bting the existence of the _cabaret_ and the nickname, the
De la Chaise estate, I think, came from a real De la Chaise, true nephew
of Pere la Chaise, the famous confessor of Louis XIV. The nephew was
royal commissary under Bienville, and one of the worthiest fathers of the
colony of Louisiana.--TRANSLATOR.
[8] In all likelihood described here as seen by the writer herself later,
on the journey.--TRANSLATOR.

III.

THE EMBARKATION.

You see, my dear child, at that time one post-office served for three
parishes: St. James, St. John the Baptist, and St. Charles. It was very
far from us, at the extremity of St. John the Baptist, and the mail came
there on the first of each month.

We had to pay--though the price was no object--fifty cents postage on a
letter. My father received several journals, mostly European. There was
only one paper, French and Spanish, published in New Orleans--"The
Gazette."[9] To send to the post-office was an affair of state. Our
father, you see, had not time to write; he was obliged to come to us
himself. But such journeys were a matter of course in those days.

"And above all things, my children," said my father, "don't have too much
baggage."

I should not have thought of rebelling; but Suzanne raised loud cries,
saying it was an absolute necessity that we go with papa to New Orleans,
so as not to find ourselves on our journey without traveling-dresses, new
neckerchiefs, and a number of things. In vain did poor papa endeavor to
explain that we were going into a desert worse than Arabia; Suzanne put
her two hands to her ears and would hear nothing, until, weary of strife,
poor papa yielded.

Our departure being decided upon, he wished to start even the very next
day; and while we were instructing our sisters Elinore and Marie
concerning some trunks that we should leave behind us, and which they must
pack and have ready for the flatboat, papa recommended to mamma a great
slaughter of fowls, etc., and especially to have ready for embarkation two
of our best cows. Ah! in those times if the planter wished to live well he
had to raise everything himself, and the poultry yard and the dairy were
something curious to see. Dozens of slaves were kept busy in them
constantly. When my mother had raised two thousand chickens, besides
turkeys, ducks, geese, guinea-fowls, and pea-fowls, she said she had lost
her crop.[10] And the quantity of butter and cheese! And all this without
counting the