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Optic, Oliver, 1822-1897

"A Victorious Union"

The first person he observed was his nephew, seated in his
arm-chair where he could overlook all that took place on the deck. He
hastened to him, detaching his arm from the hand of the captain, and
gave him an affectionate greeting.
"I was very sorry to learn that you were wounded, Christy," said he,
holding the right hand of the young officer.
"Not badly wounded, Uncle Homer," replied Christy. "I hope you are
well."
"I am not very well, though I do not call myself sick. Have you heard
from your father lately, Christy?" asked his uncle.
"Not for a long time, for no store-ship or other vessel has come to our
squadron for several months, though we are waiting for a vessel at the
present time. You look very pale and thin, Uncle Homer."
"Perhaps I look worse than I feel," replied the planter with a faint
smile. "But I have suffered a great deal of anxiety lately."
"Excuse me, Colonel Passford, but if you will allow me to install you in
your stateroom, you will have abundance of time to talk with your nephew
afterwards," interposed Captain Breaker, who was very busy.
"Certainly, Captain; pardon me for detaining you. I am a prisoner,
and I shall need my trunk, which is in my stateroom on board of the
Tallahatchie. Gill will bring it on board if you send word to him to do
so," replied the colonel.
He followed the captain to his cabin.


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