. Famous adventures and prison escapes of the civil war . s well as shel-ter. In this plight I pressed on toward a light glim-mering faintly through the blinding snow. It led meinto the shelter of the porch to a small brown house,cut deeply beneath the low eaves, and protected at thesides by jflanking bedrooms. My knock was answeredby a girlish voice, and from the ensuing parley,through the closed door, I learned that she was thedaughter of a Baptist exhorter, and that she was alonein the house, her brother being away at the village, andher father, who preached the day before at some dis-tance
. Famous adventures and prison escapes of the civil war . s well as shel-ter. In this plight I pressed on toward a light glim-mering faintly through the blinding snow. It led meinto the shelter of the porch to a small brown house,cut deeply beneath the low eaves, and protected at thesides by jflanking bedrooms. My knock was answeredby a girlish voice, and from the ensuing parley,through the closed door, I learned that she was thedaughter of a Baptist exhorter, and that she was alonein the house, her brother being away at the village, andher father, who preached the day before at some dis-tance, not being expected home until the next by my civil-toned inquiries about the road,she unfastened the door and came out to the porch,where she proceeded to instruct me how to go on, whichwas just the thing I least desired to do. By this timeI had discovered the political complexion of the family, A HAKD ROAD TO TRAVEL OUT OF DIXIE 285 and, making myseK known, was instantly invited in,with the assurance that her father would be gravely. displeased if she permitted me to go on before he re-turned. I had interrupted my little benefactress in 286 ADVENTUKES AND ESCAPES IN THE CIVIL WAR the act of writing a letter, on a sheet of foolscap,which lay on an old-fashioned stand in one corner ofthe room, beside the ink-bottle and the the diagonal corner stood a tall bookcase, thecrowded volumes nestling lovingly behind the glassdoors—the only collection of the sort that I saw atany time in the mountains. A feather-bed was spreadupon the floor, the head raised by means of a turned-down chair, and here I was reposing comfortably whenthe brother arrived. It was late in the forenoon whenthe minister reached home, his rickety wagon creakingthrough the snow, and drawn at a snails pace by along-furred, knock-kneed horse. The tall but not veryclerical figure was wrapped in a shawl and swathedround the throat with many turns of a woolen daughter ran o
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