and the soldier. It seemed entirely satisfactory. And then Mam' Sarah told
Roberta they must hurry home on account of her mammy. "We kin cum back,
honey, en find him."

And come back they did. They found him and washed the blood away from the
poor mangled features, straightening out the twisted limbs as well as they
could. Roberta took charge of the little pocket Bible with his name
written on the fly-leaf, and the picture of his mother, such a stately,
beautiful lady. Albert Kurl's body was not the only one they looked for.
Mam' Sarah's tears fell like rain, as she went from one to another
searching for curly-haired Mars Charley, the little boy she nursed. She
would have known him, she was sure, no matter how he looked. But, thank
God, he was not there. She remembered so well the morning he rode off on
his prancing horse, with the bands playing Dixie.

"Charlie," called Aunt Betsy, "take this Bible with you."

"O Auntie," laughed the merry young fellow, "I can't, but I'll promise to
say, 'Now I lay me down to sleep' every night."

"O, what duz make fo'ks git so mad with ech other?" said Mam' Sarah. "It
will all cum rite, if they'll only hol' back en trust God."

Just before tea, Roberta ran down to uncle Squire's cabin, on the hill
back of the spring-house. She told him she had a secret for his ears
alone, made him look under the bed, the cup-board, chairs, and every
place, to be sure there were no eaves-droppers. Then she sat down on a
stool and slided it along towards him. He edged his chair a little closer
towards her, so by the time she began her communication their heads almost
touched. It was comical to see the old man's various facial expressions