We
had heard it before, and knew the sound well. Once before I had
awakened from sleep and seen the distorted shadows of horsemen chase
one another across the strip of moonlight just over my bed, and looked
from my window to see the moonlight glittering on the sabres and gun
barrels of an armed host surrounding our house. That is not a sight to
be forgotten, let me tell you, children who are born and reared in the
lap of peace and plenty.

For quite a while--it seemed ages to me--we sat in silence looking at
one another. But though the lights twinkled in all the neighboring
windows, telling of other anxious watchers, no unusual sound disturbed
the air.

What could it mean? Surprise began to succeed to alarm. It occurred to
some one to call up Uncle Scipio, and get him to investigate. But it
was wonder on top of wonder--he was not to be found; neither had his
bed been disturbed during the night. Had he deserted us and gone over
to the enemy, then? No, we could not really doubt him, even yet; but
his absence was too significant; there must be some plot hatching
somewhere in the dark.

There was nothing for us to do but wait. But we had not to wait much
longer; for presently in walked the absentee, clothed in his most
majestic air, but a little non-plussed to see us all up and dressed.

"Oh, Scipio! where have you been?" we exclaimed indignantly. "How
could you leave us at such a time and the town full of soldiers? Which
way are they coming? What shall we do?"

"Well, I clar," he answered, in a bewildered sort of way, "dis yere
proceedin' clean tops my cotton! Is you all clar outen yer minds, or
what's de matter wid yer? I aint seed nary a Yankee dis night, and I
jes bin way up to de Mef'dis chache, ringing de Christmas chimes fur
to cheer you up a little. Did'n ole Scip tell you, honeys, dat dis was
gwine to be de boss Christmas? And he done kep his word. I met ole
Santy out yonder, sittin' on de pump and he sez he's comin' here
soon's iver he kin; so you better git to bed 'mejitly, ef not sooner;
ef you don't he'll be here and ketch you 'Christmas gif' fust, sho' he
will."

And so this was the end of it all. The dear old soul had taken it into
his funny old head to give us a surprise and ring the Christmas chimes
as in the old times.

Well, we tried to soften the blow, when we told him what a blunder he
had made; but we knew it would be a long time ere he would recover
from his chagrin. He had long been a terro