Part 59 (2/2)

The gravel was cutting her feet. Her shoes were utterly unfit for running. She would rush back and get a pair of the boys' strong ones.

She had worn them before.

”Wait, grandma!” she shouted. ”I must change my shoes!”

Back into the house she plunged and found the shoes. Seeing the house still standing, she thought of other things she might need, grasped her tooth brushes and thrust them in her corset. She would certainly need a comb. She added that--a powder bag and lace collar lying on the bureau were also saved. Her hair was tumbling down. She thought of hairpins and tucking comb and added them.

Her grandmother in alarm came back to find her. They decided between them to fill a pillow case with little things they would certainly need.

There was a lull in the sh.e.l.ling. Jennie's maids rushed back in terror at being left alone.

The guns again opened with redoubled fury. Still bent on saving something Jennie grabbed two soiled underskirts and an old cloak and once more dragged her grandmother to the door.

Five big sh.e.l.ls sailed squarely over the house at the same moment. They seemed to swing in circles, spiral-shaped like corkscrews. The dull whiz and swish of their flight made the most blood-curdling unearthly noise.

Her grandmother fumbled at the door trying to turn the bolt of the unused lock.

”Don't fool with that door, grandma!” Jennie cried--”run--run--you'll be killed.”

”I won't run!” the old lady said with firm decision. ”I'll go down there and tell those cowards what I think of their firing on women and children--”

A big sh.e.l.l whizzed past the house and grandma jumped behind a pillar.

She was painfully deaf to human speech--but the whiz of that sh.e.l.l found her nerves. They ran now without looking back--ran at least for a hundred yards until the poor old lady could run no more and then walked as rapidly as possible.

They were at last on the main country road, leading out of town.

Hurrying terror-stricken people, young, old, black and white, were pa.s.sing them every moment now.

A mile and a half out her grandmother broke down completely. A gentleman pa.s.sing in a buggy took pity on her gray hairs and lifted her to the seat by his side while his own little ones crouched at her feet.

Jennie waved her hand as they drove off:

”I'll find you somewhere, grandma dear--don't worry!”

Another mile she trudged with Mandy and Lucy clinging to her skirts and then sat down to rest. Her nerves were slowly recovering their poise and she began to laugh at the funny sights the terror-stricken people presented at every turn.

A cart approached piled high with household goods.

”Let's ride, Mandy!” Jennie cried.

”Ya.s.sam, dat's what I says, too,” the little black maid eagerly agreed.

The cart belonged to a neighbor. It was driven by an old negro man.

”Let us ride, uncle!” Jennie called.

The old man pulled his reins quickly and laughed good-naturedly.

<script>