hile she
mixed the biscuits and broke the eggs into a frying-pan greased with bacon
gravy. Plump, hearty, with a full double chin and cheeks like winter
apples, she moved briskly from the wooden safe to the slow fire, which she
stirred with determined gestures.

"It's time this war had stopped, anyhow," she remarked as she slapped the
eggs up into the air and back again into the pan. "An' if General Lee ever
rides along this way I mean to tell him that he ought to have one good
battle an' be done with it. Thar's no use piddlin' along like this twil
we're all worn out and thar ain't a corn-field pea left in Virginny. Look
here (to Big Abel), you set right down on that do' step an' I'll give you
something along with yo' marster. It's a good thing I happened to look
under the cow trough yestiddy or thar wouldn't have been an egg left in
this house. That's right, turn right in an' eat hearty--don't mince with
me." Big Abel, cowed by her energetic manner, seated himself upon the door
step, and for a half-hour the woman ceaselessly plied them with hot
biscuits and coffee made from sweet potatoes.

"You mustn't think I mind doing for the soldiers," she said when they took
their leave a little later, "but I've a husban' with General Lee and I
can't bear to see able-bodied men stragglin' about the country. No, don't
give me nothin'--it ain't worth it. Lord, don't I know that you don't git
enough to buy a bag of flour." Then she pointed out the way again and they
set off with a well-filled paper of luncheon.

"Beware of hasty judgments, Big Abel," advised Dan, as they strolled along
the road. "Now that woman there--she's the right sort, though she rather
took my breath away."

"She 'uz downright ficy at fu'st," replied Big Abel, "but I d'clar dose
eggs des melted in my mouf like butter. Whew! don't I wish I had dat ole
speckled hen f'om home. I could hev toted her unner my arm thoo dis wah des
es well es not."

The sun was well overhead, and across the landscape the heavy dew was
lifted like a veil. Here and there the autumn foliage tinted the woods in
splashes of red and yellow; and beyond the low stone wall an old sheep
pasture was ablaze in goldenrod. From a pointed aspen beside the road a
wild grapevine let down a fringe of purple clusters, but Big Abel, with a
full stomach, passed them by indifferently. A huge buzzard, rising suddenly
from the pasture, sailed slowly across the sky, its heavy shadow skimming
the field be