Miss Bell's lap, and Miss
Bessie was writing some nonsense in my note-book.

A sharp knock fell upon the door, and something that sounded like the
butt of a musket shook the porch without. The girls turned pale, and I
think that Miss Bessie seized my arm and clung to it. I think also, that
Miss Bell attempted to take the other arm, to which I demurred.

"Those brutal soldiers again!" said Priscilla, faintly.

"I think one of the andirons has fallen down, darter!" said the old man,
rousing up.

"Tremble for my life," said Miss Bell; "_sure_ shall die if it's _a
man_."

I opened the door after a little pause, when a couple of rough privates
in uniform confronted me.

"We're two guards that General Meade sent to protect the house and
property," said the tallest of these men; "might a feller come in and
warm his feet!"

I understood at once that the Quartermaster had obtained these persons;
and the other man coming forward, said--

"I fetched some coffee over, and a bag o' salt, with Corporal Fogg's
compliments."

They deposited their muskets in a corner, and balanced their boots on
the fender. Nothing was said for a time.

"Did you lose yer poultry?" said the tall man, at length.

"All," said Miss Priscilla.

"Fellers loves poultry!" said the man, smacking his lips.

"Did you lose yer sheep?" said the same man, after a little silence.

"The Bucktails cut their throats the first day that they encamped at the
mill," said Miss Priscilla.

"Them Bucktails great fellers," said the tall man; "them Bucktails awful
on sheep: they loves 'em so!"

He relapsed again for a few minutes, when he continued: "You don't like
fellers to bag yer poultry and sheep, do you?"

Miss Priscilla replied that it was both dishonest and cruel. Miss Bell
intimated that none but Yankees would do it.

"P'raps not," said the tall soldier, drily; "did you ever grub on fat
pork, Miss? No? Did you ever gnaw yer hard tack after a spell o'
sickness, and a ten-hour march? No? P'raps you might like a streak o'
mutton arterwards! P'raps you might take a notion for a couple o'
chickens or so! No? How's that, Ike? What do you think, pardner? (to me)
I ain't over and above cruel, mum. I don't think the Bucktails is over
and above dishonest to home, mum. But, gosh hang it, I think I _would_
bag a chicken any day! I say that above board. Hey, Ike?"

When the tall man and his inferior satellite had warmed their boots till
they smoked, they ros