“It was on a Friday morning that we parted from Doctor Dodson; the weather was getting to be uncomfortably warm, and we were compelled to travel very slowly, lest Lottie should be prostrated by the heat. Ten miles a day was the average distance which we marched. We usually started at sunrise, walked five miles, then rested in the shade until four o’clock, and marched the other five miles by dark. As we had determined not to travel on the Sabbath, we began early in the day on Saturday to look for a cool, shady spot where we might rest comfortably until Monday morning. Shade and pure water were two articles that must be found adjacent to each other, before we could expect to pass the time pleasantly. We, however, had the good luck to come to a spring where many large trees stood, all overgrown with grape-vines, making a covering not only sufficient to keep off the hot rays of the sun, but a shelter that would have protected us from a heavy shower of rain. It proved to be an unfortunate spot for us, as an occurrence happened there that gave us a great deal of trouble. The place where we halted was only one mile from the county-site, and it was from this village that the source of our troubles came. It was Sunday evening; we had finished our humble supper, and were all engaged in singing an old favorite song. I suppose that it was our singing that attracted the attention of some rude boys from the village. There were three boys in the gang that came up to where we were seated; the leader, a lad whom I supposed to be about fifteen years of age, whose features exhibited unmistakable signs of dissipation and brutality; the other two were much younger and appeared more genteel. The leader, whose name I afterward learned was Benjamin Bowles, in a domineering tone said: “‘Is this a singing-school, or a Gipsy camp?’ “‘Neither, sir,’ Harry replied. “‘Is it a Sunday-school, or a camp-meeting then?’ “‘No, sir, it is neither a Sunday-school nor a camp-meeting.’ “‘Then what in the deuce is it?’ “‘It is no business of yours, sir, and we would be much obliged if you would let us alone.’ “‘Oh, would you, now? See here, little sweetheart, I’ll give you a dollar for one of those pretty curls.’ And he reached out his hand to take hold of Lottie’s hair. She blushed and moved to Harry’s side. I felt the blood in my veins begin to boil, and the demon to rise within my heart. “‘You had better go away and leave us alone,’ said Harry, as he made a movement toward the boy. “‘Now, do you really think so?’ said he sneeringly. ‘What a polite nice boy you are!’ “I thought Harry was going to strike him, but Lottie laid her hand on his shoulder. “‘Don’t have any difficulty with him, brother, he will go away directly,’ she said softly. “‘Now that’s a daisy, my little queen,’ he said; ‘let us be social.’