her, 'Violetta can do most as much as I can now, an' I am goin' to
Richmond where the army's goin'. I am goin' to see Pap an' Dave an'--an'
Billy, an' I am goin' to stay with Cousin Nanny Pine.' An' mother says,
says she, 'Her name is Oak now, but I reckon you'll know her house by
the bonnets in the window.' Mother was always like that," said
Christianna, again, with soft pride. "Always quick-minded! She sees the
squirrel in the tree quicker'n any of us--'ceptin' it's Billy. An' she
says, 'How're you goin' to get thar, Christianna--less'n you walk?' An'
I says, 'I'll walk.'"

"Oh, poor child!" cried Judith! "Did you?"

"No, ma'am; only a real little part of the way. It's a hundred and fifty
miles, an' we ain't trained to march, an' it would have taken me so
long. No, ma'am. Mrs. Cole heard about my goin' an' she sent a boy to
tell me to come see her, an' I went, an' she gave me a dollar (I surely
am goin' to pay it back, with interest) an' a lot of advice, an' she
couldn't tell me how to find Pap an' Dave an' Billy, but she said a deal
of people would know about Allan Gold, for he was a great scout, an' she
gave me messages for him; an' anyhow the name of the regiment was the
65th, an' the colonel was your son, ma'am, an' he would find the others
for me. An' she got a man to take me in his wagon, twenty miles toward
Lynchburg, for nothin'. An' I thanked him, an' asked him to have some of
the dinner mother an' Violetta had put in a bundle for me; but he said
no, he wasn't hungry. An' that night I slept at a farmhouse, an' they
wouldn't take any pay. An' the next day and the next I walked to
Lynchburg, an' there I took the train." Her voice gathered firmness. "I
had never seen one before, but I took it all right. I asked if it was
goin' to Richmond, an' I climbed on. An' a man came along an' asked me
for my ticket, an' I said that I didn't have one, but that I wanted to
pay if it wasn't more than a dollar. An' he asked me if it was a gold
dollar or a Confederate dollar. An' there were soldiers on the train,
an' one came up an' took off his hat an' asked me where I was goin', an'
I told him an' why, an' he said it didn't matter whether it was gold or
Confederate, and that the conductor didn't want it anyhow. An' the
conductor--that was what the first man was called--said he didn't
reckon I'd take up much room, an' that the road was so dog-goned tired
that one more couldn't make it any tireder, an' the soldier made me sit