ygone bustle
and mint-julep hilarity. In our struggles with the porter to obtain the
little items of soap, water, and towels, we were convinced that we had
arrived too late, and that for perfect satisfaction we should have been
here before the war. It was not always as now. In colonial days the
accommodations and prices at inns were regulated by law. In the old
records in the court-house we read that if we had been here in 1777, we
could have had a gallon of good rum for sixteen shillings; a quart bowl
of rum toddy made with loaf sugar for two shillings, or with brown sugar
for one shilling and sixpence. In 1779 prices had risen. Good rum sold
for four pounds a gallon. It was ordered that a warm dinner should cost
twelve shillings, a cold dinner nine shillings, and a good breakfast
twelve shillings. But the item that pleased us most, and made us regret
our late advent, was that for two shillings we could have had a "good
lodging, with clean sheets." The colonists were fastidious people.

Abingdon, prettily situated on rolling hills, and a couple of thousand
feet above the sea, with views of mountain peaks to the south, is a
cheerful and not too exciting place for a brief sojourn, and hospitable
and helpful to the stranger. We had dined--so much, at least, the public
would expect of us--with a descendant of Pocahontas; we had assisted on
Sunday morning at the dedication of a new brick Methodist church, the
finest edifice in the region--a dedication that took a long time, since
the bishop would not proceed with it until money enough was raised in
open meeting to pay the balance due on it: a religious act, though it
did give a business aspect to the place at the time; and we had been the
light spots in the evening service at the most aristocratic church of
color. The irresponsibility of this amiable race was exhibited in the
tardiness with which they assembled: at the appointed time nobody was
there except the sexton; it was three quarters of an hour before the
congregation began to saunter in, and the sermon was nearly over before
the pews were at all filled. Perhaps the sermon was not new, but it was
fervid, and at times the able preacher roared so that articulate sounds
were lost in the general effect. It was precisely these passages of
cataracts of sound and hard breathing which excited the liveliest
responses,--"Yes, Lord," and "Glory to God." Most of these responses
came from the "Amen corner." The sermon contained th