her tell us a
teeny-weeny bit of that war story?" ventured Dot Starr.

"Oh, yes! Please do! Flutey, do tell!" came from various directions.

"Why, that would be lovely, Aunt Selina, if you will," added Mrs.
Talmage.

Thus besieged, Aunt Selina decided to yield to the children.

"Let me see," she began. "I must have been about eighteen when my
dearest friend, Rebecca Crudup, invited me to spend Easter Holidays at
her Southern home. We had been chums from the moment we met at Miss
Wyland's Seminary for Young Ladies, and the Christmas before the time I
just mentioned, Rebecca had visited my home at Happy Hills. Mother
liked Rebecca immensely, but she feared the fighting in the South might
create trouble for me if I went with Becky. We reassured her, however,
and an unwilling consent was written from home.

"A week before the vacation began, Becky received a letter asking her to
start home as soon as she received the word, as important matters in the
family had to be looked after.

"As this would give us an extra week's holiday we hailed the letter with
joy. The girls stood about enviously watching us pack our carpetbags and
Rebecca's trunk. I packed many of my things in her trunk to save the
trouble of transporting two to Tennessee. We left the next morning
'midst shouts reminding us to be sure to be on hand when school
re-opened.

"We enjoyed the journey during the first part of the way, but, as the
train sped on, the country showed signs of the desolation wrought by
war, and we sobered from our happy laughter to serious contemplation.

"The nearer to Nashville that we came, the deeper the evidence that war
was an awful thing. We saw burned homes, devastated land and
forlorn-looking families as we passed by.

"Rebecca's father met us at the station in Nashville and welcomed me
with a surprised manner. Turning to his daughter, he spoke in a serious
tone.

"'We will endeavor to give your friend an enjoyable visit, daughter, but
it doesn't seem promisin'. Evidently you did not receive our telegram?'

"'Only this letter, father,' replied Becky, showing him the last letter
received by her.

"'Hum! well, we will live up to our reputation, Miss Selina, and be the
true Southern hosts.'

"As we came out of the station and walked toward the carriage-posts,
Rebecca looked about for the family equipage.

"Mr. Crudup led us toward a great spring wagon which was drawn by two
raw-boned farm horses. An old darky sat on