“As this would give us an extra week’s holiday we hailed the letter with joy. The girls stood about enviously watching us pack our carpetbags and Rebecca’s trunk. I packed many of my things in her trunk to save the trouble of transporting two to Tennessee. We left the next morning ’midst shouts reminding us to be sure to be on hand when school re-opened.
“We enjoyed the journey during the first part of the way, but, as the train sped on, the country showed signs of the desolation wrought by war, and we sobered from our happy laughter to serious contemplation.
“The nearer to Nashville that we came, the deeper the evidence that war was an awful thing. We saw burned homes, devastated land and forlorn-looking families as we passed by.
“Rebecca’s father met us at the station in Nashville and welcomed me with a surprised manner. Turning to his daughter, he spoke in a serious tone.
“‘We will endeavor to give your friend an enjoyable visit, daughter, but it doesn’t seem promisin’. Evidently you did not receive our telegram?’
“‘Only this letter, father,’ replied Becky, showing him the last letter received by her.
“‘Hum! well, we will live up to our reputation, Miss Selina, and be the true Southern hosts.’
“As we came out of the station and walked toward the carriage-posts, Rebecca looked about for the family equipage.
“Mr. Crudup led us toward a great spring wagon which was drawn by two raw-boned farm horses. An old darky sat on the front seat.
“‘Why, father! Surely we are not going home in this!’ cried Rebecca with deep chagrin.