A Yankee Girl at Fort Sumter

								

"It belongs to the United States, of which South Carolina is one,"
replied the Captain.
Sylvia gave a little sigh of satisfaction. Even Elinor Mayhew could not
find any fault with that, she thought, and she was eager to get home
and tell Grace what the Captain had said.
On the way back Sylvia asked her mother if she knew that there was a
song with her name in it.
"Why, of course, dear child. You were named for that very Sylvia,"
replied her mother.
"'Then to Sylvia let us sing,

    That Sylvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing

    Upon the dull earth dwelling;
To her let us garlands bring'"--
sang Mrs. Fulton; "and you can thank your father for choosing your
name," she added gaily.
"Oh! But Grace said it was about spelling," explained Sylvia; "but I
like your way best," she added quickly.
There were a good many pleasant things for Sylvia to think of that
night. Not every girl could be named out of a song, she reflected. Then
there was the little colored girl Estralla, who was to arrive the next
day, and besides these interesting facts, she had discovered who really
owned the forts, and could tell her schoolmates on Monday. All these
pleasant happenings made Sylvia forgetful of Elinor Mayhew's
unkindness. Before bedtime she had learned the words of the song from
which she was named. She knew Grace would think that "excelling" was
much better than "spelling."

CHAPTER II
A NEW FRIEND

The next morning Sylvia was awakened by a tapping on her chamber door.
Usually Jennie, the colored girl who helped Aunt Connie in the work of
the house, would come into the room before Sylvia was awake with a big
pitcher of hot water, and Sylvia would open her eyes to see Jennie
unfastening the shutters and spreading out the fresh clothes. So this
morning she wondered what the tapping meant, and called out: "Come in."
The door opened very slowly and a little negro girl, with a round
woolly head and big startled eyes, stood peering in. She was
barefooted, and wore a straight garment of faded blue cotton.
For a moment the two children stared at each other. Then Sylvia
remembered that Aunt Connie's little girl was coming to live with her
mother.
"Are you Estralla?" she asked eagerly, sitting up in bed.
"Yas, Missy," replied the little darky, lifting the big pitcher of
water and bringing it into the room, where she stood holding it as if
not knowing what to do next.
"Set the pitcher down," said Sylvia.
"Yas, Missy," said Estralla, her big eyes fixed on the little white
girl in the pretty bed who was smiling at her in so friendly a fashion.
She took a step or two forward, her eyes still fixed on Sylvia, and not
noticing the little footstool directly in front of her, over which she
stumbled with a loud crash, breaking the pitcher and sending the hot
water over her bare feet.
"Oh, Mammy! Mammy! Mammy!" she screamed, lying face downward on the
floor with the overturned footstool and broken pitcher, while the