"Why not?" continued her tormentor. "They are lots nicer than the rebels;
have more to eat, and wear better clothes. Besides, didn't the rebels
steal your mamma's best horses, the last time they passed this way, and
leave her nothing but two starved, broken-down nags in their place? Didn't
they, now?"

"Yes," the child was reluctantly forced to admit. Suddenly her face
brightened; she almost trembled with eagerness. "Who stole my mamma's
negroes, I wonder; every one of them but Mam' Sarah, and Aunt Judy, and
Uncle Squire, and Polly and Dilsy--every one; who did that?"

That sally provoked such a peal of laughter and put everybody in such a
good humor, possibly the search was not prosecuted as vigorously as it
might have been otherwise.

The next morning about sunrise two Federal soldiers sat on their horses
before Mrs. Marsden's front door. The family were assembled on the porch.
They were always early risers, and their being up a little earlier than
usual would have caused no comment. Possibly the leave-taking might have
seemed a little queer to prying eyes.

"Take care of my gun," the youngest-looking of the soldiers whispered to
Roberta, "and if I live, I'll come back before long and get it."

"Will you?" said the child, delightedly. "Then I'll take care of it,
sure." An instant afterwards added, with the serio-comic imitation of the
fire of older tongues, so common at that time, "They will have to walk
over my dead body before they take it from me."

As the soldiers rode through the avenue the murkiness overhead cleared,
and shafts of clear gold fell earthward; each blade of grass sparkled like
a diamond, and tiny globules hung from the leaves of the trees, reflecting
countless dazzling prisms of light. A lark started up from the high grass
of the meadow, and soared aloft, dropping soft trills and quavers and
clear, fresh warbles from his happy little throat. Just outside of the
avenue gate they met a line of milch-cows en route for the "cuppen." They
moved swiftly as though there was purpose in their movements, and glanced
about with eager eyes. Slender streams of milk flowed from their swollen
teats, and marked their passage along the road-side. In barnyards near
calves were waiting, frantic to get at those same swollen teats. The black
boy who had them in charge opened the avenue gate for them, then stood and
looked after the soldiers, the very embodiment of shrewd, impish humor.
Hands burrowing in his po