"
"What a strange compliment."
"Ma'm, I don't know how to speak compliments."
"Come on, please."
CHAPTER IV.
AT THE POST OFFICE.
Beneath the blooming boughs overhanging the mountain road the old
carryall was slowly pulled along by a horse into whose joints had crept
the dreamy laziness of early summer. Lou, bound about with flowering
vines, captive May-queen in purple chains, sat on the rear seat with
Tom; and she was shy in this close touch with the mysterious world from
afar off; and her timidity made him timid, this youth whose earliest
recollection was the booming of cannon, as he played upon a cavalryman's
blanket, waiting for his father to return from the charge. Motherless,
the pet of the battalion, his playthings the accoutrements of war, his
"stick horse," a sabre, his confidential companion a brass field piece.
Old soldiers, devoted to their colonel, carried him about on their
shoulders, and handsome women made him vain and bold with their kisses;
but in the presence of this mountain girl he was subdued.
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