"Oh, come, Mrs. H., come quickly! come quickly! They are killing my child! they are killing my child!"
Tears were pouring in a stream from the poor mothers eyes, and it seemed as though her very heart would break from anguish. Mrs. H. could stand it no longer, and stepping out on her own back porch, which adjoined that of Mrs. D.'s, called out for Mrs. D., and when she appeared, asked her what was the cause of such awful screaming.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," answered Mrs. D. "It's only Jane, whom Mr. D. is punishing for looking out of the windows at the soldiers as they pass. I have told her again and again that she should not do it, and yet she will persist in it."
"But," said Mrs. H., "was that all? Surely a young girl like her could hardly do otherwise than look out of the windows when she heard music and saw soldiers passing? Did she do nothing else, Mrs. D.?"
"No, nothing else," answered Mrs. D.; "but Mr. D. says if she and her mother are allowed to look out of the windows at the soldiers, they will soon be wanting to run away, and therefore we must not allow them to look out."
"They don't neglect their work, do they, Mrs. D.?" asked Mrs. H.
"Oh, no," answered Mrs. D. "They are both most excellent servants, and never neglect their work; but hav-ing these Yankee soldiers in the city will, we fear, make them want to run away, and it is only to prevent them from getting any such foolish notion in their heads that we have forbid them to look out at the windows."
"Have you had to punish them often for disobeying the order?" asked Mrs. H.
"Oh, no, not often," answered Mrs. D. "This is only the fifth time, I think, that Mr. D. has had to whip Jane since the Yankee soldiers came into the city, and her mother has only needed three punishments for the same offence. Take them all in all, there are, I think, few better servants in Alexandria than Jane and Mary."
This ended the conversation between the two ladies at that time, and Mrs. H. returned to her own parlors a sadder, if not a wiser, woman. Within a half hour Mrs. H. heard still louder and more piercing cries, and the voice this time was plainly that of Jane's mother. Stepping to and opening one of her back parlor-windows, she could distinctly hear the conversation between Mr. D. and Mary, which seemed to come from the garret of the house, the back dormer-windows of which chanced to be open.