Spring was now deep and green in Kentucky.

They were running through a land of deep, rich soil, with an outcrop of white limestone showing here and there above the heavy green grass.

A peaceful country and prosperous.

It seemed impossible that it should be torn by war, by war between those who lived upon it.
Then the train left the grass lands, cut through a narrow but rough range of hills, entered a gorge and stopped in Frankfort, the little capital, beside the deep and blue Kentucky.
Frankfort had only a few thousand inhabitants, but Harry found here much of the feeling that he had seen in Nashville and Charleston, with an important difference.

There it was all Southern, or nearly so, but here North struggled with South on terms that certainly were not worse than equal.
Although the place was crowded, he and his father were lucky enough to secure a room at the chief hotel, which was also the only one of any importance.