"
"And who is that?" I asked. "You do not want slavery to be
allowed in the territories?"
"I? Not I!" said Miss Cardigan. "And if the people want to
keep it out of them, I suppose they will elect Abraham
Lincoln. I don't know if he is the right man or no; but he is
on the right side. 'Break every yoke, and let the oppressed go
free.' That is my maxim, Daisy."
I pondered this matter by turns more and more. By and by there
began to be audible mutterings of a storm in the air around
me. The first I heard was when we were all together in the
evening with our work, the half hour before tea.
"Lincoln is elected" — whispered one of the girls to another.
"Who cares?" the other said aloud.
"What if he is?" asked a third.
"Then," said a gentle, graceful looking girl, spreading her
embroidery out on her lap with her slim white fingers, — "_then_
there'll be fighting."
It was given, this announcement, with the coolest matter-of-
fact assurance.
"Who is going to fight?" was the next question.
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