“And may I put the new rail on the pulpit? I have polished it until it shines like glass,” said Berry, as they came out into the little clearing in which the church stood.
“Of course,” her father agreed, smiling down at his little daughter’s eager face. He was well pleased that Berry found pleasure in the outdoor life, that she was learning to do many things that little girls seldom have an opportunity to learn, and that she was as active and healthy as it was possible for a girl to be.
Before beginning the work he had planned Mr. Arnold stood looking at the wild country spread out before him. “Look, Berry,” he said, pointing to a ravine on the left, along which ran the main road to Corinth. “This spot is like a picture in a frame,” he continued, “the little streams of Owl Creek and Lick Creek, the road to Corinth, and the Tennessee River making the frame. It would make a safe camp for an army,” he added thoughtfully, but without an idea that within three months that very spot would be the scene of one of the most important battles of the Civil War; or that his little daughter who stood so quietly beside him would, by her courage and endurance, have rendered a great service to the cause of the Northern forces.
They had walked a long distance, and seated themselves on the broad step of the chapel for a rest.
“It is nearly noon; I’ll start our fire and get lunch under way,” said Mr. Arnold. But Berry was eager to do this; for she knew exactly how to lay a fire in the open; how to bake potatoes in hot ashes, and to broil bacon over the coals; and to set the tin pail, in which they made coffee, where it would boil slowly.
“All right,” agreed Mr. Arnold, “I’ll fetch the wood.”
Berry ran along the ridge to where a granite ledge made a good shelter for a blaze, and in a short time a little curl of smoke crept into the air, and the appetizing odor of broiling bacon and of fragrant coffee made Mr. Arnold declare that he was “hungry as a bear,” greatly to Berry’s delight.
“Wouldn’t it be splendid if Francis was here?” she said, as she and her father began their luncheon.
“Not much hope of seeing Francis this winter,” replied Mr. Arnold.
“I hate war!” Berry declared, breaking open a well-baked potato, and proceeding to sprinkle salt on it. “If it were not for war Francis would be here this minute.”