cape and thrusting between her teeth. "Go
off now," she panted between the shining row. "Go off where you came
from!"

Then, almost simultaneously with the approach of a dishevelled Indian
hollering between cupped hands that "p'rade's goin' start," came Webb's
warning whistle from down the street. Mrs. Eaton straightened to an
appropriate dignity of bearing. She made a waving motion of her arm
toward her little dears that ignored Nancy, standing back, dumb with
the cruelty of it all.

But Nonie's crestfallen face stung Nancy to sudden action. While the
band of peace fluttered wildly back to its position, Nancy, with an arm
about each, moved with the children toward the church. She moved
quickly, too, for a sudden inspiration had seized her. She remembered
three flags on standards in the Sunday-school room. She bade Davy get
them.

"Do _just_ what I tell you," she commanded. "The _cat_!" she threw
over her shoulder.

All Freedom was too intent upon catching a first glimpse of Webb's host
moving up the village street to notice the strange sight of Nancy and
her companions racing through the back yards and fields that skirted
the main thoroughfare. A long tear in Nancy's skirt testified to the
speed with which she had climbed all obstacles. Such was the fire in
her soul that she could have climbed a mountain!

In the shade of a wide maple tree, B'lindy, resplendent in fresh
gingham and her good-as-new-last-year's-hat, watched Webb's "doin's"
with a heart that fluttered with pride. No town in the whole Island
could turn out more folks! But, then, no town on the Island had a
prouder history!

With his badges glittering on the faded blue coat, Webb marched at the
head of his "p'rade" in his uniform of the Grand Army of the Republic.
On either side of him stepped the recently returned soldiers, their
young-old faces turned straight ahead, their worn tunics attesting to
other lines of march through other village streets. Behind them were
the three soldier boys who had not "gone across." In pure enjoyment of
the occasion they had forgotten the resentment against fate that they
had cherished. A group of boys and girls in Indian costume portrayed
that epoch of Freedom's history. One great warrior brandished a
tomahawk that had been dug up in a nearby field and was now kept in a
suitable setting at the post-office. Close at their heels followed
four staid Puritan men, broad white collars pinned over Sunday