"O, you goosey!" said he, "don't you know Uncle Charlie?"
The next minute he had sprung on to the wagon wheel, squeezed old Squire's
hand until the bones snapped, and snatched up a hatful of russets,
craunching one of them between his white teeth, stopping after each bite
to ask questions about everybody at home. Well, I reckon there were never
three happier children than the three who returned home that afternoon,
with the tall soldier walking beside them, leading his horse, and eating
russet apples as fast as ever he could. Old Squire jolted slowly along
behind, grinning from ear to ear.
Uncle Charlie wouldn't sleep in the house that night, but wrapped himself
in his blanket and laid down on the ground under a great elm tree in the
corner of the yard, with his faithful horse close by. Mrs. Marsden and
Roberta watched from an upper porch, and old Squire by the avenue gate.
At least Roberta thought she watched, but next morning mamma told her with
tears in her eyes that Uncle Charlie was gone, that somebody had given him
away. Uncle Squire heard the Federals coming, and told him, and he barely
had time to escape.
In February of '64 old Squire came out from town one afternoon strutting,
as Aunt Judy said, for all the world just "lak er turkey goberler.
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