iating demands of the Abolition party; they will
fight first."

"And which do you think will whip?"

"The South, of course. The South is impulsive, is in earnest, and the
Southern soldiers will fight to conquer. The North will yield, when it
sees the South is in earnest, rather than engage in a long and bloody
war."

"But, Mrs. Davis, are you certain that there will be war?"

"Certain!--I know it. You had better go South with me; I will take good
care of you. Besides, when the war breaks out, the colored people will
suffer in the North. The Northern people will look upon them as the
cause of the war, and I fear, in their exasperation, will be inclined to
treat you harshly. Then, I may come back to Washington in a few months,
and live in the White House. The Southern people talk of choosing Mr.
Davis for their President. In fact, it may be considered settled that he
will be their President. As soon as we go South and secede from the
other States, we will raise an army and march on Washington, and then I
shall live in the White House."

I was bewildered with what I heard. I had served Mrs. Davis faithfully,
and she had learned to place the greatest confidence in me. At first I
was almost tempted to go South with her, for her reasoning seemed
plausible. At the time the conversation was closed, with my promise to
consider the question.

I thought over the question much, and the more I thought the less
inclined I felt to accept the proposition so kindly made by Mrs. Davis.
I knew the North to be strong, and believed that the people would fight
for the flag that they pretended to venerate so highly. The Republican
party had just emerged from a heated campaign, flushed with victory, and
I could not think that the hosts composing the party would quietly yield
all they had gained in the Presidential canvass. A show of war from the
South, I felt, would lead to actual war in the North; and with the two
sections bitterly arrayed against each other, I preferred to cast my lot
among the people of the North.

I parted with Mrs. Davis kindly, half promising to join her in the South
if further deliberation should induce me to change my views. A few weeks
before she left Washington I made two chintz wrappers for her. She said
that she must give up expensive dressing for a while; and that she, with
the Southern people, now that war was imminent, must learn to practise
lessons of economy. She left some fine needle-work in my hands,