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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Victim A romance of the Real Jefferson Davis"

They had come ashore as friendly sightseers and stood
admiring the beauty of the quaint old town. Jennie's eyes filled with
tears of vexation.
"Let's go home, Mattie--"
"I say so, too--"
"Never again for me! I'll hang my flag on the mantel. I'll not try to
wave it in the face of a gentleman again--oof--what silly fools we
were!"
The Federal commander of the fleet had warned the citizens of Baton
Rouge that any hostile demonstration against his ships or men would mean
the instant bombardment of the town.
Jennie had just finished breakfast and helped her grandmother to find
her way to the rocker. Mandy had been sent to the store for some thread
with which to make a new uniform for one of the boys. Jennie resolved to
turn her energies to practical account now. No more flaunting of tiny
flags in the faces of brave, dignified young officers of the navy.
The maid rushed through the hall wild with excitement. She had run every
step back from the store without the thread.
"Lowdy, Miss Jennie," she gasped, "sumfin' awful happened!"
"What is it? What's the matter?"
Mandy stood in dumb terror, the whites of her eyes shining. She was
listening apparently for the arch-angel's trumpet to sound.
Jennie seized her shoulders.


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