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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Victim A romance of the Real Jefferson Davis"

In
the spacious grounds which swept to the water's edge more than a
thousand magnificent trees spread their cooling shade. The white rays of
the Southern sun shot through them like silver threads and glowed here
and there in the changing, shimmering splotches on the ground.
And everywhere the grinning faces of slowly moving negroes. The very
rhythm of their lazy walk seemed a part of the landscape.
This fairy world belonged to his country. His heart went out in renewed
devotion. Not one shining Southern star should ever be torn from her
diadem! He swore it.
For three days he bathed in the beauty and joy of a Southern home. He
saw but little of Jennie. The boys absorbed him. They were eager for
news. They plied him with a thousand questions. Tom was going to join
the navy, Jimmie and Billy the army.
"Would the United States Army stand by the old flag?" Tom asked with
painful eagerness.
Socola was non-committal.
"As a rule the sailor is loyal to the flag of his ship. It's the symbol
of home, of country, of all he holds dear."
"That's so, too," Tom answered thoughtfully. "Well, we'll build a navy.
We built the old one. We can build a new one!"
The last night he spent at Fairview was one never to be forgotten.


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