Yankee Girl at Fort Sumter | Page 7

sure I can come," declared Grace, "and I think it's lovely of you
to ask me."
"You'll come, won't you, Sylvia?" said Flora, putting her arm over the
little girl's shoulders as they went up the steps.

"Yes, indeed; thank you very much for asking me," replied Sylvia. She
had visited the Hayes plantation early in the summer, and thought it a
more wonderful place even than the big mansion on Tradd Street where
the Hayes family lived in the winter months. Mr. Hayes owned
hundreds of negroes, and raised a great quantity of cotton. The house at
the plantation was large, with many balconies, and cool, pleasant rooms.
Flora had a pair of white ponies, and there were pigeons, and a number
of dogs. Sylvia was sure that it would be a beautiful visit, especially as
Grace would be there.
As she went smilingly toward her seat in the schoolroom she passed
Elinor Mayhew, who was already seated.
"Yankee!" whispered Elinor sharply, looking at her with scornful eyes.
But Sylvia, remembering that her father had said that all Americans
were Yankees, nodded to the older girl and responded: "Yankee
your-self!"
CHAPTER III
SYLVIA IN TROUBLE
The Hayes plantation was about ten miles distant from Charleston, on
the opposite side of the Ashley River. Flora told Sylvia and Grace that
the Hayes coachman would drive them out, and that they would start
early on Saturday morning. Sylvia, remembering her former visit, knew
well how delightful the drive would be, and thinking of the pleasure in
store quite forgot to be troubled by Elinor Mayhew's hostility.
At recess the girls usually walked about in the garden, or tossed a ball
back and forth. Miss Rosalie would sit on the broad piazza overlooking
the garden, her fingers busy with some piece of delicate embroidery.
To-day, as they filed out and down the steps, Elinor whispered to
several of her companions. And suddenly Sylvia realized that she was
standing alone. Grace Waite had lingered to speak to Miss Rosalie;
Flora had been excused just before recess, as her black mammy had

arrived with a note from Mrs. Hayes. The other girls were gathered in a
little group about Elinor, who was evidently telling them something of
great interest. Sylvia walked slowly along toward a little summer-house
where Miss Patten sometimes had little tea-parties. She hoped Grace
would not stay long with Miss Patten. The other girls were between
Sylvia and the arbor, and none of them moved to let her pass; nor did
any of them speak to her, as she paused with a word of greeting.
"Now, girls," she heard Elinor say; and the others, half under their
breath, but only too distinctly for Sylvia, called out: "Yankee, Yankee!"
Then like a flock of bright-colored birds they ran swiftly into the
summer-house.
For a moment Sylvia stood quite still. She realized that Elinor meant to
be hateful; but she remembered that her father had said that all
Americans were called "Yankees," and she was not a coward. She went
straight on to the arbor. Elinor Mayhew stood on the steps.
"You are just as much a Yankee as I am. And you ought to be proud of
it," declared Sylvia, facing the older girl.
"Hear that, girls!" called Elinor to the group about her. There was a
little angry murmur from the others.
"Don't you dare say that again, Miss Boston," called May Bailey, who
stood next to Elinor.
Sylvia was now thoroughly angry. She knew of no reason why these
girls should treat her in so unkind a fashion. She felt very desolate and
unhappy, but she faced them bravely.
"Yankees! Yankees! It's what all Americans are," she declared
defiantly.
In an instant the little girls were all about her. Elinor Mayhew was
holding her hands, and the others were pushing her along the path to
the shore. The thick growing shrubs hid them from the house. Sylvia
did not cry out or speak. She was not at all afraid, nor did she resist.

"We ought to make her take it back," said May Bailey, as Elinor
stopped, and they all stood in a close group about Sylvia.
"Of course she's got to take it back, and apologize on her knees,"
declared Elinor. "She might as well learn that South Carolinians will
not be insulted," and Elinor lifted her head proudly.
"I won't take it back!" retorted Sylvia, "and you are the ones who will
have to apologize. Yes, every one of you, before I will ever speak to
you again."
"Hear that, girls! Wouldn't it be dreadful if she never spoke to us
again!" sneered Elinor.
"She means she will tell Miss Rosalie," said one of the girls.
"I don't, either. I can look after my own afffairs," retorted Sylvia
bravely. "I'm not