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Written for Burke’s Weekly.
ELLEN HUNTER:
A STORY O F T H E WA R .
dedicated to the children of the south by one
WIIO HAS BEEN AN EYE-WITNESS TO THEIR
SORROWS AND THEIR SUFFERINGS.
BY BYRD LYTTLE, OF VIRGINIA,
CHAPTER 11.
KATE MORS ON ,
was walking slow
: vly down Franklin-street
when she was joined by
one of her little friends—
Kate Morson.
YlT' “ Oh, Ellen,” she said, “have you
heard the news? We are going
\ uive a war > f be b °y s are
I going 10 be dressed in uniforms,
and may be they will have to fight in this
very street,”
“Ivate, please don’t talk so. How
can you feel so glad ? It makes me
feci sick to hear about it.”
“Os course I’m glad,” said Kate.
“ Don’t you suppose I want to see
our boys whip those good-for-noth
ing mean Yankees, and I know they
are going to do it, if they ever get
a chance.”
“ But I am afraid somebody will
be hurt,” said Ellen. “ I cannot
think about anything but that.”
Kate burst out laughing at hear
ing this, and said :
“Get hurt! I should say there
will, but it will be mostly Yankees,
and it will serve them right. I
should like to know what business it is of
their’s if we choose to have slaves?”
“Is that what they are going to fight
about?” said Ellen. “I don’t think that
is worth having our brothers killed and
wounded for.”
“You little goose,” said Kate, “who
said our brothers were going to be killed
and wounded ? Don’t you know the Yan
kees are not going to fight ? Jlist as soon
as they see our boys coming, they are all
going to run, and just won’t we give it to
them, then ?”
Ellen laughed as she saw Kate, in her
excitement, almost run over a poor old
Aunty with her basket of chips.
“ Beg your pardon, Aunty,” said Kate,
"I was just showing Ellen how we were
going to whip the Yankees.”
“ Bress your soul, honey, it don’t make
no particle ob difference; I ain’t hurt
n< >ne, and now you’se done pick up my
ebips for me, I’se all right again ; only
next time, my little mistis, don’t take a
poor old nigger like me for a Yankee.”
And old Aunt Betsey went off, chuck-
BURKE’S WEEKLY-
ling at her own wit, leaving both of the
children laughing heartily.
They soon reached the school room
door, and t hey had no sooner entered than
they found the whole school in a great
state of excitement. The girls made a
rush at Ellen and Kate, to tell them the
news, and ask if they had heard anything
more.
“Os course we havej” said Kate. “Mr.
Lincoln has just sent over two ‘gentle
men’ to try and find out if we are going
to fight sure enough, and they have gone
back this morning to tell him that every
man, woman and child at the South is
going to fight until we whip the Yankees.
Ask Ellen, if you don’t believe me; her
father saw them.”
“ Oh, Kate,” said Ellen, “ how can you
say so? No, indeed, girls,” she added, “I
have not heard anything about the war;
it is too dreadful to think about even.
SCENE ON THE SAVANNAH RIVER.
But there is the bell, so we must go into
school.”
The lessons for the day proceeded as
usual, and at recess Ellen remained at her
desk writing an exercise. She did not
like to talk about the war, and that was
the only subject of conversation among
the girls. As she was going home, after
school, she felt a hand laid gently on her
shoulder, and heard her father’s voice say :
“What is my little daughter thinking
about, that she did not notice her own
father?”
“ I am thinking about the war, father,
and trying to find out what it is all
about.”
“If you wait until this evening, my
child,” said Dr. Hunter, “ I will tell you
what you wish to know; so take that
troubled look off from your face now, and
let us think and talk of something more
cheerful.”
Ellen was devoted to her father, and a
walk with him was one of her greatest
pleasures, so she soon looked bright and
happy again, and on reaching her own
door would scarcely have been recognized
as the thoughtful little girl who had left
school a short time before.
Ellen thought she would study her les
sons in the afternoon, so that she might
have a nice long talk with her father in
the evening; but everything seemed to
be against her having her wish gratified.
Mrs. Hunter, who was very delicate, gen
erally rode out every afternoon, and al
most always took her younger children
with her, but unfortunately this was one
of her mother’s sick days, and in order to
keep the house perfectly quiet, Ellen had
to take Bessie and Charlie with her, and
devote her time to their amusement.
I expect most of my little readers know
what it is to “take care of children.” It
is quite a troublesome job when you can
romp and play with them, but when you
have to keep them perfectly quiet, and
interest them at the same time, it is a
very difficult task. However,Ellen
was a kind-hearted child, and but
for the disappointment of not being
able to learn her lessons before the
time her father would wish her to
be with him, she would have rather
liked having charge of her little
brother and sister.
She took Bessie and Charlie into
the dining-room, and then said :
“Now, Bessie, you are the oldest,
tell me what you had rather we
should do this evening.”
“ I don’t want to stay here in this
old dining-room,” said Bessie, half
crying. “I want to go up stairs to
play.”
“But, Bessie, you must stay in here;
you will disturb mother if you go up
stairs. If you promise to keep still I will
tell you a story.”
“ I ain’t going to keep still,” said Char
lie ; “ I want to put the chairs in a row
and jump on them.”
“Oh, Charlie,” said Ellen, “ that would
make entirely too much noise. You don’t
want to make mother’s headache, do
you ?”
“No, I don’t,” said Charlie. “What’s
the use of asking a fellow such a question
as that ? —but I don’t want to hear any
of your baby stories, either.”
“ Very well,” said Ellen, “you need not
listen, if you don’t choose, but lam going
to tell Bessie a beautiful story.”
After Bessie found that Charlie was go
ing to be bad, she thought she would be
good, so coming up to Ellen she seated
herself at her feet on a little cucket, and
put her head on her sister’s lap. Charlie
stood looking out of the window, pretend
ing not to listen, but hearing every word
ofthe story of “ Sally’s Kitten.”
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