File:Famous adventures and prison escapes of the civil war (1893) (14572990860).jpg

Identifier: famousadventures93cabl (find matches)
Title: Famous adventures and prison escapes of the civil war
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors: Cable, George Washington, 1844-1925 Pittenger, William, 1840-1904 Richards, A. E. (Adolphus Edwards), 1844-1920 Duke, Basil Wilson, 1838-1916 Willcox, Orlando B Hines, Thomas Henry Moran, Frank E Shelton, W. H. (William Henry), 1840-1932? Wood, John Taylor
Subjects: Mosby, John Singleton, 1833-1916 Breckinridge, John C. (John Cabell), 1821-1875 Libby Prison Chattanooga Railroad Expedition, 1862 Morgan's Ohio Raid, 1863
Publisher: New York : The Century Co.
Contributing Library: University of Connecticut Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Connecticut Libraries

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s well as shel-ter. In this plight I pressed on toward a light glim-mering faintly through the blinding snow. It led meinto the shelter of the porch to a small brown house,cut deeply beneath the low eaves, and protected at thesides by jflanking bedrooms. My knock was answeredby a girlish voice, and from the ensuing parley,through the closed door, I learned that she was thedaughter of a Baptist exhorter, and that she was alonein the house, her brother being away at the village, andher father, who preached the day before at some dis-tance, not being expected home until the next morning.Reassured by my civil-toned inquiries about the road,she unfastened the door and came out to the porch,where she proceeded to instruct me how to go on, whichwas just the thing I least desired to do. By this timeI had discovered the political complexion of the family, A HAKD ROAD TO TRAVEL OUT OF DIXIE 285 and, making myseK known, was instantly invited in,with the assurance that her father would be gravely
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displeased if she permitted me to go on before he re-turned. I had interrupted my little benefactress in 286 ADVENTUKES AND ESCAPES IN THE CIVIL WAR the act of writing a letter, on a sheet of foolscap,which lay on an old-fashioned stand in one corner ofthe room, beside the ink-bottle and the candlestick.In the diagonal corner stood a tall bookcase, thecrowded volumes nestling lovingly behind the glassdoors—the only collection of the sort that I saw atany time in the mountains. A feather-bed was spreadupon the floor, the head raised by means of a turned-down chair, and here I was reposing comfortably whenthe brother arrived. It was late in the forenoon whenthe minister reached home, his rickety wagon creakingthrough the snow, and drawn at a snails pace by along-furred, knock-kneed horse. The tall but not veryclerical figure was wrapped in a shawl and swathedround the throat with many turns of a woolen tippet.The daughter ran out with eagerness to greet herfather and tell of the wonde

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