we capered and laughed,
and what strawberries we picked, and how much of a child A. turned into.
They all six "played run" till they had counted twelve and then they
tumbled down and rolled in the grass, till I wondered what their bones
were made of. I do not see that we could have found a better place for
the children. What with the seven calves, the cows, the sheep, the two
pet lambs, the dogs, hens, chickens, horses, etc., they are perfectly
happy. Just now they have been to see the butter made and to get a drink
of buttermilk. We have lots of strawberries and cream, pot-cheese,
Johnny-cakes, and there are always eggs and milk at our service. From
diplomatic motives I advise you not to say too much about Hunter to
people asking questions. It would entirely spoil its only great charm if
a rush of silly city folks should scent it out. It is really a primitive
place and that you can say. Mr. Coe preached an excellent sermon on
Sunday morning.

_To Mrs. Smith, Hunter, July 4, 1864._

I have just been off, all alone, foraging, and have come home bringing
my sheaves with me: ground pine and red berries, with which I have made
a beautiful wreath. I have also adorned the picture of Gen. Grant with
festoons of evergreens, conjuring him the while not to disappoint our
hopes, but to take Richmond. Alas! you may know, by this time, that he
can't; but in lack of news since a week ago, I can but hope for the
best. I've taken a pew and we contrive to squeeze into it in this wise:
first a child, then a mother, then a child, then an Annie, then a child,
the little ones being stowed in the cracks left between us big ones. Mr.
R., the parson, looking fit to go straight into his grave, was up here
to get a wagon as he was going for a load of chips. His wife was at
home sick, without any servant, had churned three hours and the butter
wouldn't come, and has a pew full of little ones. Oh, my poor sisters in
the ministry! my heart aches for them. Mr. R. gave us a superior sermon
last Sunday.... I know next to nothing about what is going on in the
world. But George writes that he feels decidedly pleased with the look
of things. He has been carrying on like all possessed since I left,
having company to breakfast, lunch, dinner, and finally went and had Chi
Alpha all himself.

_July 25th._--We went one day last week on a most delightful excursion,
twenty-one of us in all. Our drive was splendid and the scenery sublime;
even we distinguish