"He is my own grandson," said the old lady. "The night before he went he came here, and I told him never to fight against his country—the country his forefathers fought for. He said, 'Grandmother, they will call me a coward if I don't go.' A coward! I would let them call me anything, I told him, before I would fight against my country. But he went. And, now, what do you tell me? He is my own grandson—my own flesh and blood—so I can't wish him killed," said the old lady, with great feeling; "but, I thank God—I thank God he has had to run for his life!"
Our early dinner finished, Mr. Magness took his departure, and we started.
"We will stop at my brother-in-law's, captain," said Mr. Wade, "and get you a better saddle. It is only a mile from here." So we rode quietly along.
"We will pass our member of Assembly," said Mr. Wade. "It is about a mile from my brother-in-law's. He is a true man, I tell you. The secesh would give anything to get him."
By this time we reached his brother-in-law's. A little girl was in the yard, and, as we stopped, came to the gate.
"Well, uncle," said the little girl, "are you running away again from the rebel soldiers?"
"No," said Mr. Wade, cheerfully, "—oh no: there are no rebels round now."
"Yes, there are," said the girl. "Father has just come from Farmington, and there are four hundred there."
"What! four hundred in Farmington!"