"Never again for me! I'll hang my flag on the mantel. I'll not try to wave it in the face of a gentleman again--oof--what silly fools we were!" The Federal commander of the fleet had warned the citizens of Baton Rouge that any hostile demonstration against his ships or men would mean the instant bombardment of the town. Jennie had just finished breakfast and helped her grandmother to find her way to the rocker. Mandy had been sent to the store for some thread with which to make a new uniform for one of the boys. Jennie resolved to turn her energies to practical account now. No more flaunting of tiny flags in the faces of brave, dignified young officers of the navy. The maid rushed through the hall wild with excitement. She had run every step back from the store without the thread. "Lowdy, Miss Jennie," she gasped, "sumfin' awful happened!" "What is it? What's the matter?" Mandy stood in dumb terror, the whites of her eyes shining. She was listening apparently for the arch-angel's trumpet to sound. Jennie seized her shoulders. "What's the matter? Tell me before I murder you!" "Yassam!" Mandy gasped and again her head was cocked to one side as if straining her ears for the dreaded sound of Gabriel. "What's happened?--Tell me!" Jennie stormed. At last poor Mandy's senses slowly returned. She stared into her young mistress' face and gasped: "Yassam--Mr. Castle's killed a Yankee ossifer on de ship an' dey gwine ter shell--" "Boom!" The deep thunder peal of a great gun shook the world. There was no mistaking the sound of it or its meaning. The fleet had opened fire on the defenseless town. Mandy's teeth chattered and her voice failed. And then pandemonium. Poor old negroes and helpless pickaninnies swarmed into the house for shelter from the doom of Judgment Day. "Run--run for your lives--get out of the way of those shells!" Jennie shouted. Her three terror-stricken maids huddled by her side in helpless panic. Her grandmother sprang to her feet and asked in subdued tones: "What is it, child?" "The fleet's shelling the town--grandma--you'll be killed--the house'll be smashed--you must run--run for your life--" Jennie screamed her warning into the sweet old lady's ears and seized her by the hand. "But they can't shell a town full of helpless women and children, my dear," the grandmother protested gently. "It's impossible--" "Boom--boom!" pealed two guns in quick succession. "De Lawd save us!" Lucy screamed. "You see they're doing it--come--" Jennie grasped her grandmother's hand firmly and dragged her from the house. From the servants' quarters came one long wail of prayer and lamentation mingled with shouts and exhortation. An old bed-ridden black woman, a fervent Methodist, raised a hymn: "_Better days are coming, we'll all go right!_"