Daisy In The Field

"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."