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"
Nice
,
my
foot
!
"
replied
Scarlert
.
"
She
asked
me
how
many
bloodhounds
we
kept
to
chase
our
darkies
with
!
I
agree
with
Melly
.
I
never
saw
a
nice
Yankee
,
male
or
female
.
But
do
n't
cry
,
Melly
!
Ashley
'll
come
home
.
It
's
a
long
walk
and
maybe
--
maybe
he
has
n't
got
any
boots
.
"
Then
at
the
thought
of
Ashley
barefooted
,
Scarlett
could
have
cried
.
Let
other
soldiers
limp
by
in
rags
with
their
feet
tied
up
in
sacks
and
strips
of
carpet
,
but
not
Ashley
.
He
should
come
home
on
a
prancing
horse
,
dressed
in
fine
clothes
and
shining
boots
,
a
plume
in
his
hat
.
It
was
the
final
degradation
for
her
to
think
of
Ashley
reduced
to
the
state
of
these
other
soldiers
.
One
afternoon
in
June
when
everyone
at
Tara
was
assembled
on
the
back
porch
eagerly
watching
Pork
cut
the
first
half-ripe
watermelon
of
the
season
,
they
heard
hooves
on
the
gravel
of
the
front
drive
.
Prissy
started
languidly
toward
the
front
door
,
while
those
left
behind
argued
hotly
as
to
whether
they
should
hide
the
melon
or
keep
it
for
supper
,
should
the
caller
at
the
door
prove
to
be
a
soldier
.
Melly
and
Carreen
whispered
that
the
soldier
guest
should
have
a
share
and
Scarlett
,
backed
by
Suellen
and
Mammy
,
hissed
to
Pork
to
hide
it
quickly
.
"
Do
n't
be
a
goose
,
girls
!
There
's
not
enough
for
us
as
it
is
and
if
there
are
two
or
three
famished
soldiers
out
there
,
none
of
us
will
even
get
a
taste
,
"
said
Scarlett
.
While
Pork
stood
with
the
little
melon
clutched
to
him
,
uncertain
as
to
the
final
decision
,
they
heard
Prissy
cry
out
.
"
Gawdlmighty
!
Miss
Scarlett
!
Miss
Melly
!
Come
quick
!
"
"
Who
is
it
?
"
cried
Scarlett
,
leaping
up
from
the
steps
and
racing
through
the
hall
with
Melly
at
her
shoulder
and
the
others
streaming
after
her
.
Ashley
!
she
thought
.
