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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Victim A romance of the Real Jefferson Davis"


"When did they begin firin'?"
"Just after breakfast."
Yesterday she would have resented the familiar tones in which this
uncouth illiterate countryman spoke without the formality of an
introduction. In this hour of common peril he was a Knight entering the
lists wearing her colors.
He didn't mince words in expressing his opinions.
"It's your own fault if you've saved nothing. The people in Baton Rouge
must have been damned fools not to know trouble wuz comin' with them
gunboats lyin' thar with their big-mouthed cannon gapin' right into the
streets. If the men had had any sense women wouldn't a been drove into
the woods like this--"
"But they had no warning. They began to shell us without a minute's
notice--"
His rough fist closed and his heavy jaw came together with a grinding
sound.
"Waal, you're ruined--so am I--and my brothers and all our people, too.
There's nothin' left now except to die--and I'll do it!"
The girl clapped her hands.
"I wish I could go with you!"
He turned back toward his camp fire with a shake of his unkempt head.
"Die fighting for us!" Jennie cried.
He waved his black powder-stained hand:
"That I will, little girl!"
The rough figure rose in the unconscious dignity with which he waved his
arm and pledged his word to fight to the death.


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