Polly had already heard the news from Sharpsburg, and as she brought “Brownie” to a walking pace up the lane Roxy ran along beside her and the two girls rejoiced that the armies had not come on the road leading past their homes, and that the battle of the Antietam, as it was henceforth called, had not been fought in these familiar fields.

“Brownie” was left in the yard, and Polly and Roxy went to their favorite seat under the big butternut tree, and Polly was amazed to hear the story of the huge eagle that had swooped down so near to the top of the ledge.

“If it had got hold of Ivy the eagle would have carried her off!” Roxy said solemnly, and then added: “And Grandma says I am not to go to the top of the ledge again; and the squirrels will forget all about me,” and Roxy’s smile vanished, for she had grown fond of “Lee” and “Jackson” and was sorry that she could not see them again.

But Polly’s thoughts were on the errand that had brought her to the Miller farm, and for a moment she made no response to Roxy; then she said:

“Roxy, what did you do with your paper animals?”

“They are in boxes in my closet,” replied the surprised Roxy, wondering why Polly wanted to know.

“Well, Roxy! All those soldiers who were wounded are in houses and farms and tents along the Antietam River; some of them will have to stay there for days, maybe weeks, before they can get out; and nothing to amuse them. And, Roxy, I thought perhaps you could take your circus over, and dress up in the old white hat, and the blue coat and the yarn whiskers, just as you did for your grandma’s birthday, and go to the tents and tell the men about the animals. I know it would make them laugh and cheer them up. It was so funny!” and Polly began to laugh as she recalled the queer little figure Roxy had made as she told the story of “capturing” the paper lions and elephants.

“Would you go with me, Polly?” Roxy asked, wondering if she would have courage to present the “circus” before strange soldiers.

“Yes; and probably your grandma would go too, if your mother did not. Let’s go ask your father what he thinks of my plan,” suggested Polly, and the two girls ran indoors to find Captain Delfield, who was resting on the old sofa in the sitting-room.

He listened to Polly’s plan, and said that it was an excellent idea, and praised her for thinking of it, and called Mrs. Delfield who also declared that she believed the sick and wounded soldiers would welcome Roxy and her “circus,” and that the little girl could in this way be of real service.

“When Grandma gets home she can tell us what she thinks about it; and if she approves she will be the best one to take you girls and make arrangements where Roxy shall take the ‘animals’ and tell how they were ‘captured,’” and a smile came over Mrs. Delfield’s face as she remembered how amusing Roxy’s “circus” had been.

Polly promised to ride over early the next morning, as the Delfields felt sure Mrs. Miller would return that night, and said she would be ready to start at once for Sharpsburg, and would bring the tall white hat, blue coat and yarn “whiskers” for Roxy.

Roxy went out to the yard to bid her friend good-bye.

“Oh, Polly! I hope I can do it right,” she said a little fearfully as Polly mounted the little brown horse and looked down from her seat in the saddle at Roxy’s sober face.

“Of course you’ll do it right, Roxy-Doxy. All you have to do is just make believe that you have real animals, and that you really did capture the lions in Africa, and the elephants in India! Oh, Roxy! I really want to see it again myself,” and Polly’s gay little laugh made Roxy forget her fears and smile happily.

“I guess I can; I am going to fix the animals all up this afternoon so they will be ready,” she said, and Polly nodded approvingly, promising to be over in good season the next day, and “Brownie” trotted briskly off.

Roxy ran back to the house and brought the boxes of paper animals down to the sitting-room, and seated at her little table with her box of water-color paints she worked busily until dinnertime, and for the greater part of the afternoon.

Roxy’s thoughts travelled off to the scene of the recent battle, near which the Union Army was encamped, and she began to wonder if she would see any of the great generals of whom her father spoke: General McClellan who her father said had saved the Union Army; General Burnside, who had so bravely held the Antietam Bridge, over which at his command the 51st Pennsylvania regiment and the 51st New York had rushed at a double quick which the Confederates could not resist, and had planted the Stars and Stripes on the opposite bank amid cheers from every part of the battlefield from where they could be seen.

The little Yankee girl began to realize that it would be a wonderful thing if she could really do something to help the soldiers who had faced such peril to protect the Union; and when early that evening Grandma Miller and Jacob reached home Roxy was the first to welcome them, and instantly began to tell Mrs. Miller of Polly’s plan for Roxy to take her circus to the hospital tents along the Antietam.

“I declare! Polly is a jewel! It will do a world of good! I wish I had thought of it myself,” said Mrs. Miller. “Many of those soldiers must lay in tents or in the near-by houses and barns, for long days with nothing to cheer or amuse them. Roxy,” and Grandma Miller’s hand rested gently on the little girl’s shoulder as they walked toward the house, “it will be a beautiful thing if you can make these men smile and, for a time, forget the cruelty of war,” she said.

“Polly says that no one could help laughing because I look so funny in the coat and hat and whiskers,” Roxy replied; and Mrs. Miller smiled and owned that Polly was right.

Mrs. Miller had that day visited several of the hospital tents, and she was sure the officers in charge would welcome Roxy and her “circus,” and it was decided that on the following day Grandma Miller should go with Polly and Roxy to the Hagerstown road beyond Sharpsburg.

Polly arrived in good season the next morning driving “Brownie,” harnessed to the open wagon in which she had so often driven Roxy about the country roads. Roxy’s circus costume, high hat, long blue coat and “whiskers,” were in a box under the wagon seat, and Roxy brought out her boxes containing the paper animals, and Grandma Miller had baskets of fruit, freshly baked bread, and rolls of old cotton cloth, for hospital use, that were packed in the back of the wagon; then Mrs. Miller and Roxy seated themselves beside Polly and drove off.

As they rode along Grandma Miller suggested that Roxy should repeat what she meant to say to the soldiers as she pointed out the animals and told of their capture; and as Roxy began her story of facing raging lions, following camels across the desert, and taming elephants, both Mrs. Miller and Polly laughed in delight.

Polly suggested one or two amusing descriptions for Roxy to add to her story, and so did Grandma Miller, and when they reached the historic town of Sharpsburg, with its old houses of stone or brick, its arched doorways and square porches with Colonial pillars, and began to see Union soldiers everywhere, Roxy was gaining courage and began to feel sure that she could describe imaginary dangers without even smiling at them.

Mrs. Miller directed Polly to follow the road leading north, toward Hagerstown, and told her to stop near a group of tents where sentinels paced slowly back and forth. One of these men smilingly answered Mrs. Miller’s questions.

“Yes,” he said, “General McClellan was in his tent,” and he would take him any message the ladies might wish delivered.

“Perhaps you will let my little granddaughter carry my message,” suggested Grandma Miller, and the sentinel said the little girl could go to the general’s tent with him, and helped the surprised Roxy from the wagon.

“You can tell the general your plan, Roxy, and ask his permission,” said Mrs. Miller, and before Roxy had time to ask a question she was hand in hand with the tall soldier walking toward a small tent in front of which stood two more sentinels one of whom, at word from Roxy’s companion, entered the tent; and a moment later Roxy found herself gazing up into the kindly dark eyes of the great General George B. McClellan.

“What can I do for you, little girl?” he asked kindly, and Roxy made her best curtsy, and said:

“If you please, sir, I have brought a circus to show the wounded soldiers. I think,” she added quickly, “it would make them laugh!”

“‘Make them laugh!’” repeated the general, and a little smile crept over his grave face.

“Well, my child, if you can do that for my poor boys you will be doing me the greatest possible service. Come in and tell me about it,” and Roxy followed him into the tent and eagerly began her story, to which the war-worn and tired general listened with interest, and when Roxy finished by asking anxiously if he thought her “circus” would not amuse the men in the hospital tents, adding: “I guess I look funny enough in the long blue coat and high white hat and whiskers to make anybody laugh,” General McClellan answered quickly: “I would like to see the circus myself, and I will go with you to the hospital tent near the Dunker Church. But what is your name, little girl?”

“Roxana Delfield. My father is a Union soldier, and he was wounded and we are at Grandma Miller’s,” she replied, as she walked beside the friendly soldier to where Grandma and Polly were anxiously waiting.

“Where is your real home?” continued the general, and Roxy smilingly responded:

“I am a Yankee girl; that is what everybody calls me, because my home is in Massachusetts.” Before the general could reply Grandma Miller came hurrying to meet them, and Roxy heard the general thank her for her thought for his suffering men, and tell her that they needed cheer and entertainment as much as they needed care and medicine.

“Brownie” was led off by one of the soldiers, and another took charge of Roxy’s boxes, while Grandma Miller, Polly and Roxy, carrying the baskets of fruit and food, followed General McClellan to the little stone church near the woods. One of the army doctors came hurrying to meet them, and quickly pointed out the tents where Roxy’s circus would be welcomed, and Polly helped Roxy make ready.

“Don’t be afraid, Roxy. Just make believe, remember, that you really did capture the lions,” said Polly smilingly, as General McClellan pointed out the first tent they were to enter.

Polly and Roxy, carrying the boxes of paper animals, went in and General McClellan gravely introduced Roxy as “Signor Delroxana, who has kindly brought his troupe of wild animals to amuse you.”

There was a murmur of laughter and exclamations of amusement from the rough cots where the soldiers lay as Roxy, in her queer costume, bowed to right and left, and, with Polly’s help, arranged her procession of animals on a long narrow table. When she picked up the hazel stick, that Polly had brought, and faced the eager-eyed men, who were all delighted and amused by this unexpected entertainment, and when Roxy gravely announced: “Gentlemen, these animals are not dangerous——” there was a burst of laughter and applause that made it difficult for Roxy not to laugh with them; but she remembered that would spoil it all, and she went on with the story of her adventures, interrupted now and then by the laughter of her listeners.

That day Roxy visited a number of tents, and the circus was evidently approved of by the soldiers, and by the anxious and tired doctors who thanked the little Yankee girl, and urged her to come again.

It was early twilight when Grandma Miller, Polly and Roxy, accompanied by a young officer in whose care General McClellan had left them, stood near the little stone church while “Brownie” was being harnessed.

The young officer helped them into the wagon, and, raising his cap, stood smiling up at Roxy.

“You don’t remember me, do you, little Yankee girl?” he asked, and Roxy’s face was for a moment grave and questioning, and then she smiled radiantly.

“Yes, yes, I do! You are the Yankee prisoner!” she declared.

“Who you helped escape!” he added, and he then told them that his name was Philip Carver, and he briefly described his flight to safety, and earnestly thanked the little girl who had brought him food, and, as he declared, saved his life.

“I meant to get a day’s leave and ride over to your farm before leaving here on purpose to thank you,” he added, and Mrs. Miller urged him to visit the farm and he gladly promised; and now they bade him a friendly good-bye and started for home.

“It has been a wonderful day,” Polly declared, as “Brownie” trotted swiftly through Sharpsburg along the road leading to the distant farm. “Just think, General McClellan shook hands with us, and praised Roxy! We will always remember to-day, won’t we, Roxy?”

“He praised you too, Polly!” Roxy eagerly declared. “I told him it was your plan to bring the circus, and he said you were a noble girl!”

Polly laughed happily. “I will remember that,” she said.

Roxy was tired out, and before they reached the farm she was nodding with sleep, and when Etta-Belle came running to lift her from the wagon Roxy was quite ready to let the negro woman carry her into the house.

But once indoors before the open fire she became wide awake and eager to tell her mother and father all the events of the exciting day: of General McClellan, and his friendly message to her father, and of all the laughter her “circus” had brought from the amused soldiers.

“And best of all, Father, I found the Yankee prisoner. His name is Philip Carver, and he is coming to spend the day,” she concluded happily.