"You are serious to-day, Miss Jennie?"
"Yes. I wish I were a man!"
"You'd go to the front, of course?"
"Yes--wouldn't you?"
"For _my_ country--yes--"
He paused a moment and went on carelessly:
"Your older brother, the Judge, will fight for the Union?"
The sensitive lips trembled.
"No--thank God. He has sent my mother word that for her sake and mine
he'll not fight his father and younger brothers in battle. He's going to
do a braver thing than march to the front. He's going to face his
neighbors in New Orleans and stand squarely by his principles."
"It will take a brave man to do that, won't it?"
"The bravest of the brave."
The train was just pulling into a sleepy Southern town, the tracks
running straight down the center of its main street. A company was drawn
up to salute the new President and cheering thousands had poured in from
the surrounding country to do him honor. They cheered themselves hoarse
and were still at it when the train slowly started northward. The
company which greeted their arrival with arms presented were on board
now, chatting, shouting, singing, waving their caps and handkerchiefs to
tear-stained women.
The country through which the Presidential party passed had been
suddenly transformed into a vast military camp, the whole population war
mad.
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