A Daughter of the South


“I must beg food, even from an enemy of my land and my people.”
[first two pages of the book] There was a good deal of danger involved in frying bacon there on the bank of the bayou, especially on so dark a night. The glare of the fire or the odor of the bacon, or both, might at any moment bring discovery on the part of the Federal or the Confederate scouts who ceaselessly prowled in that region. Hugh Marvin perfectly knew what such discovery would mean in his case. The scouts in the blue, should they find him there where he had no business to be, would very certainly have him as a spy. The scouts who wore the gray, if they should come upon him there would summarily riddle him with bullets as a person, not a soldier, trespassing upon a domain in which only soldiers had any conceivable business to be. But Hugh Marvin was used to taking of risks. He was a young man with an old man’s habit of taking all things as they came and adapting his conduct to whatever circumstances might arise. He was cool of head, deliberate, determined. He had faith in his own ability to take care of himself, and that faith had never yet been disappointed. For the rest, Hugh Marvin had no personal acquaintance with fear. Had he been a soldier, as he was not, he would have been always first to volunteer for the work of desperate endeavor, and he would very certainly have won either a grave or a high position for himself by his reckless daring. Just now his only purpose in life was to fry bacon. His corn-bread was maturing itself under the ashes of his fire, and he was bending over a skillet with all the devotion of a cook who possessed of a conscience – a being rare on this earth, but still now and then existent. He had a fancy to have his bacon cooked that –


Additional information

Weight 21.2 oz



August, 1905


George Cary Eggleston