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Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 3 (search)
shoes. I will feel like a lady once more, with good shoes on my feet. I expect the poor Yank is glad to get away from Anderson on any terms. Although matters have improved somewhat with the cool weather, the tales that are told of the condition oution to fall upon us for letting such things happen. If the Yankees ever should come to South-West Georgia, and go to Anderson and see the graves there, God have mercy on the land! And yet, what can we do? The Yankees themselves are really more sday Misses Caro and Lou Bacon spent the day with us, but I could not enjoy their visit for thinking of the poor boy, Anderson, who has been sent to jail. He implored me — to beg missis to forgive him, and I couldn't help taking his part, though n account of this silly April-fooling. I don't think I ever enjoyed a day more in my life. It began happily, too, with Anderson's return from jail early in the morning, and peace-making with his missis. I expect we were all as glad of the poor dar
Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 4 (search)
there for the train to Cuthbert. The hotel was so uninviting that we stayed in the car, putting down the blinds and making ourselves as comfortable as we could. Capt. Warwick, who is stationed there, was very kind and attentive. He paid us a call in our impromptu parlor, and made some of his hands bring in buckets of water and sprinkle the floor to cool it off a little. Just before the train arrived on which we were to leave, there came one with 1,100 Yankee prisoners on their way from Anderson en route for Florida, to be exchanged. This was a mistake. The Confederacy having now practically collapsed, and the government being unable to care for them any longer, the prisoners remaining in the stockade were sent to Jacksonville, where the Federals were in possession, and literally forced back as a free gift on their friends. The guard fired a salute as they passed, and some of the prisoners had the impudence to kiss their hands at us-but what better could be expected of the
Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 8 (search)
any. I never was so tired in my life; every bone in my body felt as if it were ready to drop out, and my eyes were so heavy that I could hardly keep them open. I don't find doing housework quite so much of a joke as I imagined it was going to be, especially when we have company to entertain at the same time, and want to make them enjoy themselves. By the way, Mrs. Jordan says I was right in dusting the top shelves first, so the laugh is on the other side. After dinner Mrs. Jordan and Mary Anderson wanted to do some shopping, and then we went to make some visits. On our return home we met Dick and Emily, with their children, at the'front gate, going out to begin life for themselves. All their worldly possessions, considerably increased by gifts of poultry, meal, bacon, and other provisions-enough to last them till they can make a start for themselves, besides crockery and kitchen utensils that mother gave them, had gone before in a wagon. Dick's voice trembled as he bade me goo