ys playing some trick upon them. Sometimes
at dinner when any of your little cousins were with us and would show
by the interest expressed in their faces, when the dessert was being
brought in, how eager they were to be "helped," "Grandpa" would quietly
and gravely say, "'Aunty,' you needn't give Peter (or perhaps it might
be Charless) any of that, he is not fond of 'Charlotte Russe,'" (or
whatever the nice thing might happen to be), when Peter, taken aback,
half believing, half doubting, would present such a ludicrous picture,
by the mingled expression of his countenance that no one present, not
even little Peter himself, (when he found out it was all a joke), could
avoid a hearty laugh. And thus with a thousand little ways which
fascinated the children he was decidedly a favorite among them. He
never forgot what he liked, and how he felt, when a boy, and could
easily enter into the feelings of a boy and be a sympathizing friend
and companion.

I know some little boys whose parents lived on Pine Street, and
although this was by no means the direct road from "the garden," they
used to watch for "dear Mr. Charless'" return from that oft-frequented
place in the cool of the evening, for he would be sure to come that way
and stop a minute to fill their hats with peaches or apples, etc. One
of these little boys, attracted one evening by a glorious sunset, which
stretched its golden streaks and varied hues far and wide, lighting up
the azure blue with unusual brilliancy and beauty, asked, "Mamma, is n't
that like heaven?" "Something like it, I expect, my son."
"There's where good Mr. Charless will go, when he dies!" said the
little boy. And thus it was, even children felt the influence of such
a godly life, as that of your beloved grandfather.

The marriage of your dear mother, and the necessity of her being
so far separated from the home of her parents, away here in Louisiana,
where there is no Protestant Church, and among strangers, whose
isolated lives throw an almost impassable barrier in the way of social
intercourse, made it incumbent on me to remain with her a greater part
of the time. Your father gave your mother's parents a very cordial and
pressing invitation to spend their winters with them, promising that
they would always pass the summer with us, and that we should never be
separated from our precious only child. But the business relations of
your grandfather made it impossible for him to do more than to