[The Red Acorn by John McElroy]@TWC D-Link book
The Red Acorn

CHAPTER XI
19/23

On'y let me know what hit is." "Why, Aunt Debby, thar hain't been nothin' happened ter 'em," said Fortner, deeply surprised.

"Thar ain't nothin' ter tell ye 'bout 'em.
They're all safe.

They're in Kunnel Garrard's rijimint, ez ye know, an' hit fit behind breastworks, and didn't lose nobody, scacely--leastwise none uv our kin." She rose quickly from her chair.

The ball of yarn fell from her lap and rolled unheeded toward the glowing coals under the forelog.

With arm outstretched, hands clasped, and eyes directed upward in fervent appeal, there was much to recall that Deborah from whom she took her name--that prophetess and priestess who, standing under the waving palm trees of Ball-Tamar, inspired her countrymen to go forth and overthrow and destroy their Canaanitish oppressors.
"O, God!" she said in low, thrilling tones, "Thou's aforetimes gi'n me much ter be thankful fur, as well ez much ter dumbly ba'r when Thy rod smote me fur reasons thet I couldn't understand.


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