at first; but I took her near the couch, and, pointing to him, I said:

"Dead!-Dead!"

She repeated interrogatively, and, when she fully realized that such was the case, her cries were pitiable, oh, so pitiable.

I sank down upon the floor and waited for the paroxysm of grief to subside, and then went to her and made her understand that I was going out and that she must stay with her mistress until I returned. An hour later, under the manipulation of good "Eliza Williams"known throughout Decatur as Mrs. Ammi Williams' faithful servant-and one or two others whom she brought with her, Toby was robed in a nice white suit of clothes prepared for the occasion by the faithful hands of his "Miss Polly," whom he had loved well, and who had cared for him in his orphanage.

We had had intimation that the Federals would again occupy Decatur, and as soon as day dawned I went to see Mr. Robert Jones, Sen., and got him to make a coffin for Toby, and I then asked "Uncle Mack," and "Henry"-now known as Decatur's Henry Oliver-to dig the grave. Indeed, these two men agreed to attend to the matter of his burial. After consultation with my mother, it was agreed that that should take place as soon as all things were in readiness. Mr. Jones made a pretty, well-shaped coffin out of good heart pine, and the two faithful negro men already mentioned prepared with care the grave. When all was in readiness, the dead boy was placed in the coffin and borne to the grave by very gentle hands.

Next to the pall-bearers my mother and myself and

Telitha fell in line, and then followed the few negroes yet remaining in the town, and that funeral cortege was complete.

At the grave an unexpected and most welcome stranger appeared. "Uncle Mack" told me he was a minister, and would perform the funeral service—and grandly did he do it. The very soul of prayer seemed embodied in this negro preacher's invocation; nor did he forget Toby's "nurses," and every consolation and blessing was besought for them. And thus our Toby received a Christian burial.

CHAPTER XVI.

EVERETT'S DESERTION.

During the early spring of that memorable year, 1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur that Judge Hook and family, including his accomplished daughter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, from Chattanooga, had arrived at the depot, and were domiciled, pro tem., in cars which had been switched off the main track of the famous old Georgia Railroad. This novel mode of living, even in war times, by people in their monetary condition and social standing, naturally attracted much attention, and brought us to a full realization of approaching danger. That this family, accustomed to all the luxuries of an elegant home, should live in such an abode, with its attendant privations, was convincing proof that the home they had abandoned had become intolerable because of the proximity of the enemy; and it was also fearfully suggestive that that ubiquitous enemy was extending his dominion and bringing the fiery, bloody conflict into the very heart of the "rebellion."

A rebellion, by way of parenthesis, which impartial historians will put on record as the grandest uprising of a long suffering people that was ever known in the annals of nations; "a mutiny" (as that chief of Southern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose superb egotism

impressed him with the idea that his influence could change the political trend of Great Britain towards the South, has seen proper to denominate it) in the camp of American councils brought about by unceasing abuse of the Southern States by political tricksters, whose only hope of survival lay in the hatred for the South thus engendered.

The coming of Judge Hook's family was hailed with pleasure by all good and loyal citizens, and was a ligament connecting more closely States suffering in a common cause; and we all called upon them and soon numbered them with our intimate friends. Mrs. Whitesides and Miss Hook were effective workers in all that benefited our soldiers or their families.

Judge Hook was superintendent of the Government Iron Works, and literally brought the foundry as well as the operatives with him. Among the latter was a man by the name of Everett, who, with his family, consisting of his wife and five children, occupied an old one-room house near a corner of our home lot. Although a hearty, hale, and rather good-looking man, Everett was very poor, and the first time I ever saw his wife she came to borrow "a little flour." As my mother never turned away from a borrower, Mrs. Everett's vessel was filled to overflowing, and, besides, a pitcher of buttermilk and a plate of butter was given to her, for which she was extremely grateful.

An acquaintance thus begun continued during the spring and early summer months, and there was not a day during that period that my mother did not find it

convenient to do something for this family. Mrs. Everett was more than ordinarily intelligent for a person in her position, and the blush which mantled her pretty cheeks when she asked for anything betrayed her sensibility; and her children were pretty and sweet-mannered. I never saw Everett, only as I met him going and coming from his work, and on those occasions he showed the greatest respect for me by taking off his hat as he approached me, and holding it in his hand until he had fully passed. He seemed to be a steady worker, and if he ever lost a day I never heard of it; and Mrs. Everett was industrious, but much of the time unemployed for lack of material with which to work, and she often begged for something to do. She was anxious to work for our soldiers, and told me that all of her male relatives were in the Confederate army. This circumstance endeared her very much to me; and I made the support of his family very much. easier to Everett than it would have been had he lived in a non-appreciative neighborhood. And when the village girls met at our house to practice for concerts for the benefit of our soldiers, which they did almost weekly, I never forgot that Mrs. Everett's brothers were in our army fighting valiantly, no doubt, for our cause, and I always asked her to come and bring her children to my room and listen with me to the sweet music and patriotic songs.

As time sped, many opportunities for witnessing Mrs. Everett's devotion to her native land presented themselves; and her service to its defenders, though humble and unobtrusive, was valuable. Her children, too, always