eat eyes were fixed hungrily
upon him.

"They've bin fouten over ter Wildcat to-day," he said, answering their
inquiry, without waiting to empty his mouth.

"Yes, I heard the cannons," she said with such gentle voice as made her
dialect seem quaint and sweet. "I clim up on Bald Rock at the top o'
the mounting an' lissened. I could see the smoke raisin', but I couldn't
tell nothin'. Much uv a fout?"

"Awful big'un. Biggest 'un sence Buner Vister. Ole Zollicoffer pitched
his whole army onter Kunnel Gerrard's rijimint. Some other rijiments cum
up ter help Kunnel Garrard, an' both sides fit like devis fur three or
fur hours, an' the dead jess lay in winrows, an'----"

The demands of Fortner's unappeased appetite here rose superior to
his desire to impart information. He stopped to munch the last bit of
corn-bread and drain his bowl to the bottom.

"Yes," said Aunt Debby, inhospitably disregarding the exhaustion of the
provender, and speaking a little more quickly than her wont, "but which
side whipt?"

"Our'n, in course," said Fortner, with nettled surprise at the question.
"Our'n, in course. Old Zollicoffer got ez bad a licken ez ever Gineral
Zach Taylor gi'n the Mexicans."

"Rayally?" she said. Gratification showed itself in little lines that
coursed about her mouth, and her eyes illumined as when a light shines
through a window.

"Yes," answered Fortner. "Like hounds, and run clean ter the Ford, whar
they're now a-fouten an' strugglin to git acrost, and drowndin' like so
many stampeded cattle."

"Glory! Thank God!" said Aunt Debby. Her earnestness expressed itself
more by the intensity of the tone than its rise.

"Evidently a tolerable regular attendant at Methodist camp-meetings,"
thought Harry, rousing a little from the torpor into which he was
falling.

Her faded check flushed with a little confusion at having suffered this
outburst, and picking up her knitting she nervously resumed work.

Fortner looked wistfully at the bottom of his emptied bowl. Aunt Debby
took it away and speedily returned with it filled. She came back with an
air of eager expectancy that Fortner would continue his narrative. But
unsatisfied hunger still dominated him, and he had thoughts and mouth
only for food. She sad down and resumed her knitting with an apparent
effort at composing herself.

For a full minute the needles clicked industriously. Then they stopped;
the long, slender fingers clenched themselves about the ball of