“Mrs. Force is not well, and Mr. Force is with her, I believe. Odalite went to show my two nieces to a room to take off their things,” discreetly answered the old sailor.
“What’s the matter along of Elfrida Force?”
“Well—she——I really don’t know. Not much, I hope.”
“I know. It’s trotting around so much. There’s where it is. When people gets to be past their prime, sez I, they ought to take care of what’s left of them, sez I. ‘Dancing bears,’ sez I, ‘must pay for their airs,’ sez I.”
“What sort of a time have you had since the war began, Miss Sibby?” inquired the old salt, with a view to take the visitor off dangerous ground.
But he “fell from the frying pan into the fire.”
The old lady’s face flushed, and her eyes snapped.
“Don’t ask me what sort of a time I’ve had! Old Scratch’s own time! What with being raided by first one party and then another, I have hardly a sheep or a pig or a duck or a hen left on the place. And what with being called a rebel by the Unioners and a traitor by the Confederers, I have hardly a morsel of self-respect or Christian charity left in my heart. And I haven’t a bit of respect for either party—not I! Clapper-clawing each other like a pack o’ wild cats for nothing in this world, as I can see, ’less it is because they haven’t got no furriners to clapper-claw. If free people can’t live peaceable in a free, healthy, plentiful country, sez I, the sooner they get the Turkey of Constantinople to rule over them the better, sez I.”
“You seem to be excited, Miss Sibby.”
“So would you be excited if you had suffered all that I have. First comes the Unioners and carries off all my pigs, and calls me a rebel because I object. And then comes the Confederers and carries off all my fowls, and calls me a traitor because I don’t see the right of it. Unioners and Confederers! I calls ’em Blue Bottle Flies and Gray Back Bugs, I do!”