end
told her of Molly Ludwig. At once Mrs. Irving saw and liked the buxom,
honest-faced country girl, and Molly being willing, she was taken back
to the Irvings' home. There she became a much respected member of the
family, as well as a valuable assistant, for Molly liked to work hard.
She could turn her hand to anything, from fine sewing, which she
detested, to scrubbing floors and scouring pots and pans, which she
greatly enjoyed, being most at home when doing something which gave
her violent exercise. Meals could have been served off a floor which
she had scrubbed, and her knocker and door-knobs were always in a high
state of polish.

But though she liked the housework which fell to her lot, it was
forgotten if by any chance the General began to talk of his
experiences on the battle-field. One day, when passing a dish of
potatoes at the noon meal, the thrilling account of a young
artilleryman's brave deed so stirred Molly's patriotic spirit that she
stood at breathless attention, the dish of potatoes poised on her hand
in mid-air until the last detail of the story had been told, then with
a prodigious sigh she proclaimed her fervent desire to be a soldier.

The General's family were not conventional and there was a hearty
laugh at the expense of the serving-maid's ambition, in which Molly
good-naturedly joined. Little did she dream that in coming days her
wish was to be fulfilled, and her name to be as widely known for deeds
of valor as that of the artilleryman who had so roused her enthusiasm.

So wholesome and energetic in appearance was Molly that she had many
admirers, some of them fired with a degree of practical purpose,
beyond their sentimental avowals. Molly treated them one and all with
indifference except as comrades until John Hays, the handsome young
barber of the town, much sought after by the girls of Carlisle, began
to pay her attention, which was an entirely different matter. Molly
grew serious-minded, moped as long as it was possible for one of her
rollicking nature to mope--even lost her appetite temporarily--then
she married the adoring and ecstatic Hays, and gave her husband a
heart's loyal devotion.

Of a sudden the peaceful Pennsylvania village was stirred to its quiet
center by echoes of the battle of Lexington, and no other subject was
thought of or talked about. All men with a drop of red blood in their
veins were roused to action, and Hays was no slacker. One morning he
spoke gently to