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Updated: June 10, 2025
Anyhow, she stopped cryin' and laughin' and let me put her to bed, and she went to sleep like a baby inside of half an hour. That was more than poor Aunt Abby did. She lay awake all that night and I stayed with her, though she tried not to have me; said she wa'n't sick enough for watchers. But I stayed, and I made some good cornmeal gruel and I fed her a teaspoon every little while all night long.
"Just a line, Rose girl, before I put out the light and go on a dream hunt for you," Everett wrote in his square black letters. "The day has been long and I feel as if I had been drawn out still longer. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and there's no balm of Gilead in New York. I can't eat because there are no cornmeal muffins in this howling wilderness of houses, streets, people and noise.
Git on your mule at onct." The teamster did as he was bid, and drove on till they came up to where the boys were sitting on a fence-corner waiting for them. Si had a brace of chickens tied together by the feet, and Shorty a crock of honey in the comb, with a bag of saleratus biscuits and one of cornmeal, and a number of strings of dried apples. "Bin waitin' for you a good while, Pap.
He saw the boasting, incompetent father telling his endless tales of the Civil War and complaining of his wounds; the tall, stoop-shouldered, silent mother with the deep lines in her long face, everlastingly at work over her washtub among the soiled clothes; the silent, hurriedly-eaten meals snatched from the kitchen table; and the long winter days when ice formed upon his mother's skirts and Windy idled about town while the little family subsisted upon bowls of cornmeal mush everlastingly repeated.
And as we were depleted of cornmeal and other provisions, Zoe and I went to town, riding one of the horses which Engle had brought over to me. Bad news waited us here. Mrs. Spurgeon had died during the bitter weather, about three weeks before. Sarah was very much depressed. And Reverdy seemed almost as unhappy over the loss. He had much to do, but he would now set to work upon my house.
Drawing my box up close to the fire, I sat down, Tempe, in the mean while, stirring the coals and arranging the burning ends of the pine in true country style. Presently my supper was brought in, corn-bread, cornmeal coffee, a piece of musty fried salt meat, heavy brown sugar, and no milk. I was, however, hungry, and ate with a relish.
The negroes had been freed by the Governor's will, but the girl could not turn them from their homes, and, with the exception of the few field hands who had followed the Union army, they still lived in their little cabins and drew their daily rations from the storehouse. Betty herself shared their rations of cornmeal and bacon, jealously guarding her small supplies of milk and eggs for Mrs.
After boiling tender, the feet were split lengthwise in half, rolled in sifted cornmeal, salted and peppered, and fried crisp in plenty of boiling hot fat. Served with hot biscuit, and stewed sun-dried peaches, along with strong coffee, brown and fragrant, they made a supper or breakfast one could rejoice in.
Pinetop was mixing thin cornmeal paste into the gravy, and he looked up as he stirred busily with a small stick. "Wall, I reckon these here slapjacks air about done," he remarked in a moment, adding with a glance at Dan, "and if your stomach's near as empty as your eyes, I reckon your turn comes first."
But one might as well open one's mind to the fact that the only way to put off the day when there will be no white bread to eat is to begin eating cornmeal now. Most of us want to eat our cake and keep it too to enjoy our food and not pay for our pleasure; to do our duty towards our country and not feel any personal inconvenience.
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