A Yankee Girl at Fort Sumter

								

to dry. You can tell your mammy I gave you the dress. Now, run quick.
My mother may come."
Estralla stood quite still looking at Sylvia. She had stopped laughing.
"Will you' mammy scold you 'bout dat pitcher?" she asked.
"I don't know. Anyway, nobody shall know that you broke it. You won't
be whipped. Run along," urged Sylvia.
But Estralla did not move. "I don't keer if I is whipped," she
announced. "I guess, mebbe, my mammy won't whip hard."
"Sylvia, Sylvia," sounded her mother's voice, and both the little girls
looked at each other with startled eyes.
"Run," said Sylvia, giving Estralla a little push. "Run out on the
balcony." Estralla did not question the command, and in a moment,
carrying dress and towel, she had vanished through the open window.
"Why, child! What has happened?" exclaimed Mrs. Fulton, coming into the
room and looking at the overturned footstool, the pieces of the broken
pitcher, and at Sylvia standing in the middle of the floor with an
anxious, half-frightened expression.
"Don't look so frightened, dear child. A broken pitcher isn't worth
it," said Mrs. Fulton smilingly. "It's only hot water, and won't hurt
anything. Only Father is waiting for breakfast, so use cold water this
morning. Here is your blue muslin--I'll tie your sash when you come
down," and giving Sylvia a kiss her mother hurried away.
"My landy!" whispered Estralla, peering in from the balcony window.
"Your mammy's a angel. An' so is you, Missy. I was gwine tell her the
trufe if she'd scolded, I su'ly was. Landy! I'd a sight ruther be
whipped than have you scolded, Missy."
Sylvia looked at her in astonishment. Estralla, with round serious
eyes, stood gazing at her as if she was ready to do anything that
Sylvia could possibly ask.
"Run. It's all right," said Sylvia with a little smile, and Estralla,
with a backward look over her shoulder, went slowly out of the room.
"I'm gwine to recollect this jes' as long as I live," Estralla
whispered as she made her way back to the kitchen. "Nobuddy ever cared
if I was whipped before, or if I wasn't whipped. An' I'll do somethin'
fer Missy sometime, I will. An' she give me dis fine dress too." She
bent over and smoothed out one of the little ruffles, and chuckled
happily.
Her mammy was busy preparing breakfast when Estralla slid quietly into
the kitchen. When she did look around and saw the child wearing the
pink dress she nearly dropped the dish of hot bacon which Jennie was
waiting to take to the dining-room.
"Wha' on earth did you get you' pink dress? Did Missy give it to you?
Well, you step out to the cabin and take it off. This minute! Put you'
blue frock right on. Like as not her mammy won't let you keep it," and
Aunt Connie hurried Jennie off to the dining-room with the breakfast
tray.
Estralla did not know what to do. Her blue dress was hung over a
syringa bush behind the cabin. And at the dreadful thought that Mrs.
Fulton might take away the pink dress she began to cry.