Page 114 - Among the camps, or, Young people's stories of the war

The next: instant Nancy Pansy had slipped through her
little hole in the fence, through which she had so often

gone, and was in the old doctor’s yard ; and when, five min­
utes afterward, Tom Adams marched his men up the walk
and surrounded and entered the house, Nancy Pansy, her
broken doll in her arms, was sitting demurely on the edge
of a large chair, looking at him with great, wide-open, danc­

ing eyes. A little princess could not have been grander,
and iI she had hidden Harry Hunter behind her chair, she
could not have shown more plainly that she had given
him warning.