“I have to be very careful lately,” he apologized for waving me off the previous day. “These Yankees suspect me and are always on the lookout. Now we will get the uniform in a hurry. I have several pieces of fine Confederate cloth just in that I will show you. Is your husband a private?”
“I thought not,” he said suavely. “What is his rank?”
“He is a captain of cavalry now. That is--he was when I left home. But I haven’t heard from him since. He may be major or colonel by now. Can’t you fix up a uniform that would do for him if he is a captain or a colonel or a major when I get back, or--that would do for a general?”
“Certainly, certainly, madam. Very wise of you to think of that.”
He showed me several pieces of very fine and beautiful cloth of Confederate gray, and I made my selection.
“The question is, how are you to get it across the line. In what way will you carry it?”
“Ah, that I don’t know. Captain Locke advised me to consult you.”
The tailor, who seemed to have had a liberal experience in such matters, considered for a moment.
“It is easy then. I will cut this cloth into lengths that will be all right for the tailor who makes the uniform. You and your mother can make it into two Balmoral skirts. That’s the way you get your cloth home. Now for the buttons and gold lace. Will you travel in the wrap you have on?”
“In one like it; I shall pack this in my trunk. The inspectors will not be so likely to condemn this if they find it in a trunk as they would be to condemn a new one. So I will get a new cloak South; mother will wear another.”
“I see.” He was impressed with the scheme and made a mental note of it. “Send me your cloaks and I’ll fix the buttons all right.”
Cloaks of the period were long, sacque-like affairs, double-breasted and with two rows of buttons. The tailor changed the buttons on our cloaks for Confederate brass buttons covered with wadding, and then with cloth like the wrap. The gold lace was to be folded flat and smooth. Mother was to rip the lining from the bottom of her satchel, lay the lace on the bottom, and carefully paste the lining back. We wanted to take Dan some flannel shirts, and again fashion favored us. Ladies wore wide plaid scarfs passed around their necks and falling in long ends in front. We got seven yards of fine soft flannel in a stylish plaid and cut it in two lengths. Mother, being quite tall, could wear a longer scarf than myself, so, between us, we managed to carry around our necks two good shirts for Dan.