They called to the man, a typical Virginia farmer in his shirt sleeves, tall and spare, short whiskers growing under his chin. There was not much difference between him and his brother farmer in New England.
“Good-day,” said Warner.
“Good-day.”
“You seem to be working hard.”
“I've need to do it. Farm hands are scarce these days.”
“Farming is hard work.”
“Yes; but it's a lot safer than some other kinds men are doin' nowadays.”
“True, no doubt, but have you seen anything of the army?”
“What army?”
“The one under Lee and Jackson, the rebel army.”