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Updated: May 19, 2025
I guess my Aunt Libby don't know much. I guess she never worked a week to make a kite, and the first time she went to fly it got the tail hitched in a tall tree, whose owner wouldn't let her climb up to disentangle it. I guess she never broke one of the runners of her sled some Saturday afternoon, when it was "prime" coasting.
She did not make any reply, and I left her standing with downcast eyes by the door. Mrs. Libby still sat sewing by the window when I returned. "Have a pleasant time?" she asked, a gleam of curiosity in her cold eyes. "Seems to me you didn't stay long." "No, not very long." "See that queer room of hers? Folks ain't asked into it much. They said she took the minister right in there when he called.
Zack's principle of up-bringing was that young folk should learn to turn their hand to 'most everythin'. And Libby, a large plump girl with prodigiously red cheeks and lips, had profited so far by her training as to be nearly as clever in the field as in the kitchen.
"Oh, I am so glad to hear it!" replied the other. She looked round, but was unable to form a party. By twos or threes they might have liked to take Mrs. Maynard to pieces; but no one cares to make unkind remarks before a whole company of people. Some of the ladies even began to say pleasant things about Mr. Libby, as if he were Grace's friend.
Never having seen this before in the eyes of any man who looked at her, she referred it to some vague "larking" or jocularity, for which she was in no mood. "Say, Libby! you're gettin' to be a right smart-lookin' gal. Seems to agree with ye up here," said Hoskins with an awkward laugh. "Darned ef ye ain't lookin' awful purty!"
We were taken to Richmond, Va. The men were soon sent through the lines and exchanged. My officers and myself were confined in Libby Prison, where we remained until the night of February 9 last, when four of my officers and myself, together with several other prisoners, succeeded in making our escape, and reached Washington in safety about March 1.
I learned of much suffering on the Peninsula, and decided to take the rest of my supplies down the James River to Williamsburg. While arranging my packages for leaving Libby, a multitude of people were thronging the street near the prison. I inquired for the cause of this excitement, and was informed that a Union soldier was about to be executed for murdering a man for his money, horse, and buggy.
She must be older than you." "Yes, and you, too!" cried Mrs. Maynard, with good-natured derision. "She doesn't look old," returned Mr. Libby. "She's twenty-eight. How old are you?" "I promised the census-taker not to tell till his report came out." "What is the color of her hair?" "Brown." "And her eyes?" "I don't know!" "You had better look out, Mr. Libby!" said Mrs.
Fremont, through Kentucky and Tennessee to Corinth, Miss., back to Ohio and through all the wanderings of the 7th O. V. C., including this masterly "raid," being yet good in flesh and unbroken in spirit; to part with such a friend was no light affair. But with all the horrors of Libby Prison on one hand and life and liberty on the other, I was not long in making up my mind which course to pursue.
Aunt Libby was at the side porch so that in passing Dorothy called to her she would be back in a short time, then she crossed through the orchard, going under the very tree in the shade of which Sarah had been found suffering. Dorothy stopped and looked up into the branches. They were very low, some of them, so low that in fruit time girls could pick the apples without climbing for them.
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