every house for contraband articles, and soon would be at theirs.

"I should be very sorry," said Mrs. Marsden, "to have to give up the suit
of gray jeans I've made for Charlie and the dear boy's boots."

"You won't have to give them up, mamma," responded Roberta, who had lain
awake night after night, planning what she should do in the event the
soldiers came after them. Now what do you suppose she did? Pushed boots
and clothes to the very bottom of the flour-barrel under the flour. Not
even our own Yankee Bligh could have detected their whereabouts. Then she
dressed the gun up in baby clothes, with long white robe and cloak and
pretty baby cap; tied a veil over the cap. When she was through, it really
looked very much like a baby. She gave the gun to Polly, and told her to
walk up and down the porch with it and sing a lullaby. Polly didn't like
counterfeit babies any more than she liked real babies.

"Lawdy! Lawdy! Lawdy!" said Polly, "iz you rite sho', Lil Missus, thar
ain' nuffin' in it that's gwiner blow my head orf?"

"Right sure, Polly. Uncle Squire cleaned it out yesterday."

"O, Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy! I dunno howter ketch on ter de creeter, nohow.
I'd redder nuss real live babies, I wud."

"Be a good girl, Polly. Take hold this way. Now sing:

"Dear little baby, shut your eyes,
Stars are shining in the skies;
Soon an angel will at you peep,
Whisper to you while you sleep.