Yankee Belles in Dixie Read Online Free PDF

time. Then it had become a jail, a makeshift one. Little effort had been spent on it, Jeff saw, and it was in a dilapidated condition.
    Simpkins shook his head. “No, sir, you’ll have to go get a pass.”
    Jeff felt like arguing, but Mr. Carter said quickly, “All right, we’ll do what we can, Lieutenant. Thank
    you.”
    When they were outside, Jeff burst out, “It wouldn’t hurt him to let us in to see my pa.”
    â€œJeff,” Leah said quickly, looking around, “don’t tell people that he’s your pa. Just say it’s a friend.”
    â€œThat’s right,” her father said. “It would be harder to get a pass for a relative.”
    * * *
    Â Â Â They didn’t know that Lieutenant Simpkins had become totally suspicious of any visitors. His brother had been killed at Bull Run, and he hated all Southerners. Being in charge of the guard detail that ringed the Old Prison, he took it upon himself to turn away as many visitors as possible.
    Turning now to the corporal who was standing at attention next to him, he said, “You see those three?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œIf you see them again, tell me about it.”
    The corporal was a tall, thin, young man of eighteen, who had seen no action at all since being inthe army. The thought of spies excited him. He said, “You think they could be spies?”
    â€œCall me
sir
, Corporal!
Sir!”
Simpkins gave the soldier a withering glance. “I’m not taking any chances. If they come around here again, you come and tell me about it at once.”
    â€œYes, sir, I’ll do that.” When the lieutenant was gone, the tall, thin soldier stared at the three visitors as they departed. “Spies … well, I’ll be … sure would like to catch me a couple or three spies!”

4
A Good Yankee
    L eah found Jeff sitting under the shade of a towering oak staring moodily across the small meandering stream. For two days she had watched him grow more and more disappointed as no way was found to pay a visit to his father. Sitting down beside him on the log, she said, “Jeff, come along with Pa and me.”
    â€œWhere you going?” he asked morosely.
    â€œThey’re having a preaching service, and they say the preacher is really fine. He’s one of the chaplains of the regiment.”
    Jeff picked up a stone, examined it for a moment, then threw it almost viciously in front of a squirrel that was scavenging along the ground. The squirrel jumped straight up and turned a back flip, which caused both of them to laugh. “Well, I guess that’ll be all right,” he said grudgingly, “but I don’t put much stock in what any Yankee preacher would say.”
    He rose to his feet, and they wandered back to the wagon, where they found Leah’s father putting on a clean white shirt.
    â€œAlways like to wear a clean shirt to go to meet-in’.” He smiled at them. “Come along now. We don’t want to be late.”
    They made their way through the city of tents and came at last to an open space already filled with blue uniforms.
    â€œMy, that’s a big congregation,” Leah said, staring over the crowd of soldiers. She looked up to where a small platform had been built. “That’s him—Chaplain Marcus Patterson. They say he’s bringing revival to the Union army.”
    Jeff saw a slight young man of perhaps thirty, wearing an officer’s uniform. He had red hair and a small, trim mustache and beard.
    â€œHe’s not as fat as some of the preachers we had back home, is he?”
    â€œI don’t guess he has the chance to sit down and eat fried chicken as much. They say he’s on the go all the time,” she replied. “I think the meeting’s going to start.”
    A tall sergeant stood up then and, without saying a word, began to sing. He had a clear tenor voice, and soon the clearing was filled with