The cloud was dark--but in
spite of General Grant, the sun would shine sometimes!
After reading the _Examiner's_ comments, I mounted my horse and rode
into Petersburg, where I spent a pleasant hour in conversation with a
friend, Captain Max. Do you laugh still, my dear Max? Health and
happiness attend you and yours, my hearty!
As I got into the saddle again, the enemy began a brisk shelling. The
shell skimmed the roofs of the houses, with an unearthly scream; and
one struck a chimney which it hurled down with a tremendous crash. In
spite of all, however, the streets were filled with young women, who
continued to walk quietly, or to trip along laughing and careless, to
buy a riband or some trifle at the stores.[1] That seemed singular
then, and seems more singular to-day. But there is nothing like being
accustomed to any thing--and the shelling had now "lost its interest,"
and troubled nobody.
[Footnote 1: Real.]
"Good!" I said, laughing, "our friends yonder are paying us their
respects to-day. They have dined probably on the tons of turkey sent
from New England, and are amusing themselves shelling us by way of
dessert."
And wishing to have a better view of the lines, I rode toward
Blandford.
Do you remember the ivy-draped ruins of the old "Blandford church," my
dear reader? This is one of our Virginia antiquities, and is worth
seeing.
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