When they were seated in the cars, Sallie looked at her bit
of paper, and read on its outer covering, "A wedding-gift to Sallie
Howard from my dear daughter Francesca," and found within the deed of a
beautiful little home. God bless her! say we, with Mr. Ercildoune. God
bless them both, and may they live long to enjoy it!
That afternoon, as Tom and Robert were driving, Russell, noting the
unwonted look of life and activity, and the gay flags flung to the
breeze, demanded what it all meant. "Why," said he, "it is like a field
day."
"It is so," answered Robert, "or what is the same; it is election day."
"Bless my soul! so it is; and a soldier to be elected. Have you voted?"
"No!"
"No? Here's a nice state of affairs! a fellow that'll get his arm blown
off for a flag, but won't take the trouble to drop a scrap of paper for
it. Come, I'll drive you over."
"You forget, Russell!"
"Forget? Nonsense! This isn't 1860, but 1865. I don't forget; I
remember. It is after the war now,--come."
"As you please," said Robert. He knew the disappointment that awaited
his friend, but he would not thwart him now.
There was a great crowd about the polling-office, and they all looked on
with curious interest as the two young men came up. No demonstration was
made, though a half-dozen brutal fellows uttered some coarse remarks.
"Hear the damned Rebs talk!" said a man in the army blue, who, with keen
eyes, was observing the scene.
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