“Are you sure he’s dead, Lucy?”
“Yes! of course he is.”
John came down, and going to where the dead bear lay, he looked first at it, and then at his wife, ready, however, to start off on a run should the brute give any signs of life. After thus contemplating matters, he gave his collar a jerk, and exclaimed, proudly:
“Hurrah, Lucy, we’ve killed a big bear! blamed if we ain’t!”
So it is with the peace-men of to-day. They cry now loudly for peace, and whine about the unconstitutional arrest of a few tories. And when it is over, and freedom triumphs, their coward lips will boast of victories won over the legions of secession. Such are the Vallandigham traitors.
General Prentiss remained in close confinement until October 6th, and during the time he had been absent from our party. I had been taken with a severe illness, which obtained for me admission to a rear room of the prison, which was dignified by the name of a hospital. Here I enjoyed the privilege of drawing my allowance of corn-meal from the commissary, and taking it, or sending it, under guard, out to some one in the town, to have it cooked. I got a slave, called Aunt Susie, belonging to a widow, to attend to mine, and she did it well. I was forbidden to speak to her, however.
One day, Lieutenant Welsh came in with the report that Aunt Susie was having great trouble. I suspected the reason, but kept silent. The next day, feeling well enough, I obtained permission to take my own meal out to get it cooked. As it happened, two black boys were on guard, and one of these only accompanied me. He knew all about Aunt Susie’s sorrow, and, as he walked along, he said:
“Don’t b’lieve Aunt Susie ’ill be able to do your cookin’, sah.”
“Why?” asked I.
“Kase she’s in heaps o’ trouble, sah. You see, de sheriff sold her little boy an’ gal t’oder day, an’ she’s bin cryin’ eber since, as though her heart ’ud break.”