“It’s the turning point of the war,” said Mr. Huntsworth. “It cannot be long surely before Lee will surrender.”
“It would seem so,” cried Dick with exultation. “But who can withstand us? We have freed the negroes! We have taken New Orleans, Vicksburg, the mighty, has fallen, and Lee’s army defeated in his invasion of free soil. Hurrah!
“‘In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free,
While God is marching on!’”
he broke out boyishly. Mr. Huntsworth joined in and soon another and another took up the terrible Battle Hymn of the Republic until it rolled in one grand volume above the rush of the train.
“Jeanne, there’s father,” cried Dick as the train drew in at the Cincinnati station.
The girl looked out to see both Mr. and Mrs. Vance standing on the platform watching the outcoming people eagerly.
With a cry of thankfulness she darted forward and flung herself into her mother’s arms.