| OCR Text |
Show -4- night before, using her special Swedish recipe. As she stuffed the chicken in his knapsack, Sgt. Swenson blushed trying to hide his embarrassment from several sixteen year old privates of his squad, slouching in the shade, impatiently checking their muskets, in a hurry to be off to their first adventure, away from the farm at last! The major tenderly expressed his feelings for his beautiful wife, Mattie, and his concern about the responsibilities which must now be assumed by his fifteen year old son, Tobias, who would manage the farm until the 40th returned to Millfax. Major Avery kissed each of his daughters; Kathyrn, the youngest at eight, who held a special place in his heart, because of her fair blonde likeness to Mattie; eleven year old, mischievous, freckled Ginny, who should have been a boy; and quiet, sensitive, Martha, who could not control her heartbroken sobbing. The bugler blasted the soft summer morning with the call to assemble. A hush fell over the crowd. The old town minister mumbled a short prayer, and the militiamen began falling into some semblance or order. Some of the officers wore uniforms*, but the men, without exception, were dressed in the rough homespun of farmers and outdoorsmen (they had been promised uniforms when they joined the regulars); and as the five hundred men straggled out of Millfax amid the cheers and yells of families and friends they resembled a group of men out for a day of hunting and relaxation. Col. Greene, sitting proud and straight upon Prince George, his white stallion, rumored to be the fastest horse in the country, led the double column of marchers westward toward Pennsylvania. Major Avery galloped his bay gelding up and down the half mile column calling various men by name, smiling encouragement to |
