toward this noble woman. How could anyone be more patriotic than she! Certainly, no one in that valley or upon that mountain!
It was the final hours, just before daylight, which were hardest for Sally. Stupidly, she opened the oven door, standing ready with her shovel to drag out crisp, browned pies and cakes, to place them for cooling upon the hearth away from the fire.
She could scarcely believe it was dawn when the candles flickered out and the few windows began to show silver-white in the smoke-darkened walls. Yawning, hardly knowing what she was doing, Sally set the table for an early breakfast and watched Mistress Williams preparing the breakfast porridge.
"Best call the boys!" said their mother finally. "Or, stay"—she gave the porridge spoon into Sally's limp hand—"I will call them. 'Tis—'tis for the last time—I shall—call—my boys!" And choking, she hurried from the room.
Sally stirred the porridge mechanically. It was almost as though death had entered this house! Truly, the war had sundered this family as completely as death! Truly, it was now neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, family against family! And Sally, sighing and stirring, nodded as she stirred.
