Only with her hungry eyes did she follow
their track to the shore. Her mate was there.
The baby clapped his hands and caught the rhythm of the throb and roar
of the cannon in his little voice:
"Boom!--Boom!"
The sun rose from the sea, a ball of dull red fire glowing ominously
through the haze of smoke that hung in the sky.
Hour after hour the guns pealed, the windows rattled and the earth
trembled.
Couriers were dashing into the city with reports from the batteries.
Soldiers were marching through the streets. It was reported that the men
from the fleet would attempt a landing.
The women rushed to the little iron balcony and watched the troops
marching to repel them.
In the first line Jennie saw the tall figure of Dick Welford. He glanced
upward, lifted his cap and held it steadily in his hand for four blocks
until they turned and swept out of sight.
Jennie was leaning on the rail with tear-dimmed eyes.
"I wonder why that soldier took his hat off?" her aunt asked.
"Yes--I wonder!" was the soft answer.
By three o'clock it was known that not a man had been killed at either
of the shore batteries and women began to smile and breathe once more.
The newsboys were screaming an extra.
Jennie hurried into the street and bought one.
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