Before the morning lesson hours were over Mollie had learned that Washington was the capital of the United States, where laws for the government of the Union were made. That the terrible war between the Southern and Northern States, with Francis Arnold in the Northern army and Len Bragg with the Southern troops, meant that the South wished to “secede,” to leave the Union, and form a new government. If the Northern armies won, the negroes would be freed, and the North and South remain a united nation. If the South conquered the North, slavery would continue, and there would be two separate governments.
“My Pa says the South will win,” Mollie announced. “He says they beat the Yankees at Bull Run,” she continued.
“Yes, the Southern troops are valiant fighters,” Mr. Arnold agreed; for he never forgot that the Union had been formed by South and North alike, and he hoped earnestly for a peace that would again unite them in a firm and lasting friendship.
Then, while Berry was learning the rules of a lesson in algebra, Mollie happily began her first effort in writing. The slate and pencil seemed a wonderful thing to the little mountain girl, and she patiently endeavored to copy the lines and letters that Mr. Arnold traced for her.
The clock struck twelve, and Mr. Arnold again tinkled the small brass bell, and said smilingly, “Pupils are expected to be in the schoolroom at ten sharp to-morrow morning.” As he finished speaking the door into the kitchen opened and Mrs. Arnold said:
“This is Mollie’s birthday dinner party, so she must lead the way to the table.”
“O-ooh!” Mollie whispered softly to herself, a little flush creeping over her thin face as Berry gave her a gentle push toward the kitchen, where the round table was spread for four, and where Mollie’s chair held the newspaper bundle containing the doll.
Mollie Bragg always remembered her eleventh birthday; and she always treasured the cloth doll, the only one she ever owned, and which she at once named “Mrs. Arnold.” There were broiled partridge for dinner, that Mr. Arnold had shot in the ravine two days before; and baked potatoes; there were spiced pears, that Mrs. Arnold had put up the previous autumn; and crisp hot rolls and steaming chocolate, a great luxury. And then a marvelous thing happened.
When Mollie believed that the dinner was quite over, and was again holding “Mrs. Arnold,” and almost too happy to believe in so much good fortune, Mrs. Arnold went to the pantry and came back bringing a round white-frosted cake, on which stood eleven tiny pink lighted candles.
“O-o-ooh!” again murmured Mollie, as Mrs. Arnold set this wonderful creation in front of her little guest.