Thomas Dixon

The Victim: a Romance of the Real Jefferson Davis Thomas Dixon

The hot sun of the South was sinking in red glow through the giant tree-tops of a Mississippi forest beyond the village of Woodville. A slender girl stood in the pathway watching a boy of seven trudge manfully away beside his stalwart brother. Her lips trembled and eyes filled with tears. "Wait?wait!" she cried. With a sudden bound she snatched him to her heart. "Don't, Polly?you hurt!" the little fellow faltered, looking at her with a feeling of sudden fear. "Why did you squeeze me so hard?" "You shouldn't have done that, honey," the big brother frowned. "I know," the sister pleaded, "but I couldn't help it." "What are you crying about?" the boy questioned. Again the girl's arm stole around his neck. "What's the matter with her, Big Brother?" he asked with a brave attempt at scorn. The man slowly loosened the sister's arms.