The old farmer also showed us a way by which we could
avoid a repetition of the tortures of yesterday, and rode beside the
ambulance to the main road. I remember well how he looked, as he sat
upon his old white mule, waiting to see the last of us. His hat,
pushed back, showed a few locks of silvery hair; his coarse clothes
and heavy, home-made boots were worn in a manner that betrayed the
Southern gentleman. The parting smile, still lingering upon his kindly
face, could not conceal the "furrows of care," which had deepened with
every year of the war. But, alas! I cannot recall his name, although I
then thought I could never forget it.
Upon arriving at Newnan, I lost no time in preparing my boxes for the
front. Everything was cooked; even the eggs were hard-boiled. There
was sufficient to fill two large boxes. Having packed and shipped to
the depot my treasures, I prepared for the final step without
hesitation, although not without some doubt as to success in eluding
the vigilance of my friends. Announcing my determination to see the
boxes off, I--accompanied by my maid--walked down to the depot just
before train-time.
Pages:
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242