the birds. They don't wait fer ye. [Hangs gun on wall, drops
into his chair, dejectedly.] Them pigs has got to be butchered.

MARY. Wait till I git a chance t' go t' sister's. I can't stand
it t' hear 'em squeal.

THADDEUS [pulling off his boots, grunting meanwhile]. Best go
soon then, 'cause they's fat as they'll ever be, an' there ain't
no use in wastin' feed on 'em. [Pause, rises.] Ain't ye most
ready fer bed?

MARY. Go on up.

[THADDEUS takes candle in one hand, boots in other; moves toward
stairs.]

An', Thad, try not t' snore to-night.

THADDEUS [reaching the landing]. Hit me if I do. [Disappears from
view.]

[MARY fills the kettle with water and puts it on the stove;
closes the door back; takes the lantern from the wall, tries
twice before she succeeds in blowing it out. Puts the lantern on
the table before the cubby-hole. Drags herself up the stairs,
pausing a moment on the top step for breath before she disappears
from sight. There is a silence. Then the door back is opened a
trifle and a man's hand is seen. Cautiously the door is opened
wide, and a young NORTHERN SOLDIER is silhouetted on the
threshold. He wears a dirty uniform and has a bloody bandage tied