ve
brothers that I have met, and if it were not for the peculiarity in
their voices, I should say that there was not the most distant
relationship existing between them. This one is very handsome, quiet,
and what Dickens calls "in a high-shouldered state of deportment." He
looks like a moss-covered stone wall, a slumbering volcano, a--what you
please, so it suggests anything unexpected and dangerous to stumble
over. A man of indomitable will and intense feeling, I am sure. I
should not like to rouse his temper, or give him cause to hate me. A
trip to the sugar-house followed, as a matter of course, and we showed
him around, and told him of the fun we had those two nights, and taught
him how to use a paddle like a Christian. We remained there until
supper-time, when we adjourned to the house, where we spent the
remainder of the evening very pleasantly. At least I suppose he found
it so, for it was ten o'clock before he left.

* * * * *

Just now I was startled by a pistol shot. Threatening to shoot her, Mr.
Carter playfully aimed Miriam's pistol at her, and before he could take
fair aim, one barrel went off, the shot grazing her arm and passing
through the armoir just behind. Of course, there was great
consternation. Those two seem doomed to kill each other. She had played
him the same trick before. He swore that he would have killed himself
with the other shot if she had been hurt; but what good would that do
her?

Sunday, November 9th.

I hardly know how these last days have passed. I have an indistinct
recollection of rides in cane-wagons to the most distant field, coming
back perched on the top of the cane singing, "Dye my petticoats," to
the great amusement of the General who followed on horseback. Anna and
Miriam, comfortably reposing in corners, were too busy to join in, as
their whole time and attention were entirely devoted to the consumption
of cane. It was only by singing rough impromptus on Mr. Harold and
Captain Bradford that I roused them from their task long enough to join
in a chorus of "Forty Thousand Chinese." I would not have changed my
perch, four mules, and black driver, for Queen Victoria's coach and
six.

And to think old Abe wants to deprive us of all that fun! No more
cotton, sugar-cane, or rice! No more old black aunties or uncles! No
more rides in mule teams, no more songs in the cane-field, no more