I talked until (wonderful to relate) my tongue was tired: my audience
being the old, white-haired father, the mother, the wife, and the
eager children, who were shy at first, but by degrees nestled closer,
with bright eyes from which sleep seemed banished forever.
The next morning when, after a substantial breakfast, I was once more
ready to start, every member of the family made some addition to my
stores, notably, a few pounds of really good country butter. This was
always highly prized by the soldiers. As a general thing, when the
cows were fed upon cotton-seed the butter was white and "waxy," this
was yellow and firm. The oldest girl brought me a pair of socks she
had herself knitted; one of the little boys, six eggs laid by his own
"dominiker," which he pointed out to me as she stalked about the yard
proud of her mottled feathers and rosy comb.
Even the baby came toddling to the door saying, "Heah, heah," and
holding out a snowy little kitten. The old gentleman, mounting his
horse, offered to "ride a piece" with us. Thanks to his
representations to the neighbors, I was able in a short time to turn
my face homewards, having gathered an excellent supply of chickens,
eggs, hams, home-made cordials, peach and apple brandy, and a few
pairs of socks.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241