If eyesight permitted, I might tell you some tales of plantation
doings which might perhaps amuse you, but I have said enough to give
you some idea of the old Southern life. All that I have said is within
bounds, but, after all, I fear I have not been able to give you an
adequate idea of the peacefulness and abundance of life upon a great
plantation.

GOING TO THE PLANTATION

Summer is over; the nights grow chill, and the autumnal tints,
beginning to glow upon the hillsides, tell the low-country folk that
the time draws near for the yearly flitting to their plantation homes.
The planter, who passes the hot season amid the breezy uplands, begins
to think of his whitening cotton fields, and grows impatient for the
frost, which must fall ere the family may venture into the land of
swamps and agues. He looks out upon the flower-beds, glowing with life
and quivering in the sunshine, and listens to the incessant
shrill-voiced cicada piping from the tree-tops, while the
insect-drone, in the heated, languid air, seems to speak of an
unending summer; but as "all things come to him who waits," so at
length come the frosts to the planter.

The week preceding the departure is a busy one, embracing, along with
the numberless good-byes, many important afterthoughts in the way of
providing the necessities required in the isolated home, where shops
are unknown. At length, however, the great boxes are closed, and stand
ready for the daylight start of the wagon; the bird-cage, the basket
of kittens, and the puppy are also committed by the children to "Ung
Jack," the teamster, who, with the broadest of smiles, promises
"little missis" and the "little masters" to take the best of care of
them.

Giving the baggage a day's start, the family's departure takes place
on the day following. After an early breakfast, Mammy and the younger
children bundle into the big carriage, mother and the rest of the
little mob follow in the _barouche_, while papa, who abhors the
confinement of a carriage, follows on horseback. Although the animal
which he bestrides is a noble specimen of his kind, still it must be
confessed that papa does not present a jaunty appearance as he jogs
soberly along; and yet, as he sits easily swaying in the saddle, there
is about him a careless grace which marks the natural horseman.

Three days are consumed upon the journey. It might be made in less
time; but the party prefer to take it easily, and at midday make