“He was off in Firginny at his uncle’s when de sho-nough war broke out. Old Marster had done made up his company in we-all’s settlement an’ was most raidy to go. De very same day dat de guns come dat dey was waitin’ on, who shall ride up on a hoss des reekin’ wid sweat but Marse Eddie. He lef’ de hoss in de front yard an’ run in de dinin’ room whar his maw an’ sister was. He kissed um mighty quick an’ strange like an’ den say, ‘Whar is father?’
“Old Miss an’ young Miss bofe turn pale an’ trembly, but dey ain’t say a word at fust. Den Marse Eddie say powerful impatient, ‘Grace, whar is father?’
“‘He’s down in de quarter,’ she say an’ den when de boy done lef’ de room most as quick as a skeerd rabbit kin jump, de two women look one ’nother in de face fer a long time powerful still an’ troubled. Den old Miss say, mighty husky in ’er throat:
“‘He must not go, Grace; I carn’t stand it; he’s too young—I carn’t stand dat!’
“De tears was comin’ in young Miss’ eyes an’ she left ’er maw an’ went an’ stood in de kitchen do’ to meet Marse Eddie an’ his paw as dey was comin’ up de garden walk, talkin’ low an’ arm in arm. Somehow young Marster looked like he was all at once as old an’ ’sponsible as his paw. When dey was bofe in de house, Miss Grace tuck ’er brurr by de arm an’ led ’im off to one side, an’ I heer ’er say:
“‘Brurr Eddie, father is goin’ off to fight de Yankees an’ me’n mother carn’t live by ourse’ves. You must stay wid us—one is enough to lose.’
“‘Oh, sister,’ Marse Eddie say, very impatient. ‘Don’t talk nonsense at sech a serious moment. Father, did you say all yo’ men gwine be raidy in de mawnin’? We must not had no mistakes. I’m not tired. I believe I’ll git a fresh hoss an’ ride round mongst ’em.’
“Well, suh, dat was de end o’ de women folks tryin’ to ’fluence ’im. It seem to me dat he was every bit an’ grain as sensible as his pa. It look like Marster was too backward ’bout tryin’ to make ’im stay at home. De next day all marched off an’ dey tuck all de men slaves ’cep’ me. Dey lef’ me kase I was too lame to march an’ somebody had to stay at home.
“Den a whole year went by. Sometimes letters ud come an’ sometimes word ud reach us in one way an’ another. Den old Miss tuck down sick, an’ Miss Grace kept all de bad news from ’er ’bout de war. Den come a letter from Marse Eddie hisse’f. He writ dat he is a little wounded in de arm an’ dat he got a furlough to come home an’ will be wid us as soon as he kin git thoo de lines. But de time went by, day in, day out fur a week an’ no mo’ news ’cep’ old Marster writ dat de boy is done put out fur home some time back; so dar we is—old Marster say he ain’t in de war, an’ he ain’t got to we-all.
“While we-all in dis fix an’ worriment, de Yankee army des swoop down on us lake a swarm o’ grass-hoppers. Dar wasn’t a single Rebel ’cep’ women folks an’ me anywhars around. Den we know dat Marse Eddie is cut off fum us. While de Yankees is camped round us as thick as fleas, a old man come to us, he did, an’ said he’d met up wid Marse Eddie one day up in de mountains what you kin see over dar, an’ ’at he was mighty nigh starved to death an’ unable to git stuff to eat.