'My old man; he says one on our boys can lick five of your Yankee men.'
'Perhaps so. Is your husband away from home?'
'Yes, him and our Cal. ar down to Charles'n.'
'Cal. is your son, is he?'
'Yes, he's my oldest, and a likely lad he ar tu—He's twenty-one, and his name ar John Calhoun Mills. He's gone a troopin' it with his fader.'
'What, both gone and left you ladies here alone?'
'Yes, the Cunnel sed every man orter go, and they warn't to be ahind the rest. The Cunnel—Cunnel J.—looks arter us while they is away.'
'But I should think the Colonel looked after you poorly—giving you nothing to eat.'
'Oh! it's ben sech a storm to-day, the gals couldn't go for the vittles, though tain't a great way. We'r on his plantation; this house is his'n.'
This last was agreeable news, and it occurred to me that if we were so near the Colonel's we might push on, and get there that night, in spite of the storm; so I said,—