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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 115/927
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Suddenly
the
hall
burst
into
life
.
It
was
full
of
girls
,
girls
who
floated
in
butterfly
bright
dresses
,
hooped
out
enormously
,
lace
pantalets
peeping
from
beneath
;
round
little
white
shoulders
bare
,
and
faintest
traces
of
soft
little
bosoms
showing
above
lace
flounces
;
lace
shawls
carelessly
hanging
from
arms
;
fans
spangled
and
painted
,
fans
of
swan
's
-
down
and
peacock
feathers
,
dangling
at
wrists
by
tiny
velvet
ribbons
;
girls
with
masses
of
golden
curls
about
their
necks
and
fringed
gold
earbobs
that
tossed
and
danced
with
their
dancing
curls
.
Laces
and
silks
and
braid
and
ribbons
,
all
blockade
run
,
all
the
more
precious
and
more
proudly
worn
because
of
it
,
finery
flaunted
with
an
added
pride
as
an
extra
affront
to
the
Yankees
.
Not
all
the
flowers
of
the
town
were
standing
in
tribute
to
the
leaders
of
the
Confederacy
.
The
smallest
,
the
most
fragrant
blossoms
bedecked
the
girls
.
Tea
roses
tucked
behind
pink
ears
,
cape
jessamine
and
bud
roses
in
round
little
garlands
over
cascades
of
side
curls
,
blossoms
thrust
demurely
into
satin
sashes
,
flowers
that
before
the
night
was
over
would
find
their
way
into
the
breast
pockets
of
gray
uniforms
as
treasured
souvenirs
.
There
were
so
many
uniforms
in
the
crowd
--
so
many
uniforms
on
so
many
men
whom
Scarlett
knew
,
men
she
had
met
on
hospital
cots
,
on
the
streets
,
at
the
drill
ground
.
They
were
such
resplendent
uniforms
,
brave
with
shining
buttons
and
dazzling
with
twined
gold
braid
on
cuffs
and
collars
,
the
red
and
yellow
and
blue
stripes
on
the
trousers
,
for
the
different
branches
of
the
service
,
setting
off
the
gray
to
perfection
.
Scarlet
and
gold
sashes
swung
to
and
fro
,
sabers
glittered
and
banged
against
shining
boots
,
spurs
rattled
and
jingled
.
Such
handsome
men
,
thought
Scarlett
,
with
a
swell
of
pride
in
her
heart
,
as
the
men
called
greetings
,
waved
to
friends
,
bent
low
over
the
hands
of
elderly
ladies
.
All
of
them
were
so
young
looking
,
even
with
their
sweeping
yellow
mustaches
and
full
black
and
brown
beards
,
so
handsome
,
so
reckless
,
with
their
arms
in
slings
,
with
head
bandages
startlingly
white
across
sun-browned
faces
.
Some
of
them
were
on
crutches
and
how
proud
were
the
girls
who
solicitously
slowed
their
steps
to
their
escorts
'
hopping
pace
!
There
was
one
gaudy
splash
of
color
among
the
uniforms
that
put
the
girls
'
bright
finery
to
shame
and
stood
out
in
the
crowd
like
a
tropical
bird
--
a
Louisiana
Zouave
,
with
baggy
blue
and
white
striped
pants
,
cream
gaiters
and
tight
little
red
jacket
,
a
dark
,
grinning
little
monkey
of
a
man
,
with
his
arm
in
a
black
silk
sling
.
He
was
Maybelle
Merriwether
's
especial
beau
,
Rene
Picard
.
The
whole
hospital
must
have
turned
out
,
at
least
everybody
who
could
walk
,
and
all
the
men
on
furlough
and
sick
leave
and
all
the
railroad
and
mail
service
and
hospital
and
commissary
departments
between
here
and
Macon
.
How
pleased
the
ladies
would
be
!
The
hospital
should
make
a
mint
of
money
tonight
.
There
was
a
ruffle
of
drums
from
the
street
below
,
the
tramp
of
feet
,
the
admiring
cries
of
coachmen
.
A
bugle
blared
and
a
bass
voice
shouted
the
command
to
break
ranks
.
In
a
moment
,
the
Home
Guard
and
the
militia
unit
in
their
bright
uniforms
shook
the
narrow
stairs
and
crowded
into
the
room
,
bowing
,
saluting
,
shaking
hands
.
There
were
boys
in
the
Home
Guard
,
proud
to
be
playing
at
war
,
promising
themselves
they
would
be
in
Virginia
this
time
next
year
,
if
the
war
would
just
last
that
long
;
old
men
with
white
beards
,
wishing
they
were
younger
,
proud
to
march
in
uniform
in
the
reflected
glory
of
sons
at
the
front
.
In
the
militia
,
there
were
many
middle-aged
men
and
some
older
men
but
there
was
a
fair
sprinkling
of
men
of
military
age
who
did
not
carry
themselves
quite
so
jauntily
as
their
elders
or
their
juniors
.
Already
people
were
beginning
to
whisper
,
asking
why
they
were
not
with
Lee
.
How
would
they
all
get
into
the
hall
!
It
had
seemed
such
a
large
place
a
few
minutes
before
,
and
now
it
was
packed
,
warm
with
summer-night
odors
of
sachet
and
cologne
water
and
hair
pomade
and
burning
bayberry
candles
,
fragrant
with
flowers
,
faintly
dusty
as
many
feet
trod
the
old
drill
floors
.
The
din
and
hubbub
of
voices
made
it
almost
impossible
to
hear
anything
and
,
as
if
feeling
the
joy
and
excitement
of
the
occasion
,
old
Levi
choked
off
"
Lorena
"
in
mid-bar
,
rapped
sharply
with
his
bow
and
,
sawing
away
for
dear
life
,
the
orchestra
burst
into
"
Bonnie
Blue
Flag
.
"
A
hundred
voices
took
it
up
,
sang
it
,
shouted
it
like
a
cheer
.
The
Home
Guard
bugler
,
climbing
onto
the
platform
,
caught
up
with
the
music
just
as
the
chorus
began
,
and
the
high
silver
notes
soared
out
thrillingly
above
the
massed
singing
,
causing
goose
bumps
to
break
out
on
bare
arms
and
cold
chills
of
deeply
felt
emotion
to
fly
down
spines
:
"
Hurrah
!
Hurrah
!
For
the
Southern
Rights
,
hurrah
!
Hurrah
for
the
Bonnie
Blue
Flag
That
bears
a
single
star
!
"
