he army, and
wanted to make her his wife before leaving. So, early in '61, before
Major Waldron went to Virginia, there was a quiet wedding in the parlor
one night; and not many days afterwards the young Confederate soldier
donned his gray coat, and rode away with Forrest's Cavalry.

"And ere long a messenger came,
Bringing the sad, sad story--
A riderless horse: a funeral march:
Dead on the field of glory!"

After his death her baby came to gladden the young widow's desolate
life; and he is now almost grown, handsome and noble, and the idol of
his mother.

Diddie is a widow still. She was young and pretty when the war ended,
and has had many offers of marriage; but a vision of a cold white face,
with its fair hair dabbled in blood, is ever in her heart. So Diddie
lives for her boy. Their home is in Natchez now; for of course they
could never live in the old place any more. When the slaves were free,
they had no money to rebuild the houses, and the plantation has never
been worked since the war.

The land is just lying there useless, worthless; and the squirrels play
in and out among the trees, and the mocking-birds sing in the
honeysuckles and magnolias and rose-bushes where the front yard used to
be.

And at the quarters, where the happy slave-voices used to sing "Monkey
Motions," and the merry feet used to dance to "Cotton-eyed Joe," weeds
and thick underbrush have all grown up, and partridges build their nests
there; and sometimes, at dusk, a wild-cat or a fox may be seen stealing
across the old play-ground.

Tot, long years ago, before the war even, when she was yet a pure,
sinless little girl, was added to that bright band of angel children who
hover around the throne of God; and so she was already there, you see,
to meet and welcome her "papa" when his stainless soul went up from
Malvern Hill.

Well, for "Mammy" and "Daddy Jake" and "Aunt Milly" and "Uncle Dan'l,"
"dat angel" has long since "blowed de horn," and I hope and believe they
are happily walking "dem golden streets" in which they had such
implicit faith, and of which they never wearied of telling.

And the rest of the negroes are all scattered; some doing well, some
badly; some living, some dead. Aunt Sukey's Jim, who married Candace
that Christmas-night, is a politician. He has been in the Legislature,
and spends his time in making long and exciting speeches to the loyal
leaguers against the Southern whites, all unmindful of his happy