I had hardly got beyond the sound of the troops when I saw a beautiful plantation house, on the porch of which was a handsome old lady and her two attractive daughters.
They were greatly alarmed when I came up, and asked if I didn't know that the Yankee army would be along in a few minutes and that my life was in peril.

All their own men folks, they said, were in hiding in the timber.
"Don't you sit here," begged the old lady, when I had seated myself on the porch to sip a glass of milk for which I had asked her.

"The Yankee troops will go right through this house.

They will break up the piano and every stick of furniture, and leave the place in ruins.

You are sure to be killed or taken prisoner." By this time the advance guard was coming up the road.