arm-chair and looking steadily into the fire. in As his father concealed himself, Bob had left the chamber. He was in a perfect agony of mind. He knew that his father could not escape, and if he were found dressed in citizen's clothes he felt that he could have but one fate. All sorts of schemes entered his boy's head to save him. Sud- denly he thought of the small group of prisoners he had seen pass by about dark. He would save him! Putting on his hat, he opened the front door and walked out. A sentinel accosted him surlily to know where he was going. Bob in- vited him in to get warm, and soon had him engaged in conversation. " What do you do with your prisoners when you catch them ? " inquired Bob. 8 The Page Story Book " Send some on to prison and hang some." " I mean when you first catch them." " Oh, they stay in camp. We don't treat 'em bad, without they be spies. There's a batch at camp now, got in this evening sort o' Christmas gift." The soldier laughed as he stamped his feet to keep warm. " Where's your camp ? " Bob asked. " About a mile from here, right on the road, or rather right on the hill at the edge of the pines 'yond the crick." * The boy left his companion, and sauntered in and out among the other men in the yard. Pres- ently he moved on to the edge of the lawn beyond them. No one took further notice of him. In a second he had slipped through the gate, and was flying across the field. He knew every foot of ground as well as a hare, for he had been hunting and setting traps over it since he was as big as little Charlie. He had to make a detour at the creek to avoid the picket, and the dense briers were very bad and painful. However, he worked his way through, though his face was severely scratched. Into the creek he plunged. " Ouch ! " He had stepped into a hole, and the water was as cold as ice. However, he was through, and at the top of the hill he could see the glow of the camp- fires lighting up the sky. He crept cautiously up, and saw the dark forms A Little Confederate Hero 9 of the sentinels pacing backward and forward wrapped in their overcoats, now lit up by the fire, then growing black against its blazing embers, then lit up again, and passing away into the shadow. How could he ever get by them ? His heart began to beat and his teeth to chatter, but he walked boldly up. "Halt! who goes there?" cried the sentry, bringing his gun down and advancing on him. Bob kept on, and the sentinel, finding that it was only a boy, looked rather sheepish. " Don't let him capture you, Jim," called one of them. " Call the Corporal of the Guard," an- other. " Order up the reserves," a third, and so on. Bob had to undergo something of an ex- amination. ^ " I know the little Johnny," said one of them. They made him draw up to the fire, and made quite a fuss over him. Bob had his wits about him, and soon learned that a batch of prisoners were at a fire a hundred yards farther back. He therefore worked his way over there, although he was advised to stay where he was and get dry, and had many offers of a bunk from his new friends, some of whom followed him over to where the prisoners were. Most of them were quartered for the night in a hut before which a guard was stationed. One or io The Page Story Book two, however, sat around the camp-fire, chatting with their guards. Among them was a major in full uniform. Bob singled him out; he was just about his father's size. He was instantly the centre of attraction. Again he told them he was from Holly Hill ; again he was recognized by one of the men. " Run away to join the army? " asked one. " No," said Bob, his eyes flashing at the sug- gestion. "Lost?" " No." " Mother whipped you ? " " No." As soon as their curiosity had somewhat sub- sided, Bob, who had hardly been able to contain himself, said to the Confederate major in a low undertone : " My father, Colonel Stafford, is at home, con- cealed, and the Yankees have taken possession of the house." " Well? " said the major, looking down at him as if casually. " He cannot escape, and he has on citizen's clothes, and " Bob's voice choked suddenly as he gazed at the major's uniform. " Well ? " The prisoner for a second looked sharply down at the boy's earnest face. Then he put his hand under his chin, and lifting it, looked A Little Confederate Hero 1 1 into his eyes. Bob shivered, and a sob escaped him. The major placed his hand firmly on his knee. " Why, you are wringing wet," he said aloud. " I wonder you are not frozen to death." He rose and stripped off his coat. " Here, get into this ; " and before the boy knew it, the major had bun- dled him into his coat, and rolled up the sleeves so that Bob could use his hands. The action at- tracted the attention of the rest of the group, and several of the Yankees offered to take the boy and give him dry clothes. " No, sir," laughed the major; " this boy is a rebel. Do you think he will wear one of your Yankee suits? He's a little major, and I'm going to give him a major's uniform." r In a minute he had stripped off his trousers, and was helping Bob into them, standing himself in his underclothes in the icy air. The legs were three times too long for the boy, and the waist came up to his armpits. " Now go home to your mother," said the major, laughing at his appearance; "and some of you fellows get me some clothes, or a blanket. I'll wear your Yankee uniform out of sheer ne- cessity." Bob trotted around, keeping as far away from the light of the camp-fires as possible. He soon found himself unobserved, and reached the 12 The Page Story Book shadow of a line of huts, and keeping- well in it, he came to the edge of the camp. He watched his opportunity, and when the sentry's back was turned slipped out into the darkness. In an in- stant he was flying down the hill. The heavy clothes impeded him, and he stopped only long enough to snatch them off and roll them into a bundle, and sped on his way again. He struck the main road, and was running down the hill as fast as his legs could carry him, when he suddenly found himself almost on a group of dark objects who were standing in the road just in front of him. One of them moved. It was the picket. Bob suddenly stopped. His heart was in his throat. " Who goes there ? " said a stern voice. Bob's heart beat as if it would spring out of his body. " Come in ; we have you," said the man, ad- vancing. Bob sprang across the ditch beside the road, and putting his hand on the top rail of the fence, flung himself over it, bundle and all, flat on the other side, just as a blaze of light burst from the picket, and the report of a carbine startled the silent night. The bullet grazed the boy's arm and crashed through the rail. In a second Bob was on his feet. The picket was almost on him. Seizing his bundle, he dived into the thicket as a A Little Confederate Hero 13 half-dozen shots were sent ringing after him, the bullets hissing and whistling over his head. Sev- eral men dashed into the woods after him in hot pursuit, and a couple more galloped up the road to intercept him ; but Bob's feet were winged, and he slipped through briers and brush like a scared hare. They scratched his face and threw him down, but he was up again. Now and then a shot crashed behind him, but he did not care for that ; he thought only of being caught. A few hundred yards up, he plunged into the stream, and wading across, was soon safe from his pursuers. Breathless, he climbed the hill, made his way through the woods, and emerged into the open fields. Across these he sped like a deer. He had almost given out. What if they should have caught his father, and he should be too late ! A sob escaped him at the bare thought, and he broke again into a run, wiping off with his sleeve the tears that would come. The wind cut him like a knife, but he did not mind that. As he neared the house he feared that he might be intercepted again and the clothes taken from him, so he stopped for a moment, and slipped them on once more, rolling up the sleeves and legs as well as he could. He crossed the yard undisturbed. He went around to the same door by which he had come out, for he thought this his best chance. The same sentinel was there, walk- 14 The Page Story Book ing up and down, blowing his cold hands. Had his father been arrested? Bob's teeth chattered, but it was with suppressed excitement. " Pretty cold," said the sentry. " Ye-es," gasped Bob. " Your mother's been out here looking for you, I guess," said the soldier, with much friendliness. " I rec-reckon so," panted Bob, moving toward the door. Did that mean that his father was caught ? He opened the door, and slipped quietly into the corridor. General Denby still sat silent before the hall fire. Bob listened at the chamber door. His mother was weeping; his father stood calm and resolute before the fire. He had determined to give himself up. " If you only did not have on those clothes! " sobbed Mrs. Stafford. " If I only had not cut up the old uniform for the children ! " " Mother, mother, I have one ! " gasped Bob, bursting into the room and tearing off the un- known major's uniform. Ten minutes later, Colonel Stafford, with a steady step and a proud carriage, and with his hand resting on Bob's shoulder, walked out into the hall. He was dressed in the uniform of a Confederate major, which fitted admirably his tall, erect figure. " General Denby, I believe," he said, as the A Little Confederate Hero 15 Union officer rose and faced him. " We have met before under somewhat different circum- stances," he said, with a bow, " for I now find myself your prisoner." " I have the honor to request your parole," said the General, with great politeness, " and to express the hope that I may be able in some way to return the courtesy which I formerly received at your hands." He extended his hand, and Colonel Stafford took it. " You have my parole," said he. " I was not aware," said the General, with a bow toward Mrs. Stafford, " until I entered the room where your children were sleeping, that I had the honor of your husband's acquaintance. I will now take my leave and return to camp, that I may not by my presence interfere with the joy of this season." " I desire to introduce to you my son," said Colonel Stafford, proudly presenting Bob. " He is a hero." The General bowed as he shook hands with him. Perhaps he had some suspicion how true a hero he was, for he rested his hand kindly on the boy's head, but he said nothing. Both Colonel and Mrs. Stafford invited the old soldier to spend the night there, but he declined. He, however, accepted an invitation to dine with them next day. i6 Before leaving, he requested permission to take one more look at the sleeping children. Over Evelyn he bent silently. Suddenly stooping, he kissed her little pink cheek, and with a scarcely audible " Good-night," passed out of the room and left the house. JACK AND JAKE.' " JACK AND JAKE." This is what they used to be called. Their names were always coupled to- gether. Wherever you saw one, you were very apt to see the other Jack, slender, with yellow hair, big gray eyes, and spirited look; and Jake, thick-set and brown, close to him, like his shadow, with his shining skin and white teeth. They were always in sight somewhere; it might be running about the yard or far down on the plantation, or it might be climbing trees to look into birds' nests which they were forbidden to trouble or wad- ing in the creek, riding in the carts or wagons about the fields, or following the furrow, waiting a chance to ride a plough-horse home. Jake belonged to Jack. He had been given to him by his old master, Jack's grandfather, when Jack was only a few years old, and from that time the two boys were rarely separated, except at night. Jake was a little larger than Jack, as he was somewhat older, but Jack was the more active. 17 18 Jake was dull ; some people on the plantation said he did not have good sense; but they rarely ven- tured to say so twice to Jack. Jack said he had more sense than any man on the place. At least, he idolized Jack. At times the people commented on the white boy being so much with the black; but Jack's father said it was as natural for them to run to- gether as for two calves a black one and a white one when they were turned out together; that he had played with Uncle Ralph, the butler, when they were boys, and had taught the latter as much badness as he had him. So the two boys grew up together as " Jack and Jake," forming a friendship which prevented either of them ever knowing that Jake was a slave, and brought them up as friends rather than as master and servant. If there was any difference, the boys thought it was rather in favor of Jake; for Jack had to go to school, and sit for some hours every morn- ing " saying lessons " to his aunt, and had to look out (sometimes) for his clothes, while Jake just lounged around outside the school-room door, and could do as he pleased, for he was sure to get Jack's suit as soon as it had become too much worn for Jack. The games they used to play were surprising. Jack always knew of some interesting thing they "Jack and Jake" 19 could " make 'tence " (that is, pretence) that they were doing. They could be fishers and trappers, of course ; for there was the creek winding down the meadow, in and out among the heavy willows on its banks; and in the holes under the fences and by the shelving rocks, where the water was blue and deep, there were shining minnows, and even little perch ; and they could be lost on rafts, for there was the pond, and with their trousers rolled up to their thighs they could get on planks and pole themselves about. But the best fun of all was " In j ins." Good- ness! how much fun there was in In j ins! There were bows and arrows, and tomahawks, and wig- wams, and fires in the woods, and painted faces, and creeping-ups, and scalpings, and stealing horses, and hot pursuits, and hidings, and cap- tures, and bringing the horses back, and the full revenge and triumph that are dear to boys' hearts. In j ins was, of all plays, the best. There was a dear old wonderful fellow named Leatherstock- ing, who was the greatest " Injin"-hunter in the world. Jack knew all about him. He had a book with him in it, and he read it and told Jake ; and so they played In j ins whenever they wanted real fun. It was a beautiful place for Injins; the hills rolled, the creeks wound in and out among the willows, and ran through thickets into the little river, and the woods surrounded the plantation 2O The Page Story Book on all sides, and stretched across the river to the Mont Air place, so that the boys could cross over and play on the other side of the thick woods. When the war came, Jack was almost a big boy. He thought he was quite one. He was ten years old, and grew old two years at a time. His father went off with the army, and left his mother at home to take care of the plantation and the children. That included Ancy and wee Martha; not Jack, of course. So far from leaving any one to take care of Jack, he left Jack to take care of his mother. The morning he went away he called Jack to him and had a talk with him. He told him he wanted him to mind his mother, and look out for her, to help her and save her trouble, to take care of her and comfort her, and defend her always like a man. Jack was standing right in front of him, and when the talk began he was fidgety, because he was in a great hurry to go to the stable and ride his father's horse Warrior to the house; but his father had never talked to him so before, and as he proceeded, Jack became grave, and when his father took his hand, and, looking him quietly in the eyes, said, " Will you, my son ? " he burst out crying, and flung his arms around his father's neck, and said, " Yes, father, I will." * He did not go out of the house any more then ; he left the horse to be brought down by Uncle "Jack and Jake" 21 Henry, the carriage-driver, and he sat quietly by his father, and kept his eyes on him, getting him anything he wanted; and he waited on his mother ; and when his father went away, he kissed him, and said all over again that he would do what he promised. And when his mother locked herself in her room afterward, Jack sat on the front porch alone, in his father's chair, and waited. And when she came out on the porch, with her eyes red from weeping and her face worn, he did not say anything, but quietly went and got her a glass of water. His father's talk had aged him. For the first two years the war did not make much difference to Jack personally. It made a difference to the country, and to the people, and to his mother, but not to Jack individually, though it made a marked difference in him. It made him older. His father's words never were forgotten. They had sobered him and steadied him. He had seen a great deal of the war. The troop trains passed up the railroad, the soldiers cheering and shouting, filling the cars and crowding on top of them; the army, or parts of it, marched through the country by the county roads, camping in the woods and fields. Many soldiers stopped at Jack's home, where open house was kept, and everything was gladly given to them. All the visitors now were soldiers. Jack rode the gentle- 22 The Page Story Book men's horses to water, with Jake behind him, if there was but one (in which case the horse was apt to get several waterings), or galloping after him, if there were more. They were hard riders, and got many falls, for the young officers were usually well mounted, and their horses were wild. But a fall was no disgrace. Jack remembered that his father once said to him, when a colt had thrown him, " All bold riders get falls ; only those do not who ride tame horses." All the visitors were in uniform; all the talk was of war; all thoughts were of the Confederacy. Every one was enthusiastic. No sacrifices were too great to be made. The corn-houses were emptied into the great, covered, blue army wagons; the pick of the horses and mules was given up. Provisions became scanty and the food plain; coffee and tea disappeared; clothes that were worn out were replaced by homespun. Jack dressed in the same sort of coarse, grayish stuff of which Jake's clothes used to be made ; and his boots were made by Uncle Dick at the quarters; but this did not trouble him. It was rather fun than otherwise. Boys like to rough it. He had come to care little for these things. He was get- ting manlier. His mother called him her pro- tector ; his father, when he came home as he did once or twice a year called him " a man," and introduced him to his friends as " my son." "Jack and Jake " 23 His mother began to consult him, to rely on him, to call on him. He used to go about with her, or go for her wherever she had business, how- ever far off it might be. The war had been going on two years, when the enemy first reached Jack's home. It was a great shock to Jack, for he had never doubted that the Confederates would keep them back. There had been a great battle some time before, and his father had been wounded and taken prisoner (at first he was reported killed). But for that, Jack said, the " Yankees " would never have got there. The Union troops did not trouble Jack personally, but they made a great deal of trouble about the place. They took all the horses and mules that were good for anything and put them in their wagons. This was a terrible blow to Jack. All his life he had been brought up with the horses; each one was his pet or his friend. After that the war seemed to be much more about Jack's home than it had been before. The place was in the possession first of one army and then of the other, and at last, one winter, the two armies lay not far apart, with Jack's home just between them. " The Yankees " were the nearer. Their pickets were actually on the plantation, at the ford, and at the bridge over the little river into which the creek emptied, in the big woods. There they lay, with their camps over behind the 24 The Page Story Book hills, a mile or two farther away. At night the glow of their camp-fires could be seen. Jack had a pretty aunt who used to stay with his mother, and many young officers used to come over from the Confederate side to see her. In such cases they usually came at night, leaving their horses, for scouting parties used to come in on them oc- casionally and stir them up. Once or twice skirmishes took place in the fields beyond the creek. One evening a party of young officers came in and took supper. They had some great plan. They were quite mysterious, and consulted with Jack's mother, who was greatly interested in them. They appeared a little shy of talking be- fore Jack; but when his mother said he had so much judgment that he could be trusted, they talked openly in his presence. They had a plan to go into the Federal camp that night and seize the commanding officer. They wanted to know all the paths. Jack could tell them. He was so proud. There was not a cow-path he did not know for two or three miles around, for he and Jake had hunted all over the country. He could tell them everything, and he did so with a swell- ing heart. They laid sheets of paper down on the dining-table, and he drew them plans of the roads and hills and big woods; showed where the river could be waded, and where the ravines "O o o a. 6 s E Kitty kin 59 one who had taken off a blue jacket climbed up on his shoulders, and might have got up very well if he had not remarked that as the Johnnies had walked over him in the last battle, it was but fair that he should now walk over a Johnny. This joke tickled the man under him so that he slipped away and let him down. At length, how- ever, three or four men got good " holds," and went slowly up one after the other, amid such encouraging shouts from their friends on the ground below as, " Go it, Yank, the Johnny's al- most got you ! " " Look out, Johnny, the Yanks are right behind you! " etc., while Kittykin gazed down in astonishment from above, and Evelyn looked up breathless from below. With much pulling and kicking, four men finally got up to the lowest limb, after which the climbing was comparatively easy. A new difficulty, however, presented itself. Kittykin suddenly took alarm, and retreated still higher up among the branches. The higher they climbed after that, the higher she climbed, until she was away up on one of the topmost boughs, which was far too slender for any one to follow her. There she turned, and looked back with alternate alarm and satisfaction expressed in her countenance. If the men stirred, she stood ready to fly; if they kept still, she set- tled down and mewed plaintively. Once or twice, 60 The Page Story Book as they moved, she took fright and looked almost as if about to jump. Evelyn was breathless with excitement. " Don't let her jump," she called, " she will get kilt ! " The men, too, were anxious to prevent that. They called to her, held out their hands, and coaxed her in every tone by which a kitten is supposed to be influenced. But it was all in vain. No cajoleries, no promises, no threats, were of the least avail. Kittykin was there safe out of their reach, and there she would remain, sixty feet above the ground. Suddenly she saw that something was occurring below. She saw the men all gather around her little mistress, and could hear her at first refuse to let something be done, and then consent. She could not make out what it was, though she strained her ears. She remembered to have heard mammy tell her little mistress once that " curiosity had killed a cat," and she was afraid to think too much about it so high up in the tree. Still, when she heard an order given, " Go back and get your blankets," and saw a whole lot of the men go running off into the field on either side, and presently come back with their arms full of blankets, she could not help wondering what they were going to do. They at once began to unroll the blankets and hold them open all around the tree, until a large circle of the ground was quite hidden. Kitty kin 61 "Ah," said Kittykin, "it's a wicked trap!" and she dug her little claws deep into the bark, and made up her mind that nothing should in- duce her to jump. Presently she heard the sol- diers in the tree under her call to those on the ground : " Are you ready ? " And they said, "All right!" " Ah," said Kittykin, " they cannot get down, either. Serves them right ! " But suddenly they all waved their -arms at her, and cried, " Scat ! " Goodness ! The idea of crying " scat " at a kitten when she is up in a tree ! " scat," which fills a kitten's breast with terror ! It was brutal, and then it was all so unexpected. It came very near making her fall. As it was, it set her heart to thumping and bumping against her ribs, like a marble in a box. " Ah," she thought, " if those brutes below were but mice, and I had them on the carpet ! " So she dug her claws into the bark, which was quite tender up there, and it was well she did, for she heard some one call something below that sounded like " Shake ! " and before she knew it the man nearest her reached up, and, seizing the limb on which she was, screwed up his face, and Goodness! it nearly shook the teeth out of her mouth and the eyes out of her head. 62 The Page Story Book Shake ! shake ! shake ! it came again, each time nearly tearing her little claws out of their sockets and scaring her to death. She saw the ground swim far below her, and felt that she would be mashed to death. Shake! shake! shake! shake! She could not hold out much longer, and she spat down at them. How those brutes below laughed ! She formed a desperate resolve. She would get even with them. " Ah, if they were but " Shake! sha With a fierce spit, partly of rage, partly of fear, Kittykin let go, whirled suddenly, and flung herself on the upturned face of the man next beneath her, from him to the man below him, and finally, digging her little claws deep in his flesh, sprang with a wild leap clear of the boughs, and shot whizzing out into the air, while the two men, thrown off their guard by the suddenness of the attack, loosed their hold, and went crashing down into the forks upon those below. The first thing Evelyn and the men on the ground knew was the crash of the falling men and the sight of Kittykin coming whizzing down, her little claws clutching wildly at the air. Before they could see what she was, she gave a bounce like a trap-ball as high as a man's head, and then, as she touched the ground again, shot like a wild sky-rocket hissing across the yard, and, with her tail all crooked to one side and as big as her body, vanished under the house. Oh, such a shout Kittykin 63 as there was from the soldiers! Evelyn heard them yelling as she ran off after Kittykin to see if she wasn't dead. They fairly howled with de- light as the men in the tree, with scratched faces and torn clothes, came crawling down. They looked very sheepish as they landed among their comrades ; but the question whether Kittykin had landed in a blanket or had hit the solid ground fifty feet out somewhat relieved them. They all agreed that she had bounced twenty feet. Why Kittykin was not killed outright was a marvel. One of her eyes was a little bunged up, the claws on three of her feet were loosened, and for a week she felt as if she had been run through a sausage mill ; but she never lost any of her speed. Ever afterward when she saw a soldier she would run for life, and hide as far back under the house as she could get, with her eyes shining like two little live coals. For some time, indeed, she lived in perpetual terror, for the soldiers of both lines used to come up to the house, as the friendship they formed that day never was changed, and though they re- mained on the two opposite hills for quite a while, they never fired a shot at each other. They used instead to meet and exchange tobacco and coffee, and laugh over the way Kittykin routed their joint forces in the tree the day of the skirmish. As for Kittykin, she never put on any airs 64 The Page Story Book about it. She did not care for that sort of glory. She never afterward could tolerate a tree; the earth was good enough for her; and the highest she ever climbed was up in her little mistress's lap. TWO LITTLE CONFEDERATES FRANK AND WILLY were two little Confed- erates who lived at Oakland during the war. Frank and Willy's father, older brother, and cousins were in the Confederate army. Frank and Willy, with old black "Uncle Balla," the driver, looked after their mother and the place. The Confederate, and later the Union soldiers, overran that part of the country. This gave rise to many exciting adventures for the boys. THEIR ADVENTURE WITH UNION RAIDERS One evening in May, about sunset, as the boys were playing in the yard, a man came riding through the place on the way to Richmond. His horse showed that he had been riding hard. He asked the nearest way to " Ground-Squirrel Bridge." The Yankees, he said, were coming. It was a raid. He had ridden ahead of them, and had left them about Greenbay depot, which they had set on fire. He was in too great a hurry 65 66 The Page Story Book to stop and get something to eat, and he rode ott, leaving much excitement behind him ; for Green- bay was only eight miles away, and Oakland lay right between two roads to Richmond, down one or the other of which the party of raiders must certainly pass. It was the first time the boys ever saw their mother exhibit so much emotion as she then did. She came to the door and called : " Balla, come here ! " Her voice sounded to the boys a little strained and troubled, and they ran up the steps and stood by her. Balla came to the portico, and looked up with an air of in- quiry. He, too, showed excitement. " Balla, I want you to know that if you wish to go, you can do so." " Hi, Mistis " began Balla, with an air of reproach ; but she cut him short and kept on. " I want you all to know it." She was speak- ing now so as to be heard by the cook and the maids, who were standing about the yard listen- ing to her. " I want you all to know it every one on the place ! You can go, if you wish ; but if you go, you can never come back ! " " Hi, Mistis," broke in Uncle Balla, " whar is I got to go? I wuz born on dis place, an' I 'spec' to die here, an' be buried right yonder ; " and he turned and pointed up to the dark clumps of trees that marked the graveyard on the hill, a half e th *7* ha * Two Little mile away, where the colored people were buried. "Dat I does," he affirmed positively. " Y' all sticks by us, an' we'll stick by you." " I know I ain' gwine nowhar wid no Yankees or nothin'," said Lucy Ann in an undertone. " Dee tell me dee got hoofs and horns," laughed one of the women in the yard. The boys' mother started to say something fur- ther to Balla, but though she opened her lips, she did not speak; she turned suddenly and walked into the house and into her chamber, where she shut the door behind her. The boys thought she was angry, but when they softly followed her, a few minutes afterward, she got up hastily from where she had been kneeling beside the bed, and they saw that she had been crying. A murmur under the window called them back to the por- tico. It had begun to grow dark; but a bright spot was glowing on the horizon, and on this every one's gaze was fixed. " Where is it, Balla? What is it? " asked the boys' mother, her voice no longer strained and harsh, but even softer than usual. " It's the depot, madam. They's burnin' it. That man told me they was burnin' ev'ywhar they went.'* " Will they be here to-night? " asked his mis- tress. " No, marm ; I don' hardly think they will. 68 The Page Story Book That man said they couldn't travel more than thirty miles a day; but they'll be plenty of 'em to-morrow to breakfast." He gave a nervous sort of laugh. " Here you all come here," said their mis- tress to the servants. She went to the smoke- house and unlocked it. " Go in there and get down the bacon; take a piece, each of you." A great deal was still left. " Balla, step here." She called him aside and spoke earnestly in an undertone. " Yes'm, that's so ; that's jes' what I wuz gwine do," the boys heard him say. Their mother sent the boys out. She went and locked herself in her room, but they heard her footsteps as she turned about within, and now and then they heard her opening and shutting drawers and moving chairs. In a little while she came out. " Frank, you and Willy go and tell Balla to come to the chamber door. He may be out in the stable." They dashed out, proud to bear so important a message. They could not find him, but an hour later they heard him coming from the stable. He at once went into the house. They rushed into the chamber, where they found the door of the closet open. " Balla, come in here," called their mother Two Little Confederates 69 from within. " Have you got them safe ? " she asked. " Yes'm; jes' as safe as they kin be. I want to be 'bout here when they come, or I'd go down an' stay whar they is." " What is it ? " asked the boys. "Where is the best place to put that?" she said, pointing to a large strong box in which, they knew, the finest silver was kept; indeed, all excepting what was used every day on the table. " Well, I declar', Mistis, that's hard to tell," said the old driver, " without it's in the stable." " They may burn that down." " That's so. You might bury it under the floor of the smoke-house ? " " I have heard that they always look for silver there," said the boys' mother. " How would it do to bury it in the garden ? " " That's the very place I was gwine name," said Balla, with flattering approval. " They can't burn that down, and if they gwine dig for it then they'll have to dig a long time before they git over that big garden." He stooped and lifted up one end of the box to test its weight. " I thought of the other end of the flower-bed, between the big rose-bush and the lilac." " That's the very place I had in my mind," declared the old man. " They won' never fine itdyah!" 70 The Page Story Book " We know a good place," said the boys both together ; " it's a heap better than that. It's where we bury our treasures when we play ' Black-beard the Pirate.' " " Very well," said their mother ; " I don't care to know where it is until after to-morrow, any- how. I know I can trust you," she added, ad- dressing Balla. " Yes'm, you know dat," said he simply. " I'll jes' go an' git my hoe." The boys were too excited to get sleepy be- fore the silver was hidden. Their mother told them they might go down into the garden and help Balla, on condition that they would not talk. " That's the way we always do when we bury the treasure. Ain't it, Willy ? " asked Frank. " If a man speaks, it's death ! " declared Willyj slapping his hand on his side as if to draw a sword, striking a theatrical attitude and speaking in a deep voice. " Give the ' galleon ' to us," said Frank. " No ; be off with you ! " said their mother. " That ain't the way," said Frank. " A pirate never digs the hole until he has his treasure at hand. To do so would prove him but a novice; wouldn't it, Willy?" " Well, I leave it all to you, my little buc- caneers," said their mother, laughing. " I'll take Two Little Confederates 71 care of the spoons and forks we use every day. I'll just hide them away in a hole somewhere." The boys started off after Balla with a shout, but remembered their errand and suddenly hushed down to a little squeal of delight at being actually engaged in burying treasure real silver. It seemed too good to be true, and withal there was a real excitement about it, for how could they know but that some one might watch them from some hiding-place, or might even fire into them as they worked ? They met the old fellow as he was coming from the carriage-house with a hoe and a spade in his hands. He was on his way to the garden in a very straightforward manner, but the boys made him understand that to bury treasure it was nec- essary to be particularly secret, and after some little grumbling, Balla humored them. The difficulty of getting the box of silver out of the house secretly, while all the family were up and the servants were moving about, was so great that this part of the affair had to be carried on in a manner different from the usual pro- gramme of pirates of the first water. Even the boys had to admit this; and they yielded to old Balla's advice on this point, but made up for it by additional formality, ceremony, and secrecy in pointing out the spot where the box was to be hid. Old Balla was quite accustomed to their games 72 The Page Story Book and fun their " pranks," as he called them. He accordingly yielded willingly when they marched him to a point at the lower end of the yard, on the opposite side from the garden, and left him. But he was inclined to give trouble when they both reappeared with a gun, and in a whisper announced that they must march first up the ditch which ran by the spring around the foot of the garden. " Look here, boys ; I ain' got time to fool with you chillern," said the old man. " Ain't you hear your ma tell me she 'pend on me to bury that silver what yo' gran'ma and gran'pa used to eat off o' an' don' wan' nobody to know nothin' 'bout it? An' y' all comin' here with guns, like you huntin' squ'rr'ls, an' now talkin' 'bout wadin' in the ditch ! " " But, Unc' Balla, that's the way all buccaneers do," protested Frank. " Yes, buccaneers always go by water," said Willy. " And we can stoop in the ditch and come in at the far end of the garden, so nobody can see us," added Frank. " Bookanear or bookafar, I'se gwine in dat garden and dig a hole wid my hoe, an' I is too ole to be wadin' in a ditch like chillern. I got the misery in my knee now, so bad I'se sca'cely able to stand. I don't know huccome y' all ain't sat- Two Little Confederates 73 isfied with the place you' ma an' I done pick, anyways." This was too serious a mutiny for the boys. So it was finally agreed that one gun should be returned to the office, and that they should enter by the gate, after which Balla was to go with the boys by the way they should show him, and see the spot they thought of. They took him down through the weeds around the garden, crouching under the rose-bushes, and at last stopped at a spot under the slope, com- pletely surrounded by shrubbery. " Here is the spot," said Frank in a whisper, pointing under one of the bushes. " It's in a line with the longest limb of the big oak-tree by the gate," added Willy, " and when this locust bush and that cedar grow to be big trees, it will be just half-way between them." As this seemed to Balla a very good place, he set to work at once to dig, the two boys helping him as well as they could. It took a great deal longer to dig the hole in the dark than they had expected, and when they got back to the house every tiling was quiet. The boys had their hats pulled over their eyes, and had turned their jackets inside out to dis- guise themselves. " It's a first-rate place! Ain't it, Unc' Balla? " 74 The Page Story Book they said, as they entered the chamber where their mother and aunt were waiting for them. " Do you think it will do, Balla? " their mother asked. " Oh, yes, madam ; it's far enough, an' they got mighty comical ways to get dyah, wadin' in ditch an' things it will do. I ain' sho' I kin fin' it ag'in myself." He was not particularly enthusi- astic. Now, however, he shouldered the box, with a grunt at its weight, and the party went slowly out through the back door into the dark. The glow of the burning depot was still visible in the west. Then it was decided that Willy should go be- fore he said, to " reconnoitre " ; Balla said, " to open the gate and lead the way " ; and that Frank should bring up the rear. They trudged slowly on through the darkness, Frank and Willy watching on every side, old Balla stooping under the weight of the big box. After they were some distance in the garden they heard, or thought they heard, a sound back at the gate, but decided that it was nothing but the latch clicking, and they went on down to their hiding-place. In a little while the black box was well settled in the hole, and the dirt was thrown upon it. The replaced earth made something of a mound, which was unfortunate. They had not thought of this ; Two Little Confederates 75 but they covered it with leaves, and agreed that it was so well hidden, the Yankees would never dream of looking there. " Unc' Balla, where are your horses ? " asked one of the boys. " That's for me to know, an' them to find out what kin," replied the old fellow with a chuckle of satisfaction. The whole party crept back out of the garden, and the boys were soon dreaming of buccaneers and pirates. The boys were not sure that they had even fallen asleep, when they heard Lucy Ann call out- side. They turned over to take another nap. She was coming up to the door. No, for it was a man's step, it must be Uncle Balla's ; they heard horses trampling and people talking. In a second the door was flung open, and a man strode into the room, followed by one, two, a half-dozen others, all white and all in uniform. They were Yankees. The boys were too frightened to speak. They thought they were arrested for hiding the silver. " Get up, you lazy little rebels ! " cried one of the intruders, not unpleasantly. As the boys were not very quick in obeying, being really too fright- ened to do more than sit up in bed, the man caught the mattress by the end, and, lifting it with a 76 The Page Story Book jerk, emptied them and all the bedclothes out into the middle of the floor in a heap. At this all the other men laughed. A minute more and he had drawn his sword. The boys expected no less than to be immediately killed. They were almost paralyzed. But instead of plunging his sword into them, the man began to stick it into the mattresses and to rip them up; while others pulled open the drawers of the bureau and pitched the things on the floor. The boys felt themselves to be in a very ex- posed and defenceless condition; and Willy, who had become tangled in the bedclothes, and had been a little hurt in falling, now that the strain was somewhat over, began to cry. In a minute a shadow darkened the doorway, and their mother stood in the room. " Leave the room instantly ! " she cried. " Aren't you ashamed to frighten children ? " " We haven't hurt the brats," said the man with the sword good-naturedly. " Well, you terrify them to death. It's just as bad. Give me those clothes ! " and she sprang forward and snatched the boys' clothes from the hands of a man who had taken them up. She flung the suits to the boys, who lost no time in slipping into them. They had at once recovered their courage in the presence of their mother. She seemed to Two Little Confederates 77 them, ss she braved the intruders, the grandest person they had ever seen. Her face was white, but her eyes were like coals of fire. They were very glad she had never looked or talked so to them. When they got outdoors the yard was full of soldiers. They were upon the porches, in the entry, and in the house. The smoke-house was open, and so were the doors of all the other out- houses, and now and then a man passed, carry- ing some article which the boys recognized. In a little while the soldiers had taken every- thing they could carry conveniently, and even things which must have caused them some incon- venience. They had secured all the bacon that had been left in the smoke-house, as well as all other eatables they could find. It was a queer sight, to see the fellows sitting on their horses with a ham or a pair of fowls tied to one side of the saddle, and an engraving, or a package of books, or some ornament, to the other. A new party of men had by this time come up from the direction of the stables. " Old man, come here! " called some of them to Balla, who was standing expostulating with the men who were about the fire. Who me? " asked Balla. " B'ain't you the carriage driver? " " Ain't I the keridge driver? " 78 The Page Story Book " Yes, you; we know you are, so you need not be lying about it." " Hi ! yes, I the keridge driver. Who say I ain't?" " Well, where have you hid those horses? Come, we want to know quick," said the fellow roughly, taking out his pistol in a threatening way. The old man's eyes grew wide. " Hi ! befo' de Lord, Marster, how I know anything of the horses ef they ain't in the stable? There's where we keep horses." " Here, you come with us ! We won't have no foolin' 'bout this," said his questioner, seizing him by the shoulder and jerking him angrily around. "If you don't show us pretty quick where those horses are, we'll put a bullet or two into you. March off there ! " He was backed by a half-dozen more, but the pistol which was at old Balla's head was his most efficient ally. " Hi ! Marster, don't p'int dat thing at me that way. I ain' ready to die yit; an' I ain' like dem things noways," protested Balla. There is no telling how much further his cour- age could have withstood their threats, for the boys' mother made her appearance. She was about to bid Balla show where the horses were, when a party rode into the yard leading them. Two Little Confederates 79 " Hi ! there are Bill and John, now ! " ex- claimed the boys, recognizing the black carriage horses which were being led along. "Well, ef dee ain't got 'em, sho' 'nough!" exclaimed the old driver, forgetting his fear of the cocked pistols. " Gentlemen, marsters, don't teck my horses, ef you please ! " he pleaded, pushing through the group that surrounded him, and approaching the man who led the horses. They only laughed at him. Both the boys ran to their mother, and fling- ing their arms about her, burst out crying. In a few minutes the men started off, riding across the fields, and in a little while not a soldier was in sight. " I wish Marse William could see you ridin' 'cross them fields," said Balla, looking after the retiring troop in futile indignation. Investigation revealed the fact that every horse and mule on the plantation had been carried off, except only two or three old mules, which were evidently considered not worth taking. 8o The Page Story Book n THE TWO LITTLE CONFEDERATES* CAPTURE BY UNION SOLDIERS Hugh, the elder brother of the two little Con- federates, and his General were in concealment in the woods, hunted by Union raiders. Frank and Willy had been to carry them food, and were returning home. After crossing the gully, and walking on through the woods for what they thought a safe distance, they turned into the path. They were talking very merrily about the Gen- eral and Hugh, and their friend Mills, and were discussing some romantic plan for the recapture of their horses from the enemy, when they came out of the path into the road, and found them- selves within twenty yards of a group of Federal soldiers, quietly sitting on their horses, evidently guarding the road. The sight of the blue-coats made the boys jump. They would have crept back, but it was too late; they caught the eye of the man nearest them. They ceased talking as suddenly as birds in the trees stop chirruping when the hawk sails over; and when one Yankee called to them, in a stern tone, " Halt, there! " and started to come toward them, their hearts were in their mouths. Two Little Confederates 81 " Where are you boys going? " he asked as he came up to them. " Going home." " Where do you belong ? " " Over there, at Oakland," pointing in the di- rection of their home, which seemed suddenly to have moved a thousand miles away. " Where have you been? " The other soldiers had come up now. " Been down this way." The boys' voices were never so meek before. Each reply was like an apology. "Been to see your brother?" asked one who had not spoken before, a pleasant-looking fellow. The boys looked at him. They were paralyzed by dread of the approaching question. " Now, boys, we know where you have been," said a small fellow who wore a yellow chevron on his arm. He had a thin mustache and a sharp nose, and rode a wiry, dull sorrel horse. " You may just as well tell us all about it. We know you've been to see 'em, and we are going to make you carry us where they are." " No, we ain't," said Frank doggedly. Willy expressed his determination also. " If you don't, it's going to be pretty bad for you," said the little corporal. He gave an order to two of the men, who sprang from their horses, and catching Frank, swung him up behind an- 82 The Page Story Book other cavalryman. The boy's face was very pale, but he bit his lip. " Go ahead," continued the corporal to a num- ber of his men, who started down the path. " You four men remain here till we come back," he said to the men on the ground, and to two others on horseback. " Keep him here," jerking his thumb toward Willy, whose face was already burning with emotion. " I'm going with Frank/' said Willy. " Let me go." This to the man who had hold of him by the arm. " Frank, make him let me go! " he shouted, bursting into tears, and turning on his captor with all his little might. " Willy, he's not goin' to hurt you ; don't you tell," called Frank, squirming until he dug his heels so into the horse's flanks that the horse began to kick up. " Keep quiet, Johnny ; he's not goin r to hurt him," said one of the men kindly. He had a brown beard and shining white teeth. They rode slowly down the narrow path, the dragoon holding Frank by the leg. Deep down in the woods, beyond a small branch, the path forked. " Which way ? " asked the corporal, stopping and addressing Frank. Frank set his mouth tight and looked him in the eyes. ' The boy faced his captor, who held a strap in one hand. Two Little Confederates 83 " Which is it ? " the corporal repeated. " I ain't going to tell," said he firmly. " Look here, Johnny ; we've got you, and we are going to make you tell us ; so you might just as well do it, easy. If you don't, we're goin' to make you." The boy said nothing. " You men dismount. Stubbs, hold the horses." He himself dismounted, and three others did the same, giving their horses to a fourth. " Get down " this to Frank and the soldier behind whom he was riding. The soldier dis- mounted, and the boy slipped off after him and faced his captor, who held a strap in one hand. " Are you goin' to tell us ? " he asked. " No." " Don't you know ? " He came a step nearer, and held the strap forward. There was a long silence. The boy's face paled perceptibly, but took on a look as if the proceedings were indiffer- ent to him. "If you say you don't know " said the man, hesitating in face of the boy's resolution. " Don't you know where they are ? " " Yes, I know, but I ain't goin' to tell you," said Frank, bursting into tears. "The little Johnny's game," said the soldier who had told him the others were not going to 84 The Page Story Book hurt Willy. The corporal said something to this man in an undertone, to which he replied : " You can try, but it isn't going to do any good. I don't half like it, anyway." Frank had stopped crying after his first out- burst. " If you don't tell, we are going to shoot you," said the little soldier, drawing his pistol. The boy shut his mouth close, and looked straight at the corporal. The man laid down his pistol, and seizing Frank, drew his hands behind him and tied them. " Get ready, men," he said, as he drew the boy aside to a small tree, putting him with his back to it. Frank thought his hour had come. He thought of his mother and Willy, and wondered if the sol- diers would shoot Willy, too. His face twitched and grew ghastly white. Then he thought of his father, and of how proud he would be of his son's bravery when he should hear of it. This gave him strength. " The knot hurts my hands," he said. The man leaned over and eased it a little. " I wasn't crying because I was scared," said Frank. The kind-looking fellow turned away. " Now, boys, get ready," said the corporal, taking up his pistol. Two Little Confederates 85 How large it looked to Frank! He wondered where the bullets would hit him, and if the wounds would bleed, and whether he would be left alone all night out there in the woods, and if his mother would come and kiss him. " I want to say my prayers," he said faintly. The soldier made some reply which he could not hear, and the man with the beard started for- ward ; but just then all grew dark before his eyes. Next, he thought he must have been shot, for he felt wet about his face, and was lying down. He heard some one say, " He's coming to," and another replied, " Thank God ! " He opened his eyes. He was lying beside the little branch, with his head in the lap of the big soldier with the beard, and the little corporal was leaning over him throwing water in his face from a cap. The others were standing around. " What's the matter? " asked Frank. "That's all right," said the little corporal kindly. " We were just a-foolin' a bit with you, Johnny." " We never meant to hurt you," said the other. " You feel better now ? " " Yes ; where's Willy ? " He was too tired to move. " He's all right. We'll take you to him." " Am I shot? " asked Frank. " No ! Do you think we'd have touched a 86 Tfie Page Story Book hair of your head and you such a brave little fellow? We were just trying to scare you a bit, and carried it too far, and you got a little faint that's all." The voice was so kindly that Frank was en- couraged to sit up. "Can you walk now?" asked the corporal, helping him and steadying him as he rose to his feet. " I'll take him," said the big fellow, and be- fore the boy could move, he had stooped, taken Frank in his arms, and was carrying him back toward the place where they had left Willy, while the others followed after with the horses. " I can walk," said Frank. " No, I'll carry you, b-bless your heart ! " The boy did not know that the big dragoon was looking down at the light hair resting on his arm, and that while he trod the Virginia wood-path, in fancy he was home in Delaware; or that the pressure the boy felt from his strong arms, was a caress given for the sake of another boy far away on the Brandywine. A little while before they came in sight Frank asked to be put down. The soldier gently set him on his feet, and, before he let him go, kissed him. " I've got a curly-headed fellow at home, just the size of you," he said softly. Two Little Confederates 87 Frank saw that his eyes were moist. " I hope you'll get safe back to him," he said. " God grant it ! " said the soldier. When they reached the squad at the gate they found Willy still in much distress on Frank's ac- count; but he wiped his eyes when his brother reappeared, and listened with pride to the soldiers' praise of Frank's " grit," as they called it. When they let the boys go, the little corporal wished Frank to accept a five-dollar gold piece, but he politely declined it. "NANCY PANSY" ONE day, Tom Adams, a Union officer, sta- tioned in the Southern town of Middleburgh, left camp and sauntered up the street alone, planning how he could get his company ordered once more to the front. He could not stand this life any longer. As he strolled along the walk the sound of the cheerful voices of girls behind the mag- nolias and rose bowers came to him, and a wave of homesickness swept over him as he thought of his sisters and little nieces away up North. Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he saw a small figure walking slowly along before him ; the great straw hat on the back of her head almost con- cealed the little body, but her sunny hair was peeping down below the broad brim, and Adams knew the child. She carried under her arm an old cigar-box, out of one end of which peeped the head and shoulders of an old doll, the feet of which stuck out of the other end. A string hung from the box and trailed behind her on the pathway. She appeared to be very busy about something, and "Nancy Pansy" 89 to be perfectly happy, for as she walked along she was singing out of her content a wordless little song of her heart, " Tra-la-la, tra-la-la." The young officer fell into the same gait with the child, and instinctively trod softly to keep from disturbing her. Just then, however, a burly fellow named Griff O'Meara, who had belonged to one of the companies which preceded them, and had been transferred to Adams's company, came down a side street and turned into the walk- way just behind the little maid. He seemed to be tipsy. The trailing string caught his eye, and he tipped forward and tried to step on it. Adams did not take in what the fellow was trying to do until he attempted it the second time. Then he called to him, but it was too late; he had stepped on the cord, and jerked the box, doll and all, from the child's arm. The doll fell, face down, on a stone and broke to pieces. The man gave a great laugh, as the little girl turned, with a cry of anguish, and stooping, began to pick up the fragments, weeping in a low, pitiful way. In a second, Adams sprang forward and struck the fellow a blow between the eyes which sent him staggering off the sidewalk, down in the road, flat on his back. He rose with an oath, but Adams struck him a second blow which laid him out again, and the fellow, finding him to be an officer, was glad to slink off. Adams then turned 90 The Page Story Book to the child, whose tears, which had dried for a moment in her alarm at the fight, now began to flow again over her doll. " Her pretty head's all broke ! Oh oh oh ! " she sobbed, trying vainly to get the pieces to fit into something like a face. The young officer sat down on the ground by her. " Never mind, sissy," he said soothingly, " let me see if I can help you." She confidingly handed him the fragments, while she tried to stifle her sobs, and wiped her eyes with her little pinafore. " Can you do it ? " she asked dolefully behind her pinafore. " I hope so. What's you name? " " Nancy Pansy, and my dolly's named Harry." " Harry ! " Tom looked at the doll's dress and the fragments of face, which certainly were not masculine. " Yes, Harry Hunter. He's my sweetheart." She looked at him to see that he understood her. "Ah!" " And sister's," she nodded confidently. "Yes, I see. Where is he?" " He's a captain now. He's gone away away." She waved her hand in a wide sweep, to give an idea of the great distance it was. " He's in the army." " Come along with me," said Tom ; " let's see "Nancy Pansy" 91 what we can do." He gathered up all the broken pieces in his handkerchief, and set out in the direction from which he had come, Nancy Pansy at his side. She slipped her little hand confid- ingly into his. ;< You knocked that bad man down for me, didn't you ? " she said, looking up into his face. Tom had not felt until then what a hero he had been. ;< Yes," he said quite graciously. The little warm fingers worked themselves yet farther into his palm. At the corner they turned up the street toward the Court-house Square, and in a few minutes were in camp. At the sight of the child with Adams the whole camp turned out pell-mell, as if the " long-roll " had beat. At first Nancy Pansy was a little shy, there was so much excitement, and she clung tightly to Tom Adams's hand. She soon found, however, that they were all friendly. Tom conducted her to his tent, where she was placed in a great chair, with a horse-cover over it, as a sort of throne. The story of O'Meara's act excited so much indignation that Tom felt it necessary to explain fully the punishment he had given him. Nancy Pansy, feeling that she had an interest in the matter, suddenly took up the narrative. 92 The Page Story Book " Yes, he jus' knocked him down," she said with the most charming confidence, to her admir- ing audience, her pink cheeks glowing and her great eyes lighting up at the recital, as she illus- trated Tom's act with a most expressive gesture of her by no means clean little fist. The soldiers about her burst into a roar of de- lighted laughter, and made her tell them again and again how it was done, each time renewing their applause over the cute way in which she imitated Tom's act. Then they all insisted on being formally introduced. So Nancy Pansy was stood upon the table, and the men came by in line, one by one, and were presented to her. It was a regular levee. Presently she said she must go home, so she was taken down; but before she was allowed to leave, she was invited to go through the camp, each man insisting that she should visit his tent. She made, therefore, a complete tour, and in every tent some souvenir was pressed upon her, or she was begged to take her choice of its contents. Thus, before she had gone far, she had her arms full of things, and a string of men were following her bearing the articles she had honored them by accepting. There were little looking-glasses, pin- cushions, pairs of scissors, pictures, razors, bits of gold lace, cigar-holders, scarf-pins, and many other things. "Nancy Pansy" 93 When she left camp she was quite piled up with things, while Tom Adams, who acted as her escort, marched behind her with a large basketful besides. She did not have room to take Harry, so she left her behind, on the assurance of Tom that she should be mended, and on the engage- ment of the entire company to take care of her. The soldiers followed her to the edge of the camp, and exacted from her a promise to come again next day, which she agreed to do if her mother would let her. And when she was out of sight, the whole command held a council of war over the fragments of Harry. When Adams reached Judge Seddon's gate he made a negro who was passing take the basket in, thinking it better not to go himself up to the house. He said good-by, and Nancy Pansy started up the walk, while he waited at the gate. Suddenly she turned and came back. " Good-by ! " she said, standing on tiptoe, and putting up her little face to be kissed. The young officer stooped over the gate and kissed her. " Good-by ! Come again to-morrow." " Yes, if mamma will let me." And she tripped away with her armful of presents. Tom Adams remained leaning on the gate. He was thinking of his home far away. Sud- 94 The Page Story Book denly he was aroused by hearing the astonished exclamations in the house as Nancy Pansy en- tered. He felt sure that they were insisting that the things should be sent back, and fearing that he might be seen, he left the spot and went slowly back to camp, where he found the soldiers still in a state of pleasurable excitement over Nancy Pansy's visit. A collection was taken up for a purpose which appeared to interest everybody, and a cap nearly full of money was delivered to Tom Adams, with as many directions as to what he was to do with it as though it were to get a me- morial for the commander-in-chief. Tom said he had already determined to do the very same thing himself ; still, if the company wished to " go in " with him, they could do it; so he agreed to take the money. After this the Baby Veterans, as Tom's com- mand was nicknamed, and Middleburgh came to understand each other a good deal better than before. Instead of remaining in their camp or marching up and down the streets, with arrogance or defiance stamped on every face and speaking from every figure, the Baby Veterans took to loafing about town in off-duty hours, hanging over the gates, or sauntering in the autumn twi- light up and down the quiet walks. They and Middleburgh still recognized that there was a broad ground on which neither could trespass. "Nancy Pansy" 95 The Baby Veterans still sang " The Star-span- gled Banner " in the Court-house Grove, and Middleburgh still sang "Dixie " and the "Bonnie Blue Flag " behind her rose trellises ; but the rigid investment of the town relaxed a little as the au- tumn changed into winter, for Nancy Pansy's pretty sister used to get letters from Harry, who was now a major. Nancy Pansy heard whispers of Harry's coming before long, and even of the whole army's coming. Somehow a rumor of this must have reached the authorities, though Nancy Pansy never breathed a word of it ; for an officer was sent to investigate the matter and report immediately. Just as he arrived he received secret word from some one that a rebel officer was actually in Mid- dleburgh. That afternoon Nancy Pansy was playing in the bottom of the yard when a lot of soldiers came along the street, and before them rode a strange, cross-looking man with a beard. Tom Adams was marching with the soldiers, and he did not look at all pleased. They stopped at the old doctor's gate, and the strange man trotted up to her place and asked Nancy Pansy if she knew Captain Harry Hunter. " Yes, indeed," said Nancy Pansy, going up to the fence and poking her little rosy face over it; " Harry's a major now." 96 The Page Story Book "Ah, Harry's a major now, is he? " said the strange man. Nancy Pansy went on to tell him how her Harry was named after the other Harry, and how she was all broken now; but the officer was intent on something else. " Where is Harry now ? " he asked her. " In the house," and she waved her hand tow- ard the old doctor's house behind her. " So, so," said the officer, and went back to Tom Adams, who looked annoyed, and said: " I don't believe it ; there's some mistake." At this the strange man got angry, and said: " Lieutenant Adams, if you don't want the rebel caught, you can go back to camp." My, how angry Tom was! His face got per- fectly white, and he said : " Major Black, you are my superior, or you wouldn't dare to speak so to me. I have nothing to say now, but some day I'll outrank you." Nancy Pansy did not know what they were talking about, but she did not like the strange man at all ; so when he asked her, " Won't you show me where Harry is ? " at first she said " No," and then " Yes, if you won't hurt him." " No, indeed," said the man. As Tom Adams was there she was not afraid ; so she went outside the gate and on into the old doctor's yard, followed by the soldiers and Tom "Nancy Pansy" 97 Adams, who still looked angry, and told her she'd better run home. Some of the soldiers went around behind the house. "Where is he?" the strange gentleman asked. " Asleep upstairs in the company-room," said Nancy Pansy in a whisper. " You mustn't make any noise." She opened the door, and they entered the house, Nancy Pansy on tiptoe and the others step- ping softly. She was surprised to see the strange man draw a pistol; but she was used to seeing pistols, so, though Tom Adams told her again to run home, she stayed there. "Which is the company-room?" asked the strange man. She pointed to the door at the head of the steps. " That's it." He turned to the soldiers. " Come ahead, men," he said in a low voice, and ran lightly up the stairs, looking very fierce. When he reached the door he seized the knob and dashed into the room. Then Nancy Pansy heard him say some naughty words, and she ran up the stairs to see what was the matter. They were all standing around the big bed on which she had laid Harry an hour before, with her head on a pillow ; but a jerk of the counter- 98 The Page Story Book pane had thrown Harry over on her face, and her broken neck and ear looked very bad. " Oh, you've waked her up ! " cried Nancy Pansy, rushing forward and turning the doll over. The strange man stamped out of the room, looking perfectly furious, and the soldiers all laughed. Tom Adams looked pleased. n One morning all Middleburgh was astonished by the news that old Dr. Hunter had been ar- rested in the night by the soldiers who had come down from Washington, and had been carried off somewhere. There had not been such excitement since the Middleburgh Artillery had marched away to the war. The old doctor was sacred. Why, to carry him off, and stop his old buggy rattling about the streets, was, in Middleburgh's eyes, like stopping the chariot of the sun, or turn- ing the stars out of their courses. " Why did they not arrest Nancy Pansy too ? " asked Mid- dleburgh. Nancy Pansy cried all day, and many times after, whenever she thought about it. She went to Tom Adams's camp and begged him to bring her old doctor back ; and Tom Adams said as he had not had him arrested he could not tell what he could do, but he would do all he could. "Nancy Pansy" 99 Then she wrote the old doctor a letter. However, all Middleburgh would not accept Tom Adams's statement as Nancy Pansy did, and instead of holding him as a favorite, it used to speak of him as " That Tom Adams." Every old woman in Middleburgh declared she was worse than she had been in ten years, and old Mrs. Hippin took to her crutch, which she had not used in twelve months, and told Nancy Pansy's sister she would die in a week unless she could hear the old doctor's buggy rattle again. But when the fever broke out in the little low houses down on the river, things began to look very serious. The surgeon from the camp went to see the patients, but they died, and more were taken ill. When a number of other cases occurred in the town itself, all of the most malignant type, the surgeon admitted that it was a form of fever with which he was not familiar. There had never been such an epidemic in Middleburgh before, and Mid- dleburgh said that it was all due to the old doctor's absence. One day Nancy Pansy went to the camp to ask about the old doctor, and saw a man sitting astride of a fence rail which was laid on two posts high up from the ground. He had a stone tied to each foot, and he was groaning. She looked up at him, and saw that it was the man who had broken her doll. She was about to run away, but loo The Page Story Book he groaned so, she thought he must be in great pain, and that always hurt her; so she went closer, and asked him what was the matter. She did not understand just what he said, but it was something about the weight on his feet; so she first tried to untie the strings which held the stones, and then, as there was a barrel standing by, she pushed at it until she got it up close under him, and told him to rest his feet on that, while she ran home and asked her mamma to lend her her scissors. In pushing the barrel she broke Harry's head in pieces ; but she was so busy she did not mind it then. Just as she got the barrel in place some one called her, and, turning around, she saw a sentinel. He told her to go away, and he kicked the barrel from under the man and let the stones drop down and jerk his ankles again. Nancy Pansy began to cry, and ran off up to Tom Adams's tent and told him all about it, and how the poor man was groaning. Tom Adams tried to explain that this man had got drunk, and that he was a bad man, and was the same one who had broken her doll. It had no effect. " Oh, but it hurts him so bad ! " said Nancy Pansy, and she cried until Tom Adams called a man and told him he might go and let O'Meara down, and tell him that the little girl had begged him off this time. Nancy Pansy, however, ran herself, and called to him that Tom Adams said he might "Nancy Pansy' 1 101 get down. When he was on the ground, he walked up to her, and said : " May the Holy Virgin kape you ! Griff O'Meara'll never forgit you." A few days after that Nancy Pansy complained of headache, and her mother kept her in the house. That evening her face was flushed, and she had a fever ; so her mother put her to bed and sat by her. She went to sleep, but waked in the night, talking very fast. She had a burning fever, and was quite out of her head. Mrs. Seddon sent for the surgeon next morning, and he came and stayed some time. When he returned to camp he went to Tom Adams's tent. He looked so grave as he came in that Adams asked quickly : " Any fresh cases ? " " Not in camp." He sat down. "Where?" " That little girl Nancy Pansy." Tom Adams's face turned whiter than it had ever turned in battle. "Is she ill?" " Desperately." Tom Adams sprang to his feet. " How long how long can she hold out? " he asked, in a broken voice. " Twenty-four hours, perhaps," said the sur- geon. Tom Adams put on his cap and left the tent IO2 The Page Story Book Five minutes later he was in the hall at the Judge's. Just as he entered, Nancy Pansy's sis- ter came quickly out of a door. She had been crying. " How is she? I have just this instant heard of it," said Tom, with real grief in his voice. She put her handkerchief to her eyes. " So ill," she sobbed. " Can I see her ? " asked Tom gently. " " Yes ; it won't hurt her." When Tom Adams entered the room he was so shocked that he stopped still. Mrs. Seddon bent over the bed with her face pale and worn, and in the bed lay Nancy Pansy, so changed that Tom Adams never would have known her. She had fallen off so in that short time that he would not have recognized her. Her face was perfectly white, except two bright red spots on her cheeks. She was drawing short, quick breaths, and was talking very fast all the time. No one could understand just what she was saying, but a good deal of it was about Harry and the old doctor. Tom bent over her, but she did not know him; she just went on talking faster than ever. "Nancy Pansy, don't you know Tom Adams?" her mother asked her, in a soothing voice. She had never called the young man so before, and he felt that it gave him a place with Nancy Pansy. "Nancy Pansy" 103 But the child did not know him; she said some- thing about not having any Harry. " She is growing weaker," said her mother. Tom Adams leaned over and kissed the child, and left the room. As he came down the steps he met Griff O'Meara, who asked how the " little gurl " was, "bless her sowl!" When he told him, Griff turned away and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Tom Adams told him to stay there and act as guard, which Griff vowed he'd do if the " howl ribel army kem." Ten minutes later Tom galloped out of camp with a paper in his pocket signed by the surgeon. In an hour he had covered the twelve miles of mud which lay between Middleburgh and the nearest telegraph station, and was sending a mes- sage to General , his commander. At last an answer came. Tom Adams read it. " Tell him it is a matter of life and death," he said to the operator. " Tell him there is no one else who understands it and can check it, and tell him it must be done before the afternoon train leaves, or it will be too late. Here, I'll write it out." And he did so, putting all his eloquence into the despatch. Late that night two men galloped through the mud and slush in the direction of Middleburgh. The younger one had a large box before him on IO4 The Page Story Book his horse ; the other was quite an old man. Picket after picket was passed with a word spoken by the younger man, and they galloped on. At last they stopped at the Judge's gate, and sprang from their splashed and smoking horses. As they hurried up the walk, the guard at the steps challenged them in a rich Irish brogue. " It's I, O'Meara. You here still ? How is she?" " 'Most in the Holy Virgin's arms," said the Irishman. " Is she alive ? " asked both men. " It's a docther can tell that," said the sentinel. " They thought her gone an hour ago. There's several in there," he said to his captain. " I didn't let 'em in at firrst, but the young leddy said they wuz the frien's of the little gurl, an' I let 'em by a bit." A minute later the old man entered the sick- room, while Tom Adams stopped at the door out- side. There was a general cry, as he entered, "Oh, doctor!" And Mrs. Seddon called him : " Quick, quick, doctor ! she's dying ! " " She's dead," said one of the ladies who stood by. The old doctor bent over the little still white form, and his countenance fell. She was not breathing. With one hand he picked up her little " Nancy Pansy " 105 white arm and felt for the pulse; with the other he took a small case from his pocket. " Brandy," he said It was quickly handed him. He poured some into a little syringe, and stuck it into Nancy Pansy's arm, by turns holding her wrist and feel- ing over her heart. Presently he said quietly/" She's living," and both Mrs. Seddon and Nancy Pansy's sister said, "Thank God!" All night long the old doctor worked over Nancy Pansy. Just before dawn he said to Mrs. Seddon, "What day is this?" " Christmas morning," said Mrs. Seddon. " Well, madam, I hope God has answered your prayers, and given your babe back to you ; I hope the crisis is passed. Have you hung up her stocking? " " No," said Nancy Pansy's mother. " She was so " She could not say anything more. Presently she added, " She was all the time talk- ing about you and Harry." The old doctor rose and went out of the room. It was about dawn. He left the house and went over to his own home. There after some diffi- culty, he got in, and went to his office. His old secretary had been opened and papers taken out, but the old man did not seem to mind it. Pulling the secretary out from the wall, he touched a secret spring. It did not work at first, but after io6 The Page Story Book a while it moved, and he put his hand under it and pulled out a secret drawer. In it were a number of small parcels carefully tied up with pieces of ribbon, which were now quite faded, and from one peeped a curl of soft brown hair, like that of a little girl. The old doctor laid his fingers softly on it, and his old face wore a gentle look. The largest bundle was wrapped in oil- silk. This he took out and carefully unwrapped. Inside was yet another wrapping of tissue paper. He put the bundle, with a sigh, into his overcoat pocket, and went slowly back to the Judge's. Nancy Pansy was still sleeping quietly. The old doctor asked for a stocking, and it was brought him. He took the bundle from his pocket, and, unwrapping it, held it up. It was a beautiful doll, with yellow hair done up with little tucking combs such as ladies used to wear, and with a lovely little old tiny-flowered silk dress. ^ " She is thirty years old, madam," he said gently to Mrs. Seddon, as he slipped the doll into the stocking and hung it on the bed-post. " I have kept her for thirty years, thinking I could never give it to any one; but last night I knew I loved Nancy Pansy enough to give it to her." He leaned over and felt her pulse. " She is sleep- ing well," he said. Just then the door opened, and in tripped Tom "Nancy Pansy" 107 Adams, followed by Griff O'Meara in his stock- ing feet, bearing a large baby-house fitted up like a perfect palace, with every room carpeted and furnished, and with a splendid doll sitting on a balcony. " A Christmas gift to that blessed angel, from the Baby Veterans, mem," he said, as he set it down; and then taking from his bulging pocket a large red-cheeked doll in a green frock, he placed it in the door of the house, saying, with great pride : " An' this from Griff O'Meara. Heaven bless her swate sowl ! " Just then Nancy Pansy stirred, and opened her eyes. Her mother bent over her, and she smiled faintly. Mrs. Seddon slipped down on her knees. " Where's my old doctor, and my dolly ? " she said ; and then, presently, " Where's Harry, and Tom Adams ? " THE CHRISTMAS PEACE GENERAL HAMPDEN and Colonel Drayton were old men and enemies. They had been enemies for many years, "heir fathers and grandfathers had been enemies. Indeed, a feud, dating from the settlement in colonial days of adjoining plantations, had existed between the Hampdens and the Draytons. As boys, General Hampden and Colonel Dray- ton had been fast friends. Born in the same month, they played together and went to school together; at college they were inseparable com- panions. It looked for a time as though the long- standing feud between the families might be ended. But troubles and misunderstandings arose. There was a lawsuit over a boundary line be- tween the plantations, which Colonel Drayton lost. There was rivalry for the hand of the pret- tiest girl in all the region, which Colonel Dray- ton won. There was difference of opinion and a bitter controversy over slavery and secession. 108 The Christmas Peace 109 General Hampden had an only son, Oliver. Colonel Drayton had an only daughter, Lucy. Oliver and Lucy, unmindful of the family feud, fell in love with each other. With difficulty Oli- ver had obtained his father's consent to ask Colonel Drayton for his daughter in marriage. The Colonel refused the young man's request, although he could not prevent his daughter pledg- ing herself to marry no one else. When Oliver told his father of the failure of his suit, General Hampden's rage knew no bounds. He threatened to ride straight to Dray- ton's house and horsewhip him on the spot. " I hope you are satisfied/' he said sternly. " I make but one request of you : that from this time forth you will never mention the name of Drayton to me again as long as you live." The Civil War had broken out, and General Hampden and his son were among the first to enlist. Colonel Drayton, though opposed to se- cession, volunteered after his State had seceded. His daughter went to the army hospitals as nurse. Young Hampden, who had risen to the rank of captain, was dangerously wounded. By chance he fell to the care of Lucy Drayton, who nursed him back to life. When he had sufficiently re- covered they were married, Lucy having first ob- tained her father's consent. But Oliver, remem- bering his father's bitterness, did not inform him HO The Page Story Book of his proposed marriage. In this he made a mistake, for his father was mortally offended. Still an invalid, Oliver Hampden went South with his bride. There he died suddenly, too sud- denly for his wife to warn the father. She wrote to General Hampden, however, informing him of his son's death, but by some evil chance the letter never reached its destination; and it was some weeks later when, by accident, the General learned of Oliver's death. This was a terrible blow to him, for he had just decided to make friends with his son. He naturally blamed the young wife that he was not informed of Oliver's illness and death. Thus it happened that when her son was born, Lucy Hampden made no announcement of his birth to the General, and he remained in igno- rance of it. When the war closed, General Hampden, soured and embittered by his domestic troubles, devoted all his energies to building up a new for- tune. In this he was very successful. Colonel Drayton, however, never practical, was unable to adapt himself to the changed conditions. What- ever he attempted, failed. At last his plantation, heavily mortgaged, had to be sold. General Hampden bought it. Colonel Drayton went South to live with his daughter, who was supporting herself and child The Christmas Peace 1 1 1 by teaching-. The Colonel and his grandchild be- came most intimate companions. Meantime General Hampden's health gave way. His doctor ordered him to take a rest to go South for the winter. The General thought over the doctor's advice and finally followed it, though not for the reason the physician supposed. Something led him to select the place where his son had gone, and where his body lay amid the magnolias. If he was going to die, he would carry out a plan which he had formed in the lonely hours when he lay awake between the strokes of the clock. He would go and see that his son's grave was cared for, and, if he could, would bring him back home at last. Doubtless " that woman's " consent could be bought. She had possibly married again. He hoped she had. II Christmas is always the saddest of seasons to a lonely man, and General Hampden, when he landed in that old Southern town on the after- noon of Christmas Eve, would not have been lonelier in a desert. The signs of Christmas preparation and the sounds of Christmas cheer but made him lonelier. 112 The Page Story Book As soon as the old fellow had got settled in his room at the hotel he paid a visit to his son's grave, piloted to the cemetery by a friendly and garru- lous old negro hackman, who talked much about Christmas and " the holidays." " Yes, suh, dat he had known Cap'n Ham'n. He used to drive him out long as he could drive out. He had been at his funeral. He knew Mrs. Ham'n, too. She sutney is a fine lady," he wound up in sincere eulogy. The General gave a grunt. He was nearer to his son than he had ever been since the day he last saw him in all the pride and beauty of a gallant young soldier. The grave, at least, was not neglected. It was marked by a modest cross, on which were the Hampden coat-of-arms and the motto " Loyal" and it was banked in fresh evergreens, and some flowers had been placed on it only that afternoon. It set the General to thinking. When he returned to his hotel he found the loneliness unbearable. His visit to his son's grave had opened the old wound and awakened all his memories. He knew now that he had ruined his life. He had no care to live longer. He would return to work, and die in harness. He sent his servant to the office and arranged for his car to be put on the first train next morn- ing. Then, to escape from his thoughts, he The Christmas Peace 113 strolled out in the street, where the shopping crowds streamed along, old and young, poor and well-to-do, their arms full of bundles, their faces ' eager, and their eyes alight. General Hampden seemed to himself to be walking among ghosts. As he stalked on, bitter and lonely, he was suddenly run into by a very little boy, in whose small arms was so big a bundle that he could scarcely see over it. The shock of the collision knocked the little fellow down, sit- ting flat on the pavement, still clutching his bundle. But his face, after the first shadow of surprise, lit up again. " I beg your pardon, sir ; that was my fault," he said, with so quaint an imitation of an old person that the General could not help smiling. With a cheery laugh he tried to rise to his feet, but the bundle was too heavy, and he would not let it go. The General bent over him, and, with an apol- ogy, set him on his feet. " I beg your pardon, sir. That was my fault. That is a pretty big bundle you have." " Yes, sir ; and, I tell you, it is pretty heavy, too," the manikin said proudly. " It's a Christ- mas gift." He started on, and the General turned with him. "A Christmas gift! It must be a fine one. U4 The Page Story Book Who gave it to you ? " demanded the Gen- eral, with a smile at the little fellow's confi- dence. " It is a fine one! Didn't anybody give it to me. We're giving it to somebody." " Oh, you are I To whom ? " " I'll tell you, but you must promise not to tell." " I promise I will not tell a soul. I cross my heart." He made a sign, as he remembered he used to do in his boyhood. The boy looked up at him doubtfully with a shade of disapproval. " My grandfather says that you must not cross your heart ; 't a gentleman's word is enough," he said quaintly. " Oh, he does ? Well, I give my word." " Well " He glanced around to see that no one was listening, and sidling a little nearer, lowered his voice : " It's a great-coat for grand- father!" " A great-coat ! That's famous ! " exclaimed the General. " Yes, isn't it ? You see, he's mighty old, and he's got a bad cough he caught it in the army and I have to take care of him. Don't you think that's right?" "Of course I do," said the General, envying one grandfather. The Christmas Peace 115 " That's what I tell him. So mamma and I have bought this for him." " He must be a proud grandfather," said the General, with envy biting deeper at his heart. " I have another grandfather, but I don't like him" continued the little fellow. " I am sorry for that," said the General sin- cerely. "Why is that?" " He was mean to my father, and he is mean to my mother." His voice conveyed a sudden bit- terness. "Oh!" " Mamma says I must like him ; but I do not. I just can't. You would not like a man who was mean to your mother, would you ? " " I would not," declared the General truth- fully. " And I am not going to like him," asserted the boy with firmness. The General suddenly pitied one grandfather. They had come to a well-lighted corner, and as the boy lifted his face, the light fell on it. Something about the bright, sturdy countenance, with its frank, dark eyes and brown hair, sud- denly sent the General back thirty years to a strip of meadow on which two children were playing, one a dark-eyed boy as sturdy as this one. It was like an arrow in his heart. With a gasp he 1 1 6 The Page Story Book came back to the present. His thoughts pursued him even here. " What is your name? " he asked, as he was feeling in his pocket for a coin. " Oliver Drayton Hampden, sir." The words were perfectly clear. The General's heart stopped beating, and then gave a bound. The skies suddenly opened for him, and then shut up again. His exclamation brought the child to a stop, and he glanced up at him in vague wonder. The General stooped and gazed at him searchingly, almost fiercely. The next second he had pounced upon him and lifted him in his arms, while the bundle fell to the pavement. " My boy, I am your grandfather ! " he cried, kissing him violently. " I am your grandfather Hampden/' The child was lost in amazement for a moment, and then, putting his hands against the General's face, he pushed him slowly away. " Put me down, please," he said, with that gravity which in a child means so much. General Hampden set him down on the pave- ment. The boy looked at him searchingly for a second, and then turned in silence and lifted his bundle. The General's face wore a puzzled look ; he had solved many problems, but he had never had one more difficult than this. His heart The Christmas Peace 117 yearned toward the child, and he knew that on his own wisdom at that moment might depend his future happiness, that on his next words might hang for him life or death. The expression on the boy's face, and the very set of his little back as he sturdily tugged at his burden, recalled his father, and with it the General recognized the obstinacy which he knew lurked in the Hampden blood, which had once been his pride. " Oliver," he said gravely, leaning down over the boy and putting his hand on him gently, " there has been a great mistake. I am going home with you to your mother and tell her so. I want to see her, and your grandfather, and I think I can explain everything." The child turned and gazed at him seriously, and then his face relaxed. He recognized his deep sincerity. " All right." He turned and walked down the street, bending under his burden. The General offered to carry it for him, but he declined. " I can carry it," was the only answer he made, except once, when, as the General rather insisted, he said firmly, " I want to carry it myself," and tottered on. A silence fell on them for a moment. A young man passing them spoke to the child cheerily. "Halloo, Oliver! A Christmas present? n8 The Page Story Book That's a great boy," he said in sheer friendliness to the General, and passed on. The boy was evidently well known. Oliver nodded; then, feeling that some civility was due on his part to his companion, he said briefly, " That's a friend of mine." " Evidently." The General, even in his perplexity, smiled at the quaint way the child imitated the manners of older men. Just then they came to a little gate, and the boy's manner changed. " If you will wait, I will run around and put my bundle down. I am afraid my grandfather might see it." He lowered his voice for the first time since the General had introduced himself. Then he disappeared around the house. Oliver, having slipped in at the back door and carefully reconnoitred the premises, tripped up- stairs with his bundle to his mother's room. He was so excited over his present that he failed to observe her confusion at his sudden entrance, or her hasty hiding away of something on which she was working. Colonel Drayton was not the only member of that household that Christmas who was to receive a great-coat. When Oliver had untied his bundle, nothing would serve but he must put on the coat to show his mother how his grandfather would look in it. The Christmas Peace 119 As even with the sleeves rolled up, and with his arms held out to keep it from falling off him, the tails dragged for some distance on the floor, and only the top of his head was visible above the collar, the resemblance was possibly not wholly exact. But it appeared to satisfy the boy. He was showing how his grandfather walked, when he suddenly recalled his new acquaintance. " I met my other grandfather on the street, mamma, and he came home with me." He spoke quite naturally. " Met your other grandfather! " Mrs. Hamp- den looked mystified. " He says he is my grandfather, and he looks like papa. I reckon he's my other grandfather. He ran against me in the street and knocked me down, and then came home with me/' " Came home with you ! " repeated Mrs. Hamp- den, still in a maze, and with a vague trouble dawning in her face. " Yes'm." Oliver went over the meeting again. His mother's face meantime showed the tumult of emotion that was sweeping over her. Why had General Hampden come? What had he come for ? To try and take her boy from her ? At the thought, her face and form took on something of the lioness that guards her whelp. Then, as the little boy repeated what his grand- I2O The Page Story Book father had said of his reason for coming home with him, her face softened again. " Oliver," she said, " you must go down and let him in. Say I will come down." " I will not like him," said the child, his eyes on her face. " Oh, yes, you must ; he is your grandfather." " You do not love him, and I will not." The sturdy little figure, and the serious face with the chin already firm for such a child, the dark, grave eyes, and the determined speech, were so like his father that the widow gave half a cry. " You must, my son, and I will try. Your father would wish it." The little boy pondered for a second. " Very well, mamma ; but he must be good to you." As the little fellow left the room the widow threw herself on her knees. in As General Hampden stood and waited in the dusk, he felt that his whole life and future de- pended on the issue of the next few moments. He determined to take matters in his own hand. Every moment might tell against him, and might decide his fate. So, without waiting longer, he The Christmas Peace 121 rang the bell. A minute later he heard steps within, and the door was opened by one who he knew must be Colonel Drayton, though had he met him elsewhere he should not have recognized the white hair and the thin, bent form as that of his old friend and enemy. Colonel Drayton had evidently not seen his grandson yet, for he spoke as to a stranger. "Will you not walk in, sir?" he said cor- dially. " I was expecting my little grandson, who went out a short while ago." He peered up the street. " Did you wish to see my daughter ? You will find us in a little confusion. Christmas time is always a busy season with us on account of our young man, my grandson," He lingered with pride over the words. The General stepped into the light. " Wilmer Drayton, don't you know me? I am Oliver Hampden, and I have come to apolo- gize to you for all I have done which has of- fended you, and to ask you to be friends with me." He held out his hand. The old Colonel stepped back, and under the shock of surprise paused for a moment " Oliver Hampden ! " The next moment he stepped forward and took his hand. " Come in, Oliver," he said gently, and putting his other arm around the General's shoulder, he handed him into the little cosey, fire-lighted room, 122 The Page Story Book as though nothing had happened since he had done the same the last time fifty years before. At this moment the door opened, and the little boy entered with mingled mysteriousness and im- portance. Seeing the two gentlemen standing together, he paused with a mystified look in his wide-open eyes, trying to comprehend the situation. " Oliver, come here," said the Colonel quietly. " This is your other grandfather." The boy came forward, and wheeling, stood close beside the Colonel, facing General Hamp- den, like a soldier dressing by his file-closer. " You are my grandfather," he said, glancing up at the Colonel. The Colonel's eyes glowed with a soft light. " Yes, my boy ; and so is he. We are friends again, and you must love him just as you do me." " I will not love him as much," was the sturdy answer. It was the General who spoke next. " That is right, my boy. All I ask is that you will love me some." He was pleading with this young commissioner. " I will, if you are good to my mother." His eyes were fastened on him without a tremor, and the General's deep-set eyes began to glow with hope. The Christmas Peace 123 " That's a bargain," he said, holding out his hand. The boy took it gravely. Just then the door opened, and Lucy Hampden entered. Her face was calm and her form was straight Her eyes, deep and burning, showed that she was prepared either for peace or war. It was well for the General that he had chosen peace. Better otherwise had he charged once more the deadliest battle line he had ever faced. With a woman's instinct the young widow comprehended at the first glance what had taken place, and although her face was white, her eyes softened as she advanced. The General had turned and faced her. He could not utter a word, but the boy sprang toward her, and wheeling, stood by her side. Taking his hand, she led him forward. " Oliver," she said gently, " this is your father's father." Then to the General, in a dead silence, " Father, this is your son's son." The General clasped them both in his arms. " Forgive me ! Forgive me ! I have prayed for his forgiveness, for I can never forgive my- self." " He forgave you," said the widow simply. 124 The Page Story Book IV No young king was ever put to bed with more ceremony or more devotion than was that little boy that night. Two old gentlemen were his grooms of the bedchamber and saw him to bed together. The talk was all of Christmas, and the General envied the ease with which the other grandfather carried on the conversation. But when the boy, having kissed his grandfather, said of his own accord, " Now I must kiss my other grandfather," he envied no man on earth. The next morning when Oliver Hampden, be- fore the first peep of light, waked in his little bed, which stood at the foot of his grandfather's bed in the tiny room which they occupied together, and standing up, peeped over the foot-board to catch his grandfather " Christmas gift," he was surprised to find that the bed was empty and un- disturbed. Then, having tiptoed in and caught his mother, he stole down the stairs and softly opened the sitting-room door, where he heard the murmur of voices. The fire was burning dim, and on either side sat the two old gentlemen in their easy chairs, talking amicably and earnestly as they had been talking when he kissed them " good-night." Neither one had made the sug- The Christmas Peace 125 gestion that it was bedtime ; but when at the first break of day the rosy boy in his night-clothes burst in upon them with his shout of " Christmas gift," and his ringing laughter, they both knew that the long feud was at last ended, and peace was established forever. THE END UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. tu. FormL9 15m-10,'48(B1039)444 GALH^GRNIA ;y^ LIBRARY UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY