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From: "Stereograph" <stereograph@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Over the Line pt3 of 3 {Stereograph} (Mg nc caution ped pett hist) 
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Date: Sun, 22 Oct 2006 14:10:02 -0400
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The following is a work of fiction.  It should not be taken as a 
guide
to behavior in the real world.  The people, places and events exist
only in the mind of the Author.  This is a work of pornographic 
fiction,
it should not be read by those who are under the legal age to do so 
in
the jurisdiction where you live.  It may, or may not, contain matter
illegal to read where you live.  Please know and obey the laws of 
your
own country, the Author cannot be responsible for the laws of every
country connected to the internet.  Neither the Author, nor society
condone some of the actions presented within.

Please, enjoy the story.

<1st attachment, "Over_the_Line_pt3.txt" begin>

                            OVER THE LINE
     WARNING: This story contains depictions of sex between an adult
and a child below the age of twelve. If this bothers you please read
no farther. It is set in a time of war and contains depictions of
violence. 

Codes: Mg nc caution ped pett hist

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                           Into the Breech

"We missed it." said Daisy.

"We didn't miss it, we couldn't."

"It's dark.  We walked right by."  The child was cranky.  No surprise,
she'd been denied sleep, then asked to defer something she wanted.  I'd
started too early and dawn hadn't come yet.  She wouldn't let be.

"More than a mile of heavy woods just by the road, with a rock taller
than a man the road jogs around.  That's hard to miss, even in the dark."
I might have been a little cranky too.  "See any soldiers shoving muskets
in your face?  The army camps start just past the wood.  You don't want
to meet those soldiers."  Would that I had known.

"I'm related to some of those soldiers.  They'd treat me nice.  They
ain't lost!"

"Aren't lost."  I started to whistle 'Arkansas Traveler', then realized
Daisy was too young to be allowed into the places that routine played.
She didn't know all the jokes about a lost City Man and lazy Country Man.

"Keep it up and I'm going to deliver one hogtied girl, with an address tag
filled out 'TO: Captains Rutledge or Smith', to the nearest gray clad
soldier I can find."  The threat didn't work.  Daisy just stuck out her
tongue at me.  Fortune smiled anyway.  False dawn lightened the sky.  It
showed a wood ahead, a large one.  The barn I was passing had the family
name I'd been told was a landmark done up in different colored shingles.
We soon found the rock, and behind it the trail head we sought.  "Told
you we weren't lost."

We were a good way down the trail when I first heard voices.  I wasn't
concerned about speaking to a patrol.  I come from southeast Ohio, hard
by the river.  We speak the same as our neighbors across the river in
Virginia, now West Virginia since the post secession split.  My voice
is as southern as any Tennessee man's.  Daisy was a different story.  She
speaks with the voice of a Yankee from a southern point of view.  New
York and Pennsylvania are the largest, most powerful states in the Union.
Even the rest of the states still in the Union thought they needed to mind
their own business.  To the South the way she speaks defines the people
they wanted to be rid of.  Telling a patrol she had a Grandfather in the
Tennessee Congress or two Confederate Captains as uncles wouldn't be
believed, if she spoke.  "Keep your mouth closed, Daisy.  Let me do the
talking if any must be done.  Remember 'children should be seen, not
heard' now, if not at any other time in your life."

"Alright, can't we avoid them?" Daisy asked.

"I intend to.  We can't hide, that would look suspicious.  Look for
mushrooms, and keep quiet."  I had heard, from Mrs. Beam, that the wood
we were in was famous for it's mushrooms.  The ones that garnished dinner
yesterday had come from there, and were notable.  I got busy thinking up
a story to tell the patrol, if that was who we'd heard.

Whoever it was came closer, I could make out words.

"...week of night patrols is cruel.  Just for failing inspection!
Breakfast will be cold and picked over by the time we get back."

"Shut up Private." came a second voice.

"It's not fair, Sarge!  Nobody does night patrols any other time.  Who
needs them?"  The voices were closer yet.

"Shut up Private!  The squad failed inspection.  You, yourself, failed
inspection, badly.  I'm responsible for the lot of you.  The Captain
could have come up with worse punishment.  Keep it up and I'll clout you
good!"

"Sarge, it ain't fair...Hello, who have we got here?"  Two soldiers in
grey stepped around the curve.

"Why don't we ask them?" said the man in Sergeant's stripes.  "What are
you doing here Mr.?"

"Saunders, Albert Saunders at your service, sir.  My niece and I are
hunting mushrooms.  Have you seen any good ones?"

"You're not from around here." said the Private.  "This is a bit off the
path, for travelers.  I think we should take you in for questioning."

"Let them answer, Private.  Seems harmless enough.  Mr. Saunders where
are you from?"

"I was born in Virginia," well it's true, I was.  "We're here visiting
with some of my mothers kin.  My aunt said the best mushrooms for miles
around come from this woods.  We came to find some."

"A little early for mushroom hunting." said the Private.  "Sarge, we both
know folks cut through these woods to avoid the armies.  I think they're
spies!"

"My aunt promised omelets, if we can find mushrooms for them.  You should
try them.  I'll bring you eggs tomorrow morning, if you like.  Be better
than an army breakfast."  Of course I had no intention of coming back.

"Mr. Saunders, you don't belong here."  The Sergeant was being reasonable.
"Go home now, this area is off limits."

"They're spies!  I know they are!  He don't talk like no Tennessee man."

"Are not!" said Daisy.  Both soldiers went wide-eyed.  The Private swung
his musket.  I knew no more.

I came to.  My head hurt, bad.  I was on the ground, bleeding into my eyes
from a cut above the ear.  The private had Daisy's arms gripped behind
her.  She was screaming "Let me go!  Let me go!  You'll be sorry if you
don't!"

"Looks like you were right about them being spies."

The Sergeant turned toward me.  He swung the butt end of his musket in my
direction.  I knew no more.

I came to again.  This time I was bound at the wrists, elbows, and ankles.
My nose felt broken.  I though I might be missing some teeth, upper jaw
felt like that.  The private still held Daisy.  "Cute kid.  Ain't had no
pussy in a long time.  Sarge, I want to take her.  You want some too?"

"She just a kid, leave her be for a couple years."

"Pussies pussy.  She'll be shot, if we take her in.  She ain't got
a couple years.  You can have firsts, if you want some.  I'll hold her."

"If we do this, we'll have to kill them both, you know that?  Can't
have them talk.  Rape's a capital crime in this army."  Through all this
conversation Daisy was screaming.  I couldn't blame her.  I couldn't help
her either.  No matter what I did my bindings came no looser.

"They'll be shot anyway, doesn't matter if we do that here.  Swamp's a
good place to hide them.  Easy to dig, and the critter's will eat them
fast.  Go first, Sarge.  I want her wet and open.  Even seconds, with her
will be cleaner and tighter than any camp whore."

I yelled, "Leave her be!  She's just a child, and she's two Captain's in
camp for uncles.  You'll swing for sure!  Leave her alone and we promise
not to tell."  They ignored me.  I don't think they believed me.

The Sergeant ripped Daisy's dress, from top to waistband.  He pulled a
knife and cut the band.  He ripped it the rest of the way and cut the
cord on her bloomers.  The private drooled, he was so excited.  The
sergeant ripped Daisy's shift open in one move.  She was now bare at
the front, fallen bloomers at her ankles.

Daisy screamed and screamed.  I kept yelling for them to stop.  The
private kept imploring the sergeant to hurry.  The sergeant went on
businesslike as if he were skinning a calf.  He nodded to the private who
dragged Daisy down to the ground.  The sergeant tried to open Daisy's
legs.  Failing, he slapped her across the face several times.  He yanked
at her legs again.  I thought I heard a joint pop.  He thrust at her,
with his cock.  He bent almost doubled.  He slapped her again, then
carefully pushed himself into her entrance.  Seated, he shoved himself
in, hard.  The private pinned one of Daisy's arm's under his knee and
tried to put his cock in her mouth.  Daisy bit him, he punched her.

At first I though my head was pounding, then I knew at least one horse
was coming.  All the noise we were making masked the sound, but I heard
it through the ground.  It was many more than one horse.  In moments a
dozen, or more, men on horses came out of the brush all around us.  They
wore grey.  The most junior rank I could see was Captain.  There were
several Majors and Colonels.  There were men I couldn't see clearly.

"Sergeant Davies, What is going on here?"  A Capt. spoke this.  Any
reply was interrupted by another Capt. rushing forward, drawing his
sword.

"That's my niece!" he yelled.  Someone got hold of his reins, stopping
his horse.  A couple of officers, with drawn swords, advanced on the two
soldiers.  Daisy curled into a ball, the Captain crouched down beside
her.

"Daisy, honey.  It's alright now." he said.

She looked up and said, "Uncle Jack!  They hurt me.  Bad!"  She sprung
up and moulded herself to the Captain, crying loudly.

A Colonel pointed at a couple of officers, "Get the men bound."  He
pointed at another, "Get that one freed.  Be careful, he looks like he's
badly hurt."  The gentleman assigned to me pulled out a jackknife and went
to work.

A Major started in, to no-one in particular, "Shit!  We've got the whole
command structure here.  We're going to have to bring in damned outsiders
for the damned court-martial.  Hell, we..."  He was cut off at that point
by others call on him to watch his mouth around a child.  He colored and
hung his head in shame.

One who had chastened the Major stepped out of the crowd.  He wore a star.
The Major's right, but we can worry about that later.  He pointed at
someone.  "Go get orderlies with stretchers and a wagon."  A horse clopped
off.  "Someone find some cover for the girl."  A major appeared with a
spare shirt.  He handed it to Daisy's uncle.  "Get this blood mopped up,
and find out how bad off they are."  The captain tending me started to
comply.

Jack cleaned Daisy with a canteen and rag offered to him, and dressed
Daisy as if she were an infant.  A cord, offered by someone, fixed her
bloomers.  Daisy said and did nothing during all this.  Her  uncle looked
my way.  "Jack Smith, I'm married to Daisy's aunt Pansy."

Time to lie.  I hoped Daisy would go along, if she ever spoke again,
"Albert Saunders,  I'm married to her father's little sister."

The orderlies arrived and we were carted off to the confederate camp.
Jack handed Daisy to me, she hugged me tight.  "Take good care of her.
I'll be along later." he said.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                             Grey Days

Our wounds were treated.  We were given a tent among the General's staff.
Daisy was withdrawn, saying little beyond what was required.  She never
left the tent, we used a night-jar for her wastes.  She wouldn't use the
jar herself, we sat her on it whenever we thought it was time.  If we
were right, she went.  If not she sat there until she did need to go.
She wouldn't mess herself, the one time I left her too long she stood
before me and did the child in distress dance.  I left her without
bloomers to avoid the extra work.

She wouldn't eat on her own.  She ate what was put in her mouth.  For
our first breakfast someone made us the most perfect mushroom omelets
I've ever had.  They were served with bacon and buttered grits.  Daisy
ate hers, spoon-fed, with no more relish than if it were sawdust.

Most of her care fell to me.  Jack spent every minute he could spare
helping, but a company commander's work is a heavy load.  He brought
most of our meals and helped feed Daisy.  Her dressing and cleaning was
done almost exclusively by me.

The Brigade, and sutler's camp, did all they could to atone for the
shame of their soldiers behavior.  Within an hour of settling into the
tent a dress showed up.  It wasn't new and was too big for Daisy.  It
was mended with obvious loving care.  It was spotlessly clean.  Was this
a treasured keepsake of some girl recently graduated to a woman's clothes,
or her mother?  Perhaps saved to pass down to a younger relative?  It
seemed so.  Half an hour after the dress, a woman, from the camp, arrived
offering to tailor it to Daisy.  Before nightfall a shift was left by the
door.  It was a better fit than the dress had been, but still large.  Did
some child now go without hers?  Late the next morning a group of girls,
all within a year of Daisy's age, came by with a setup for tea.  The
woman who minded them said it was the girl's idea.  Daisy sat on the
stool set for her, but did not eat or talk.

Daisy spent the days in her own world.  Very quietly she chanted, or
sang children's rhymes.  She played 'cat's cradle' with string.  She
cut shapes out of paper, any shapes except dolls or hearts.  I still
have a paper daisy cut by her then as a keepsake.  It will be buried
with me.  A doll showed up, Daisy ignored it.

We were questioned, both for the upcoming trial and by the Scout's
Captain.  My papers were checked, the court order for Daisy's guardian-
ship most closely.  I told them that I was a business traveler stranded
by the post secession border closings.  I'd found my sister-in-law's
mother, after a long search, and been recruited to return my niece to
her parents.  I was questioned about my movements in the Confederacy,
closely, but the tale was a common one on both sides of the border.
Daisy did not respond to the questioners at all.  She seemed not to
notice them.

Captain Smith confirmed the story of Daisy's stranding, and that his
mother-in-law had been trying to find someone trustworthy to take her
home.

The trial was held on the third day.  Daisy was ruled incompetent to
testify.  The soldiers were convicted on the testimony of myself and
fourteen senior Confederate officers.  They were condemned to hang.
I waved the right to witness the hanging on Daisy's part and mine.

Two days later we were passed to the Union in an exchange of wounded
soldiers and refugees.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                              Blue Days

The medical officer in charge of the exchange must have had some advance
notice from the Confederates about us.  Daisy and I were taken to a house
in which the command of the local forces was set up.  We were given a
room to ourselves.  A doctor arrived as soon as we'd entered it.  I
revealed that I was an officer, lost in a raid, reporting back for duty.
He called in a Colonel, then set about checking us.  He deemed our prior
treatment as good as could be done.

The Colonel arrived and interviewed me.  My superior was called in and
confirmed my story.  I was in the Army again.

I was placed on the sick list.  We kept the room.  My only duty was to
answer questions about what I had seen among the Confederates.

There was only one bed to share in the room.  Daisy slept with me, but I
may as well not have been there as far as she was concerned that first
night.  She did show more signs of noticing the world around her.  She
went, with me to guide her, to the privy and used it on her own.  She
picked at her food.  She looked at me as I washed her that night.  She
still spoke to no-one the whole first day.

In the morning I dressed Daisy and she asked for her bloomers.  I put
them on her.  Those were the first words she spoke, to me, since I told
her to be silent in the woods.

At breakfast, eaten with the rest of the inhabitants of the house, I told
her to eat her eggs.  She did.  I took her to the sutler's camp.  I asked
her to pick out clothing and toiletries.  She showed an interest in the
wares presented to us.  She tried on several dresses, changing herself.
She asked the merchants questions.  In the end she selected two dresses,
plus underthings, and I bought them with coin supplied by her grandmother
before we departed.  Daisy seemed to return to life.  We ran into a girl,
about Daisy's age, who invited her to join a game of some sort.  Daisy
looked to me for permission, I nodded.  For the next quarter hour she
played something that looked like 'Duck Duck Goose' to me.  She did not
open up fully to the game, or the other girls, but sat in the circle and
played.

That evening, just before supper, she asked "Are you ready to go down,
Mr. Saunders?"

"If you are Mrs. Saunders"  She beamed a smile at me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                             Redemption?

We prepared for bed that night in something like our manner on the road.
I thought to let her clean and dress herself, but she asked me to do
those things.  When I washed her she gave me a hesitant smile that
changed to a real one as we went on.  I saved the naughty parts for last,
afraid of her reaction.   She grinned with mischief in her eye, "Wash my
tits Mr. Saunders."  I washed, gently at first.  Her smile waned, then
brightened.  She thrust her chest against my hands.  "It doesn't hurt,
done in love!"  I think she was talking to herself.  I'd grown used to
caring for her without response, doing the most private things, out of
necessity.  I'd washed her tits every night.  Daisy turned and bent.
"Wash my butt, Mr. Saunders."  I soaped, and caressed, and squeezed those
little hams with abandon.  Daisy was giggling before long.  I rinsed and
Daisy turned again.  She looked me in the eye for a long time, smile gone.
"Wash my..."  She colored and fled to a corner.  I let her be.

It took some time, perhaps ten minutes, for her to return.  She stammered,
"W-wa wash me?"  I extended my hand.  Daisy inched closer, then stopped.
"Help me do this, please?"  I moved closer, fear clouded her face.  I
stopped.

"You don't have to do it if don't want to, Daisy.  No one will think less
of you if you don't.  You have many years ahead of you before your old
enough anyone will expect you to let them touch you there."

"I have to know it won't hurt if done in love.  Please help me."

I move a few inches closer.  I was all but touching her sex.  Naught
but an inch separated her sex and my fingers.  She bit her lip.  Then
she moved that last inch.  She screwed her face up, anticipating pain.
I caressed her, the lightest of strokes.  She opened her eyes, bit her
lip, and moved closer.  She squatted a bit, both opening her legs and
increasing the pressure.  I stroked, letting her control the pressure.

"It doesn't hurt.  It doesn't hurt!"  Her smile returned.

We moved to the bed.  I continued to caress her, once there, kissing
her deeply.  She responded with enthusiasm.  We kissed and explored one
another for a time.  Suddenly she came.  It wasn't the strongest I seen
from her, but she smiled as she did so.  We cuddled.

"Put it in me." she whispered into my ear.  I looked at her face, the fear
was back.  "Put your cock in me, show me that doesn't hurt too."  She
was pleading.  The fear stayed on her face.

"Daisy, your too young for that.  It very likely will hurt.  That is
one reason I never tried to do it before.  I shouldn't have done any of
the things I've done to you, but I never want to hurt you, ever."

"I'm a big girl now!  I've felt a cock in me in hatred, I have to feel
one in me out of love.  I have to know what love is like.  Please?"

"If we do this, and I'm not sure we should, you will have to control
how hard and deep we go."  She started to protest, but I cut her off.
"I know you don't know how.  I'll talk you through it.  You have to
decide what to do.  That will allow you to stop, if anything starts to
hurt.  By the time I can figure out something hurts you it would be too
late.  I never, never want to hurt you for one second."

She was clearly thinking this over.  She opened her mouth several times
to ask questions, then stopped to think some more.

Finally she said, "Why did the soldiers hurt me?"

I was not prepared for that.  "That's more than one question, it depends
on whether you mean 'Why did what they did hurt?' or 'Why did they want
to do things that hurt me?'  Which is it Daisy?"

"Both!"  It was clear she understood the illogic of her answer.  The
mischievous grin gave her away.  Her face grew serious.  "Why did it
hurt when he pushed inside me?  Cindy said if felt really good.  That's
why she let a boy do it.  You've called it 'taking pleasure' more than
once.  Why did it hurt me?"

"The soldiers did not care if they hurt you or not.  The Sergeant entered
you against your will.  If you don't want a man in you it will hurt, no
matter what else happens.  If you do want a man in you, you both need to
prepare.  That's where the kissing and touching come in.  It lets you
relax and get wet inside.  Remember the wet stuff on my cock?  You make
same stuff, but it's inside your sex.  Both work to make things slippery.
That's one reason the sergeant hurt you.  A cock inside, without
lubrication, is like rubbing a knee against a rug.

"So if I want you inside, and we kiss and touch first, it won't hurt?"
Daisy looked puzzled for a second.  "You said it might still hurt me.
Why?"

"You're young for this.  Your hand isn't as big as your mom's, is it?"

"No.  Do you mean I'm not as big inside as mom?"

"Yes."  I hoped she really understood.  My perverted desire wanted to
lie with Daisy, as she asked.  My will, and conscience, didn't.

"But the sergeant did fit in!  You can too."

"You can stretch inside.  You can stretch big enough for a baby to
come out.  Doing so might hurt, a lot."

"I want to try!" said Daisy.  My desire won my will over.  My conscience
disagrees to this day.

I leaned in to kiss.  Daisy proved she had been listening.  She moulded
herself to me, one knee on the bed the other across my hips, and rubbed
her whole body against mine.  Her breasts rubbed my shoulder, her sex my
hip.  I moved my kisses to all her favorite spots on her face.  One hand
worked her back, butt, thighs, and sex.  The other moved over back, ribs,
and wormed in to caress her breast.  I rolled us over so Daisy was
underneath.  I planted kisses, rapid and wet, all over her front.  I kept
one hand resting lightly on her sex.  I let her move herself against it.

"I want you inside," she said.  "We already did it with your hand.  Am I
wet enough yet?"  I decided to test.  I pushed my finger into her slit,
then further.  "That feels good!  Why haven't you done it before?"  She
was wet, wet enough was something I couldn't judge.

"If you still want to try me in you, we can try it now."  I was nervous.
"I'll lie on my back.  Climb on top."  We made the readjustments in
position.  "I'll hold my cock up, you use your hand to put it where my
finger was.  Sit down on it, slowly.  Stop if it hurts.  Do you
understand?"

"I think so."  She sat down, the head started in.  "It doesn't hurt, but
it feels like when..."  She blushed.  She opened her mouth to speak, then
closed it and looked down.

"Like when you poop hard?"  She nodded, blushing again.  "Go a little at
a time.  Let yourself stretch."  This time she didn't listen.  She
continued to sit down, slow, but didn't stop.  Soon she was down as far
as she could go.  "Stop!  Rest now, let me know when you don't feel so
much pressure."

"I can feel you!  Even more than I do with my hand.  Can't we move it now?
Like you did outside?"  She was smiling.  Her expression was eager.  I
wiggled underneath her, moving it around, but not in and out.  She face
lit up, her smile broadened.

"Stretch, there's time for more, later."  I moved so that my cock wiggled
back an forth against her insides.  I moved my finger in the top of her
crack.  Daisy tittered.  I changed to a side to side motion, then circles.
I was trying to give her a range of feelings to amuse her, but also to
stretch her as well.

"It doesn't feel so tight anymore," she said.  "Can we try to move now?"
I nodded and she lifted herself up.  It was still tight, to me.  She sat
down again, harder.  "It works!  I don't hurt.  I want to go on now, can
we?"

"Go ahead, don't start out so hard.  Get used to the feel first."  She
kept going.  She wasn't using the whole length of me, perhaps afraid of
pulling out.  I was not going to complain.  I kept my finger working as
well.  I wanted Daisy to enjoy this.

"My legs are starting to ache.  Can't we turn over and let you do some
of the work?"  I had her tuck in her arms and legs.  I rolled us, still
connected.  There was some fumbling to sort out limbs and get my weight
off her.  It caused her to giggle, but we were soon back at it.  I felt
confident enough to increase the stroke and pace.  Daisy was soon lost
in her own pleasure.

She came, as strong as I had ever seen her come.  Her cries so loud that
fear of being discovered distracted me from my own arousal.  No one came
to check.  It took a few minutes for me to calm down.  "Will it be
alright if I continue?" I asked Daisy.  She nodded.  I started again.
She soon showed signs of revived arousal.  I vowed not to leave her
hanging, but I was close myself.

I came, hard.  I don't remember ever coming harder.  Through my limited
attention to the world outside I heard Daisy gasp.  "I feel you pumping!
The wet stuff is coming out!"  She giggled at that.  I remembered my vow.
I kept stroking, even though my spent cock was ready to stop.  I was
beginning to get sore as Daisy came again, hard and loud.

We cuddled as usual. I thought Daisy asleep, when she said, "Thank you,
Uncle Al.  Thank you for showing me love.  I think I want to finish
growing up again.  I'm done playing married now, alright."

I agreed. It was the least I could do after all that had happened.  We
shared a little peck to seal the end of the game.  Daisy rolled onto the
bed and went to sleep.  Sleep was a long, long time coming for me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
                           Homeward Bound

In the morning Daisy shooed me from the room while she washed and dressed.
In trousers and shirt alone I went to the kitchen and begged a cup of
coffee.  When I returned it was my turn in the room.  Daisy sat on the
porch.

I joined her.  She taunted me into chasing her, then looking behind rather
than forward, ran into a drummer boy.  The two exchanged greetings, of some
sort, and began an energetic chase of there own.  I noticed a grey haired
Major fondly watching them.  I introduced myself.

"Major Snelling, the boy's my grandson."

"Looks like they're having fun.  Getting the grass stains out of his
uniform will keep someone busy."  I chuckled.

The major chuckled too.  "Not my job, it's good to see a little fun
around here.  I'm sorry about your niece's nightmares.  Those are some
good thick walls in the house, if I heard her it must have been bad.
After what she's been through it's a wonder she's up to playing now."

By now they had picked up another drummer, a passing sutler's girl, and
a soldier.  I let her play until the rest had to leave for duties.

We boarded a boat for Pittsburgh that afternoon.

Daisy was done playing married, but she didn't shut me out.  We shared a
berth and she snuggled against me each night.  She did have some night-
mares, but not the screaming sort.  More like whimpering and holding me
tight until she returned to sleep.  She got into the common sort of
mischief during the day.  Much of each day was spent talking, with me,
and with a few other passengers.  Each evening she nestled against me,
while I smoked a pipe on deck, prattling away.

The last morning, Pittsburgh in sight, she said, "I love you Uncle Al.
I'm not ready for more, you were right on that.  If you come to court
me, when I'm old enough, I'll say yes."  She smiled at me, a big, silly,
child's grin.  With tongue in teeth.

                                THE END
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Taken from the 'Confessions of Brother Dunstan' a manuscript found in the
ruins of St. Steven's, Covington, Kentucky after the flood of 1921.

<1st attachment end>


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