1 In a sky of iron the points of the Dipper hung like icicles and Orion flashed his cold fires.
2 The iron heavens seemed to melt and rain down sweetness.
3 The thousands of immigrants who'd be glad to fight for the Yankees for food and a few dollars, the factories, the foundries, the shipyards, the iron and coal mines--all the things we haven't got.
4 She nodded and he carefully handed her down the front steps and led her across the grass to the iron bench beneath the largest oak in the front yard.
5 Already the foundries were beginning to feel the lack of iron, for little or none came through the blockade, and the mines in Alabama were standing almost idle while the miners were at the front.
6 There were no iron picket fences, iron summerhouses, iron gates or even iron statuary on the lawns of Atlanta now, for they had early found their way into the melting pots of the rolling mills.
7 He was tall and gaunt and wore a pointed beard of iron gray, and his clothes hung on his spare figure as though blown there by a hurricane.
8 She wished that she could cry, do something to ease the iron fingers that were digging into her throat.
9 The railroads needed new cars to take the place of old ones and new iron rails to replace those torn up by the Yankees.
10 You ladies need have no alarm about the proximity of the Yankees, for General Johnston and his army stands there in the mountains like an iron rampart.
11 Yes, an iron rampart, he repeated, relishing his phrase.
12 After all, men understood these matters much better than women, and if he said General Johnston was an iron rampart, he must be one.
13 Johnston did stand like an iron rampart in the mountains above Dalton, one hundred miles away.
14 With those precious twin lines of iron in danger, the Confederates left their desperately defended rifle pits and, under the starlight, made a forced march to Resaca by the short, direct road.
15 It was still theirs, that slender iron line winding through the sunny valley toward Atlanta.