"New York State."
"I reckon that's a right sma't way from here. Well, I won't turn yo' out if yo' are the first cousin to Beelzebub such a night as this. Are you hungry?"
"I am. But I won't disturb you. If you'll let me lie down here on the floor, I'll wait until you have your breakfast."
"Yo'll do nothin' of the kind," said the woman brusquely.
"Do you want me to leave now?"
"Who said anything about your leavin'?" she demanded sharply.
"I did," said Noel.
"Well, I'm goin' to dry yo' out first. Yo' 're one mass of mud from head to heels. Yo' all go into that room," she added, pointing as she spoke to another little room that opened out of the kitchen, "and put your clothes outside the door. I reckon I'll have to bake 'em, before I ever can get 'em clean."
The woman's friendliness was so manifest that in spite of his suspicions Noel promptly decided to obey.
"Don't yo' be afraid," continued the woman, when Noel at last had carried out her directions, and had thrown his soaked and muddy uniform outside the door, as she had suggested. "I'm goin' to look out for yo'. Yo' aren't much more 'n a baby, anyway. I wonder that your mother should ever let yo' come so far away from home. Much good yo' can do, fighting these secesh! Now, yo' get into bed and when I have your breakfast cooked I'll set it here by the door. Yo' can help yourself then, and after yo' have had all yo' want, yo' get back into bed an' stay there until I tell yo' to get up. I'm thinkin' the bed is about as safe a place as yo' can find in these days. It's been nothin' but soldiers marchin' up and down, back and forth, in and out, to and fro, for the past week! They seem to be goin' about like old Satan and roarin' like a lion seekin' whom they may devour."