se and dropped a courtesy.

"Mornin', Mars Ned."

"Well, Winnie, you forgot your Virginia raising yesterday. What is all
this about your feather-bed?"

"Well, Mars Ned, dey dun stole it."

"Who stole it?"

"_Dah_, honey, de Lawd only knows, an' he ain't gwine ter tell. I dun
loss it anyhow, an' my pore ole bones mity sore sleepin' on dem
shucks."

Mr. Grey, finding that the old creature's grievance was very real to
her, refrained from scolding, and, passing out through the little
flower-garden, proceeded to the stable to feed the stock, a piece of
work which before the war had employed many hands, but which now was
performed by himself, assisted only by one negro man.

Upon the summer air rang the sweet voice of Nelly as she sang at her
work. In the scented garden Mrs. Grey with her little boy weeded and
trimmed and twined the lovely flowers, feeling really a greater
delight in the fruit of their labor than if they had no real
acquaintance with the flowers, but only received them from the hands
of a gardener.

Dear reader, we must now say farewell to our Nelly. Let us hope that
the clouds which darkened her childhood and early youth have passed
never to return, and that although "into each life some rain must
fall," her rainy days may be few and far between.

CHAPTER II.

BRAVE BOYS.

I believe I may safely say that no cause ever fought for, no army ever
raised, numbered among its adherents and soldiers so many mere boys as
rallied around "The Bonnie Blue Flag," bringing to its defence the
ardor of youth, added to unquestioning loyalty and Spartan bravery.
Aye, more wonderful, more worthy of admiration than the bravery of the
Spartan youth, because our Southern boys had, up to the beginning of
the war, known nothing of hardship or danger. Yet they met with
splendid courage all that fell to their lot as soldiers, fighting with
an impetuosity and determination which equalled that of the oldest
veterans. My book contains already many instances of lofty courage and
patient endurance as shown by boys. I will add one or two incidents
worthy of record.

In one of the companies of the Third Lee Battalion was a bright Irish
boy named Flannagan, who had been brought to Virginia by one of the
officers as his attendant. During the seven days' fight around
Richmond this child, having procured a small shot-gun, fought with the
best of them, coming out safe and sound. I learned this little history
from a so