"Dar now, Miss Lou, you raisin' mo' questions dan I kin tink out in
a yeah."

"There's dozens more rising in my mind and I can't get rid of them.
Aunt keeps my hands knitting and working for the soldiers, and I
like to do it. I'd like to be a soldier myself, for then I could go
somewhere and do and see something. Life then wouldn't be just doing
things with my hands and being told to think exactly what an old
gentleman and an old lady think. Of course our side is right in this
war, but how can I believe with uncle that nearly all the people in
the North are low, wicked and vile? The idea that every Northern
soldier is a monster is preposterous to me. Uncle forgets that he
has had me taught in United States history. I wish some of them
would just march by this out-of-the-way place, for I would like to
see for myself what they are like."

"Dar, dar, Miss Lou, you gittin' too bumptious. You like de fus'
woman who want ter know too much."

"No," said the girl, her blue eyes becoming dark and earnest, "I
want to know what's true, what's right. I can't believe that uncle
and aunt's narrow, exclusive, comfortless religion came from heaven;
I can't believe that God agrees with uncle as to just what a young
girl should do and think and be, but uncle seems to think that the
wickedest thing I can do is to disagree with him and aunt. Uncle
forgets that there are books in his library, and books make one
think. They tell of life very different from mine. Why, Aun' Jinkey,
just think what a lonely girl I am! You are about the only one I can
talk to. Our neighbors are so far away and we live so secluded that