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"Attend to Lieutenant Whately's supper and see that he has the best you can get for him." "Yassum." Mrs. Baron then repaired to her husband's office, where he and Surgeon Ackley were closeted, making up the accounts relating to the occupation of the property for hospital purposes. Maynard lighted his pipe, and strolled out into the grounds. He was in a cold, deadly mood of anger.
At the close of the fourth day after the battle there was an arrival at The Oaks that greatly interested Miss Lou a stately, white- haired old lady, the mother of Lieutenant Waldo. She was very pale and it would have been hard for Surgeon Ackley to meet her agonized look, her shrinking as if from a blow, were he unable to hold out any hope. "Mrs.
She was unmoved when the lawyer who was advising her disclosed to her the fact that Harriet Ackley had used every cent of the Ackley money. "I realize that we have to work," said she, "but my sister and I have determined to keep the place." That was the end of the discussion.
He knew that he must "make his crops," or his fortunes would be desperate. Remembering the value of timely labor in the spring season, he was eager on this second day after the battle to put his slaves to work again at their interrupted avocations. Accordingly he held a consultation with his nephew and Dr. Ackley.
At six A.M. Worley Gates, who farms eight miles south, comes in to catch an early train and delivers the first bulletin. The roads to the south are drying fast, but he went down the clay hill sidewise and had to go through the bottom on low. At seven, Wimble Horn and Colonel Ackley and Sim Bone drop in while waiting for breakfast.
The small house was to be sold, and they were to move into the old Ackley house and take boarders to pay for its keeping. She scouted the idea of selling it. She had an enormous family pride. She had always held her head high when she had walked past that fine old mansion, the cradle of her race, which she was forbidden to enter.
"I don't think it's right for you, cousin, to be going among those rough, brutal fellows." Instantly her anger flamed at the injustice of the remark and she answered hotly, "I've found no rough, brutal fellows among the Yankees." All smiled at her words, and Ackley remarked to one of the Union surgeons, "Dr.
Dressing hastily, she went first to see the old Confederate colonel. He was evidently failing fast Ackley and an attendant were watching him. He looked at the girl, smiled and held out his hand. She took it and sat down beside him. "Ah!" he said feebly, "this is a good deal better than dying alone. Would you mind, my child, writing some things I would like to say to my family?"
There isn't enough news in it to cause a thrill in a sewing circle. But after supper at home, when we look it over more carefully and the first hot flush of anticipation has worn off, we do find a lot of information. Ackley is visiting her daughter in Ogallala, Neb. And that old Mrs.
One man emerged from this chapter in the history of human folly supremely happy: this was Hull, the inventor of the "giant." He had at last made some money, had gained a reputation for "smartness," and, what probably pleased him best of all, had revenged himself upon the Rev. Mr. Turk of Ackley, Iowa, who by lung-power had worsted him in the argument as to the giants mentioned in Scripture.
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