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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Victim A romance of the Real Jefferson Davis"

His
troubles for the moment had only begun. The returned prisoners had
marched in a body to his office to thank their Chief for his sympathy
and help and asked him to say something to them.
Jennie paused and stared in a dazed way into the poor shrunken faces.
When the President appeared every ragged hat was in the air and they
cheered with all the might of the strength that was left in them. The
girl burst into tears. These men, so forlorn, so dried up with a
strange, half-animal, hunted look in their eyes--others restless and
wild-looking--others calmly vacant in their stare as if they had been
dead for years!
A poor mother was rushing in and out among them hunting for her son.
"He was coming with you boys, you know!" she cried.
She stopped suddenly and laughed at her own anxiety and confusion.
"He's here somewhere--I just can't find him--help me, men!"
She hadn't spoken his name, in her eager search for his loved face. She
kept lifting the cloth from a basket of provisions which she had cooked
that morning.
"I've got his breakfast here--poor boy--I expect he's hungry."
She had lost all consciousness of the crowd now.
She was talking to herself, trying to keep her courage up.
The President looked into the emaciated faces before him and lifted his
long arm in solemn salutation.


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