recognizing the child.

"Well, you said it about General Morgan, and that's the same thing. My
Uncle Charlie is one of his captains, and I think General Morgan is the
bestest man that ever lived not to do something awful to you. If I was
you, I would turn over a new leaf, and stop writing bad things about
people, your neighbors, too; and the Bible says, 'Love your neighbors as
yourself.' Mamma read it to me last night."

Who was that dashing towards them in a cloud of dust? Dust whitening his
long, unkempt beard; whitening his brown, curly locks; belted all around
with pistols and knives; teeth glistening through his tawny mustache;
radiant, positively radiant with joy, as he leaped from his panting horse,
and fairly crushed the startled child in his arms? She screamed aloud in
nervous terror.

"O, you goosey!" said he, "don't you know Uncle Charlie?"

The next minute he had sprung on to the wagon wheel, squeezed old Squire's
hand until the bones snapped, and snatched up a hatful of russets,
craunching one of them between his white teeth, stopping after each bite
to ask questions about everybody at home. Well, I reckon there were never
three happier children than the three who returned home that afternoon,
with the tall soldier walking beside them, leading his horse, and eating
russet apples as fast as ever he could. Old Squire jolted slowly along
behind, grinning from ear to ear.

Uncle Charlie wouldn't sleep in the house that night, but wrapped himself
in his blanket and laid down on the ground under a great elm tree in the
corner of the yard, with his faithful horse close by. Mrs. Marsden and