WAR
Then she suddenly takes another tack.
"Daddy, sometimes I hear that the war can't last long any more. What do you think?"
"Well," I says, not very cheerful, "it's my opinion, that the war'll last as long as the South has anything to fight with. Gosh! Sometimes I almost wish 'em success—they are such grand fellows. No matter how many we kill there's always others a-coming. No matter how little they got to eat and wear, nor how little ammunition they got, they fight! Yes—as long as they can fight this war'll keep on."
She gives a long moan.
"What," I says, "you don't mean it?"
"Oh, daddy," she says, "if that is the only way to stop it, let us pray, as I do, that my people may soon—oh, very soon—have nothing left to fight with—men or guns or food!"
Think of that, will you, from such a rebel as Evelyn!
"Evelyn," says I, "that is serious from a rebel like you. Are you sick? Why is it? Stand fast by your colors!"
144
