Sairy threaded a needle. "All that's less lasting than some other things, they air. I reckon they'll leave a brighter streak than a deal of folk who aren't gaunt an' ragged an' shoeless an' dirty."
"I don't ever see them so," said Christianna, in her soft drawling voice. "I see them just like a piece we had in a book of reading pieces at school. It was a hard piece but, I learned it.
| "All furnished, all in arms, All plumed like estridges that with the wind Bated—like eagles having lightly bathed, Glittering in golden coats like images." |
"No. I reckon if Virginia don't mind, Maryland needn't."
Tom began again. "We've got a lovely camp here, and it's good to lie and rest on the green grass. The Army has had hard fighting and hard marching. Second Manassas was a big battle. It's in the air that we'll have another soon. Don't you worry about me. I'll come out all right. And if I don't, never forget that you did everything in the world for me and that I loved you and thought of you at the very last. Is living getting hard on Thunder Run? I fear so sometimes, for it's getting hard everywhere, and you can't see the end—I wish I had some pay to send you, but we aren't getting any now. This war's going to be fought without food or pay. Tell me, Aunt Sairy, just right honestly how you are getting on. It's getting toward winter. When I say my prayers I pray now that it won't be a hard winter. A lot of us are praying that. It's right pitiful, the men with wives and children at home, and the country growing to look like a desert.—But that's gloomy talk, and if there's one thing more than another we've got to avoid it's being gloomy!—Tell me everything when you write. Write to Winchester—that's our base of supplies and rendezvous now. Tell me about everybody on Thunder Run, but most of all tell me about yourselves. Give my very best regards to Christianna. She surely was good to me in Richmond. I don't know what I would have done without her. At first, before I—"
Sairy put out her hand. "Give it to me, Tom. I'll read the rest. You're tired."
"No, I'm not," said Tom.—"At first, before I came up with the Army, I missed her dreadfully."
Sairy rose, stepped from the porch, and turned the drying apples. Coming back, she touched the girl on the shoulder—very gently. "They're all fools, Christianna. Once I met a woman who did not know her thimble finger. I thought that beat all! But it's hard to match the men."
"You've put me out!" said Tom. "Where was I? Oh—At first, before I came up with the Army, I missed her dreadfully. Billy reminds me of her at times.—It's near roll call, and I must stop. God bless you both. Allan."
Tom folded the letter with trembling hands, laid it carefully atop of the others in the tin box, and took off and wiped his glasses. "Yes, if a letter didn't come every two weeks I'd go plumb crazy! I've got to hear him say 'dear Tom' that often, anyhow—"