In
a few minutes, which seemed an age to Frank, however, the meal, which
consisted of coffee, made of parched corn, ham, honey, and corn-bread,
was ready. Frank thought he had never eaten so good a meal before. He
forgot the danger of his situation, and listened to the conversation
of the old negro and his wife, as though there was not a rebel within
a hundred miles of him.
"There," he exclaimed, after he had finished the last piece of
corn-bread, and pushed his chair back from the table, "I believe I've
eaten supper enough to satisfy any two men living."
"Has yer had enough, chile?" asked the old woman. "I's glad to see yer
eat. I wants to do all I can for you Yankee sogers."
"Oh, I've had a great plenty, aunty," answered Frank, as he rose from
the table. "Now, I must bid you good-by," he continued, as he pulled
his rifle out from its hiding-place. "I shall never be able to repay
you; but"--
"Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the old woman, "whar's you gwine?
You mustn't say one word 'bout gwine out o' dis house _dis_ night.
I's got a bed all fixed for you, an' Pomp will take you up early in de
mornin', an' show you de way fru de swamp.
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