This particular afternoon there was an unusually large crowd clustered around the wheezy engine with its string of shabby coaches. “More wounded,” Harriot whispered, nodding toward a number of flat cars attached to the end of the train. “I don’t think so,” Corinne answered, a little excitedly. “They’re filled with ladies and gentlemen, and there’s something going on. Lets get closer.” They elbowed their way through the press until they came within earshot of a Confederate officer, who was speaking to the assemblage. His arm was in a sling and over his shoulders he had a faded blanket shawl which, with his threadbare gray uniform, gave him a most dilapidated appearance. But his audience, well used to the sight of ragged soldiers, listened with marked attention to his words. “It has as much force as a soap-bubble,” the officer was saying as the girls came within sound of his voice. “Just suppose Abe Lincoln took it into his head that it was wrong to keep birds in cages. And then suppose he issued a proclamation to France ordering her to open all her cage doors and let out the birds. Does anybody think France would pay any attention to it? Of course not! They would insist, first of all, that the birds would starve if they were let out. Secondly, they would say it was none of Lincoln’s business and, lastly, they would know, just as we know, that the birds don’t want their freedom.” “What has Abe Lincoln to do with French birds?” Harriot whispered. “Hush!” Corinne admonished her, straining her ears to catch the next words. “Well, my friends,” the officer went on, “that’s the way it is with this Emancipation Proclamation. You know, and I know, that our servants don’t want to be free. They wouldn’t know what to do with freedom if they had it—and it’s none of Abe Lincoln’s business anyway! What authority has he over our great Confederacy? Not that much!” and he snapped his fingers with a fine gesture of indifference. “No more than he has over France. For two years he has been trying to beat us and now, ladies and gentlemen, he’s getting desperate. This proclamation is his last move to scare us. He knows at last that Cotton is King. And, let me tell you, the Knights of the Golden Circle are not idle. The North is about ready to give up. This proclamation doesn’t amount—” The train gave a jerk and, starting off, put an end to his oratory. The crowd cheered as the passenger cars moved slowly away to carry the news to the next stopping-place along the line. But there was a lack of heartiness in the shouts of applause, and a rather silent group of people hurried toward their homes. Men looked at each other with sober faces and shook their heads somewhat doubtfully. “I’m going straight back to ma,” said Corinne, as the two girls turned to retrace their steps. “But the patty-pans!” Harriot exclaimed. “They’ll be done by the time we get home.”