A Yankee Girl at Shiloh

								

musical trills and clear song. Even in January they could be heard
near the cabin; not with their springtime song, but with soft notes
and hopeful calls. The little girl often put bits of bread and cake on
the porch rail, and it was not long before the birds had discovered
this unexpected bounty and came fluttering down to look for it; and
gradually the family had all made friends among their bird neighbors,
giving them names, and keeping a sharp outlook for the young birds who
were their springtime visitors.
“What are you going to do to-day, Father?” Berry questioned as they
came in sight of the log building that stood on the crest of the ridge.
“I am going to fix the benches. Some of them are dropping to pieces,”
responded her father. “I have a good store of fine oak wood dry and
ready for use in the shed near the church, and we can soon make the
old seats as good as new.”
“And may I put the new rail on the pulpit? I have polished it until
it shines like glass,” said Berry, as they came out into the little
clearing in which the church stood.
“Of course,” her father agreed, smiling down at his little daughter’s
eager face. He was well pleased that Berry found pleasure in the
outdoor life, that she was learning to do many things that little
girls seldom have an opportunity to learn, and that she was as active
and healthy as it was possible for a girl to be.
Before beginning the work he had planned Mr. Arnold stood looking
at the wild country spread out before him. “Look, Berry,” he said,
pointing to a ravine on the left, along which ran the main road to
Corinth. “This spot is like a picture in a frame,” he continued, “the
little streams of Owl Creek and Lick Creek, the road to Corinth, and
the Tennessee River making the frame. It would make a safe camp for an
army,” he added thoughtfully, but without an idea that within three
months that very spot would be the scene of one of the most important
battles of the Civil War; or that his little daughter who stood so
quietly beside him would, by her courage and endurance, have rendered
a great service to the cause of the Northern forces.
They had walked a long distance, and seated themselves on the broad
step of the chapel for a rest.
“It is nearly noon; I’ll start our fire and get lunch under way,” said
Mr. Arnold. But Berry was eager to do this; for she knew exactly how
to lay a fire in the open; how to bake potatoes in hot ashes, and to
broil bacon over the coals; and to set the tin pail, in which they
made coffee, where it would boil slowly.
“All right,” agreed Mr. Arnold, “I’ll fetch the wood.”
Berry ran along the ridge to where a granite ledge made a good shelter
for a blaze, and in a short time a little curl of smoke crept into the
air, and the appetizing odor of broiling bacon and of fragrant coffee
made Mr. Arnold declare that he was “hungry as a bear,” greatly to
Berry’s delight.