"Glorious news, sir!" cried Ransom one day as he came in to
dinner. "Glorious news! The first real news we have had in a
long time."
"What is it?" said my father; and "What, Ransom?" my mother
asked, with a kindling eye. My heart sank. Those know who
remember those times, how one's heart used to sink when news
came.
"What is it, Ransom?"
"Why, a large body of them, the Yankees, got across the
Potomac the night of the 20th; got in a nest of our
sharpshooters and were well riddled; then, when they couldn't
stand it any longer, they fell back to the river and tried to
get across again to the other side, where they came from; and
they had no means of getting across, nothing but a couple of
old scows; so they went into the water to get away from the
fire, and quantities of them were drowned, and those that were
not drowned were shot. Lost a great many, and their commanding
officer killed. That's the way. They'll have enough of it in
time. The war'll be over in a few weeks or months more. De
Saussure will not have time to raise his regiment. I don't
think, mamma, it's any use for me to go home, it'll be over so
soon."
"Where was this?" inquired my father.
"Some place - Ball's Bluff, I believe. It was a grand affair."
"How many did they lose?" my mother said.
"Oh, I don't know - some thousands. We lost nothing to speak
of. But the thing is, they will lose heart. They will never
stand this sort of thing. They have no officers, you know, and
they can have no soldiers. They will be obliged to give up."
Words were in my heart, but my lips knew better than to speak
them. Had they no officers? Had Christian no soldiers under
him? My head was ready to believe it; my heart refused. Yet I
thought too I had seen at the North the stuff that soldiers
are made of.
"If I were you," said my mother, "I would not let it all be
over before I had a part in it."
"The war is not ended yet, Felicia," my father remarked; "and
it will take more than a few hard knocks to make them give
up."
"They have had nothing but hard knocks, sir, since it began,"
Ransom cried.
"Your father always takes a medium view of everything," my
mother said. "If it depended on him, I believe there would be
no war."
"I should have one other vote for peace," papa said, looking
at me.
"It is well Daisy was not born a boy!" Ransom said.
"I hope you will not make me wish you had been born a girl,"
my father replied. "Strength is no more noble when it ceases
to be gentle."