The
Civil War was Grandpa's war and it happened a long time ago, but
we still talked about it. Now, for sure, Papa would build us a
new house with a good top on it. Then I remembered! I didn't know
where our house was! Nor Papa! Nor Mama! Grandpa, neither! I
didn't even know where I was!
I scrambled up from the pile of corn and ran outside.
Right across the road stood a real house! With hound dogs on
the porch. And a man. Chickens scratching in the yard. Smoke
puffing out of the chimney. Everything a house is supposed to
have!
The dogs started barking at me.
"Hey there! Com'ere!" The man had seen me too.
As I ran toward him he made the dogs hush and yelled back at
somebody inside: "Set another plate, Mattie! We've got a sorta
ragged little visitor! With one shoe on!"
He squatted down to look at me. "Bless your little heart!
Com'ere, sugar! My, my! Mud and leaves and tatters! No tears,
now! Wearin' one shoe's all right! Hon, I wear just one-all the
time."
The breakfast tasted good, and the man and lady talked to me
a lot and said for me to just keep on eating-as long as I could
swallow a bite.
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