In big black headlines she read:
RICHMOND AND WASHINGTON ABLAZE WITH EXCITEMENT!
THE NORTH WILD WITH RAGE
VIRGINIA AND NORTH CAROLINA ARMING TO COME TO OUR RESCUE!
She walked rapidly to the water's edge to get the latest news from the
front. A tiny rowboat was deliberately pulling through the harbor
squarely under the guns of Sumter. She watched it with amazement,
looking each moment to see it disappear beneath the waves. It was
probably her foolish father.
With steady, even stroke the boatman pulled for the shore as unconcerned
as if he were listening to the rattle of firecrackers on the fourth of
July.
To her surprise it proved to be a negro. He tied his boat and
deliberately unloaded his supply of vegetables. His stolid, sphinx-like
face showed neither fear nor interest.
"Weren't you afraid of Anderson's cannon, uncle?" Jennie asked.
"Nobum--nobum--"
"You might have been blown to pieces--"
"Nobum--Marse Anderson daresn't hit me!"
"Why not?"
"He knows my marster don't 'low nuttin like dat--I'se too val'eble er
nigger. Nobum, dey ain't none ob 'em gwine ter pester me, an' I ain't
gwine ter meddle wid dem--dey kin des fight hit out twixt 'em--"
Through the long night the steady boom of cannon, and the scream of
shells from the shore.
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