hould be called upon to fill up the thinned and broken ranks
of the Southern army filled their hearts with dismay. The old Squire,
with bushy brows beetling over his eyes, sat in grief too deep for
words, a prey to the darkest forebodings. Miss Jemima had wept until
her eyes were mere nothings, while her nose, coming gallantly to the
front, had assumed an undue prominence. Kate, with her pretty lips
drawn to keep down the rising sobs, tried all in vain to bestow upon
her twin brother bright looks and smiles, ever before so ready and
spontaneous. In the early secession days it had seemed such fun to
ride to dress parade and toss bouquets to the laughing "boys in
gray," while all the world played Dixie!

"Away down South in Dixie."

How she and Billy had whispered and plotted, and how great the triumph
when together they climbed the gate-post and, after much toil,
successfully planted their little red and white flag! But now, alas!
all was changed,--they were fast getting to be grown-up people, and
now her own dear Billy must go to help drive the Yankees out of Dixie.

As for Billy himself, a suppressed but exultant grin shone upon his
face, a trifle deprecating when in the presence of his grandfather or
his tearful Aunt Jemima, but very jubilant despite these drawbacks. In
truth this junior reserve was only too pleased to exchange the Latin
grammar for the musket, and little cared he for prospective hardships,
provided school were not among them.

In the few busy days before the departure, Kate followed Billy's
footsteps, trying in vain to share his elation. "Good gracious,
Kate," he would exclaim, when he discovered her furtively wiping her
eyes with her little damp ball of a pocket handkerchief, "don't be
such a little goose; why, what would you have a fellow do? I had no
idea that you were that sort of a girl." Then, as between laughing and
crying her face contorted itself into a sort of spasmodic grin, he
would say: "Now that's right, that's the way to do, if you'll just
cheer up, I'll be all right; the Yankees'll not bother me much, you
bet."

At the request of Serena (Billy's former nurse) her boy Cy was chosen
to accompany his young master as body servant, one of his chief
recommendations being that, naturally "skeary," he would be a safe
companion; also, as his mother proudly averred, he was the fastest
runner upon the plantation.

It was upon a golden evening in June that little Billy bade farewell
t