Still better were they pleased and much affected by the singing of "Who Will Care for Mother Now," by Annie May Adams, a lovely young girl of fifteen, with a pure, sympathetic, soprano voice and a touching simplicity of style. How warm beat the hearts of the people on this far off shore, as at the seat of war, and even the children shouted, sang and wept in sympathy with those who shed their lifeblood for their country. The singing of "Red, White and Blue" by the children created great enthusiasm; war tableaux such as "The Soldier's Farewell," "Who Goes There?" "In Camp," were well presented and received with enthusiastic applause, and whatever apology might have been made for the status of the school, there was none to be made for its patriotism. Our teachers were Unionists without exception and we were taught many such things; "Rally Round the Flag" was a favorite and up went every right hand and stamped hard every little foot as we sang "Down With the Traitor and Up With the Stars" with perhaps more energy than music. The children of my family, with those of A. A. Denny's, sometimes held "Union Meetings;" at these were speeches made that were very intense, as we thought, from the top of a stump or barrel, each mounting in turn to declaim against slavery and the Confederacy, to pronounce sentence of execution upon Jeff. Davis, Captain Semmes, et al. in a way to have made those worthies uneasy in their sleep. Every book, picture, story, indeed, every printed page concerning the war was eagerly scanned and I remember sitting by, through long talks of Grandfather John Denny with my father, to which I listened intently. We finally burned Semmes in effigy to express our opinion of him and named the only poor, sour apple in our orchard for the Confederate president. For a time there were two war vessels in the harbor, the "Saranac" and "Suwanee," afterwards wrecked in Seymour Narrows. The Suwanee was overturned and sunk by the shifting of her heavy guns, but was finally raised. Both had fine bands that discoursed sweet music every evening. We stood on the bank to listen, delighted to recognize our favorites, national airs and war songs, from "Just Before the Battle, Mother" to "Star Spangled Banner." Other beautiful music, from operas, perhaps, we enjoyed without comprehending, although we did understand the stirring strains with which we were so familiar. In those days the itinerant M. E. ministers were often the guests of my parents and many were the good natured jokes concerning the fatalities among the yellow-legged chickens. On one occasion a small daughter of the family, whose discretion had not developed with her hospitality, rushed excitedly into the sitting room where the minister was being entertained and said, "Mother, which chicken shall I catch?" to the great amusement of all.