was of marvelous speed, and a
letter from a friend of mine in Mississippi. He also brought a wife and
two children. To the latter he added a third before leaving. My daughter
was greatly interested in the old man's remarkable story, and made an
effort to help him. She took down a letter to you, which he dictated,
made seven copies of it and sent one to every Thomasville in the South.
They all came back to her. By good luck she retained one for her
scrapbook, and I enclose it that you may see how the faithful old fellow
was trying to reach you. He stayed around here farming and preaching
until 1870 when, hearing from a horse trader of a Macon and a Sparta in
Tennessee, he moved on. He had no trunk with him, and I am afraid your
cup is gone.

Very truly,
(Rev.) Amos Wells.

P. S.--I am informed that Eneas participated in a horse race in
Birmingham after leaving here, and won a great deal of money.

A. W.

Letter of Eneas inclosed in that of Rev. Mr. Wells:

Marse George: I am loss in er distric called Yellerhama, by a town name
o'Burningham. Ef you knows whar Burningham is, fer God's sake come ter
me fer I can't git ter you! Me an' Lady Chain is plum wore out.

Marse George, I been ter firs one an' den ernuther Thomasville, year in
an' year out, tell thar ain't no sense in hit. An' I ain't hit de right
one yit. Evy yuther place is name Thomasville er Macon er Washington er
Jefferson. Evybody knows whar I wanter go but me, an' shows me de road;
but all I kin do is ter keep er movin'. De firs Thomasville I got ter I
got back fo' times. Hit was harder ter lose it than hit was ter find it!

Marse George, I come ter one pond I couldn't see ercross an' de water
warn't no count. The last Thomasville was out most ter sundown an' I was
headin' fer ernuther when I struck er creek er mile wide an' Lady Chain
couldn't wade hit, so we turn back.

Marse George, Lady Chain's colt come, back in the secon' Jefferson, an'
he sholy is ole Lightnin's colt; long-legged, big-footed an' iron grey.
I been tryin' him out hyar an' thar an' thar ain't nothin' kin tech him.

Marse George, I got ernuther wife down in de third Washington an' am
bringin' her erlong. She weighs one hundred and sixty, an' picks fo'
hundred pounds er cotton er day. She b'longs ter you, same as me an'
Lady Chain an' de colt.

Marse George, er horse tra