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When it was perceived that the Griffin showed no signs of going away, all the people who were able to do so left the town. The canons and the higher officers of the church had fled away during the first day of the Griffin's visit, leaving behind only the Minor Canon and some of the men who opened the doors and swept the church.
My office was furnished, and board was allowed me at the head-quarters of the freedmen's hospital in Campbell Camp. On February eth I called at Josephine Griffin's relief office before 10 o'clock A. M. Between sixty and seventy persons called on her, mostly for work. I followed a number of the applicants for soup- tickets to their homes.
It was the expected signal. Immediately there was a shout from the porch, and the warwhoop sounded out of doors. The meeting poured out of doors and followed some fifty men in the garb of Indians, who suddenly appeared in the street. They hurried to Griffin's Wharf.
But the clothed and the naked were equally happy, for had they not done something at last? Ay! they had given assurance that they were men to be reckoned with. Fired by the example set them by the Continentals, the Pennsylvania militia, under Cadwalader and Ewing and Mifflin, had at last crossed the Delaware and joined Griffin's men.
"Oh, are we all to lunch together?" said Miss Dorothy in a pleased voice. "Suppose we go to Griffin's; it is a nice quiet place." "What time?" "About one, I think." "All right, one sharp, then. Sure you've enough money?" Miss Dorothy nodded. "Quite enough. Dear dad," she said as he moved off, "he is so generous. I don't believe he has a mean bone in his body."
The very O absolutely turns its back upon the M in O'Malley, and the final Y wags his tail with a kind of independent shake, as if he did not care a curse for his predecessors! And the seal, too, surely I know that griffin's head, and that stern motto, Non rogo sed capio. To be sure, it is Billy Considine's, the count himself.
Then Betty found that Madam had known Miss Alcott, and, before she realized what she was doing, she had thrown herself down impulsively on the stool at her feet, and, with both hands clasping the griffin's head on the arm of the high-backed chair, was asking a dozen eager questions about "Little Women" and the author who had been her first inspiration to write.
The chorus swelled, with Griffin's thrilling treble soaring high and clear: "Glorious night that makes us strong, Drowning day and ending strife; Guide the skilful hand and eye, Shape our efforts into life." Patricia's heart beat hard with the beauty of the woven word and melody, and she gave a little gulp to keep back the tears that sprang so readily.
This person had a man's face and a griffin's body, and big feathery wings, and a snake's tail, and a cock's comb and neck feathers. "Whatever are you?" said Edmund. "I'm a poor starving cockatrice," answered the pale person in a very faint voice, "and I shall die oh, I know I shall! My fire's gone out! I can't think how it happened; I must have been asleep.
Like incarnations of victory, Beauregard and Johnston swept to the front where the conflict was most deadly; everywhere, at sight of them, our thin ranks dashed forward, and were mowed down by the fire of Rickett's and Griffin's batteries, which crowned the position they were so eager to regain.
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