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days lat-er at Fish-er’s Hill a-gainst the foe un-der Ear-ly. Sher-i-dan took all the stock from the Val-ley and burned barns full of grain, so the foe would not find food there, but still Ear-ly sent a part of his men af-ter the Un-ion troops, mov-ing so that his for-ces would not make a noise in the night on a lone-path till they got to a place where the Un-ion troops were sound a-sleep. The rest of his ar-my, Ear-ly kept by him to strike at Sher-i-dan’s force in front. The bat-tle of Ce-dar Creek came then twixt these two ar-mies. The foe won. Sher-i-dan was not there but heard the guns and rode





The dancing platform, with its once-smooth floor and the bright-painted lattice which ran around its base, was sharing the fate of the rest of the grove. The floor was sunken and holey. The laths of the lattice had fallen away in one or two places, and everywhere they had been washed free of their former gay paint.






"Ah! what indeed?" was all the answer Robert made, and was snoring in an instant.

??High-class jerry-building, if you like. Cottages with sensible insides, real insides, and not so much waste space and scamping to make up for it. They??re half a million houses short in this country already. There??s something in building appeals to my sort of imagination. And I??m going to make money, Petah.??

What made the situation the more difficult was the fact that the agricultural labourers, as soon as they were thoroughly organized, had the landowners, during the harvest time, at a peculiar disadvantage, because when work in the fields stopped, the standing grain ripened and spoiled and the landowner was ruined.

“Nonsense! I don’t believe a word of it!” I declared.

“I was always fond of a good saddle horse,” he went on, “and many of the boys in our company of cavalry were of the same way of thinking. In fact, we had picked up a whole company of them down there, and I’m afraid we did not take the trouble to issue any Government warrants for them either,” he laughed. “So when we went into camp in this village of Marshall County we had a company of as fine horses as any cavalry company ever bestrode. Time went a little heavy on our hands, until one day some of the boys got up a bet on the speed of their respective horses, and a quarter race was run that evening at which the entire company turned out. It was won by a little roan horse that could pace nearly as fast as he could run, which was saying a good deal, for he could run for a quarter of a mile about as fast as anything I ever saw on four legs. Well, he won, and two days afterward beat two others, and a week after that beat everything they could rake and scrape up against him. All this was hugely interesting and immensely exciting, and as none of us had ever heard anything of the presence of the rebel cavalry leader and reckless raider, General Forrest, and never dreamed of the danger we were in, I am sorry to say that we were more interested in horse-racing just then than anything else. The owner of the horse called the little roan pacer and runner “Mack,” in honor of General MacPherson, who commanded some of us at Shiloh. Well, after Mack had beaten everything running, it was announced in camp one day that Mack’s match at pacing had been captured a few days before, and a big pacing race was to come off that evening to decide it. I had never seen a pacing race under saddle, and with all the others I went out to see it. You can imagine what asses we were when we left everything in camp, even our side arms, in care of a few sentinels and camp followers, and all of us adjourned to an old field about a quarter of a mile to see the sport. The track was a half-mile, laid off on a nice country road, the judges standing at the end of the half mile and the start was at the beginning. It is needless to say that every man in the company was at the end of the track where the judges were. The horses were nearly equal favorites, and we soon had to appoint a man to hold the bets. He had his hands full, for every man in the company had something upon the race, and the goose hung high—and we were the goose,” he laughed.

The old man smiled: “’Pon my word, Bud, you’re gittin’ so smart. I don’t know what I’ll be doin’ with you—so ’riginal an’ smart. Why, you’ll quit keepin’ an old man’s company—like me. I won’t be able to entertain you at all. But, as I was sayin’ the next thing he knows, he’ll be one of the family.



"The truth is that I can't stand it any longer," she said in a low voice. "I simply can't stand it."

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