"Why, father!" gasped the three "wimmen folks."
"Go down there among them gorillas?" ejaculated Mrs. Klegg.
"And John Morgan raiders," echoed Maria.
"And Secesh soljers, butternut brigands, rebel rascals," added Tilda.
"Well," answered Mr. Klegg, deliberately, "they've been peggin' away at Si for a good many months now, and they haven't killed him by a jug full. Guess I kin stand 'em for a few days. The papers say that the army's settled down at Murfreesboro' for the Winter, and that the railroad's runnin' all right from Looyiville clean there. I kin do nothin' 'round the farm for the next three or four weeks, till Spring opens, except the chores about the house, which Jimmie Watkins kin tend to as well as I kin. I've got all my fences in good shape, and split all the rails I need. There's wood enough cut to last the Winter out. I've hauled all the wheat to town I'm goin' to till prices go higher. I finished gittin' out my clover seed yesterday, and now there's nothin' left for a month but to do boy's work 'round the house, or talk politics down at the store. I'd rather go down and see Si."
"Why, father," remonstrated Mrs. Klegg, "how kin you ever git along in them camps, and live the way them soljers do?"
"You forgit," said her husband, with a touch of dignity, "that I druv team for a whole week in the Black Hawk war. I wanted to enlist, but I was too young. Then I turned out and drilled with the militia as long as there was any musters. I know a good deal more about war than you think."
"How do you s'pose you'll ever find Si in all that ruck o' men?" said Mrs. Klegg doubtfully.
"O, they all know Si by this time," returned the father confidently. "Besides, he's an officer now. I'll go right to Gen. Rosecrans's Headquarters. He's probably right near him, where he kin have him at any time. But don't write to Si that I'm comin'. I want to surprise him."
As soon as it was seen that the father was determined to go, mother and daughters entered upon the scheme with the greatest enthusiasm.