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"Has he a taste for fiction?" I asked, with a depreciative smirk.

"Out on the Natchez Trace waiting for the command. I'm carrying orders to Fisher's battery, down here by the cross-roads. Haven't you seen the General this morning? What! haven't seen him in his new uniform? Whoop! he's a blaze of glory! Look here, Smith, I believe you know who brought it to him!"

The flap fell again and my panic was turned into a joy qualified only by a reduced esteem for my general as a judge of character.

"That will do. Now, beyond Fayette, about seven miles north, there's a place--"

"I don't believe you! I don't believe you ever had cause for one!" She laid a hand again upon mine.

What do you say?--Yes, she might have spoken more wisely. Yet always there vibrated in her voice a wealth of thought, now bitter, now sweet, and often both at once, and a splendor of emotions, beyond the scope of all ordinary natures. How far beyond my own scope they were, even with my passions at flood-tide and turbid as a back-street overflow, I failed to ponder while I passed around the paling fence alone.

"My mother! Do you know my mother?"

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