." Or again he calls her by
epithets remarkable to the English ear, but which in Lithuania are terms
of close intimacy, and correspond to the rough and endearing language of
a fondly attached brother and sister in our own country. He sends her a
packet of China tea or a wagon filled with barley that was forced to
turn back on account of the bad state of the roads; while she is
requested to buy him "about four bottles of English beer: I will pay you
back when I see you." Sometimes she is treated to a friendly scolding
when she fails to fulfil Kosciuszko's commissions to his liking.

"I particularly beg you to try and get [some furniture he required] from
that joiner and send it to me on the first of May, or even sooner. ...
Come and stay with me in May. I will give you something to busy yourself
with, and to keep you in health. You must send some money to Stanislas
[her son, who was staying with Kosciuszko], and enjoin upon him to
manage with it, but it would be better if he always had some in store.
You are a cow: and why did you not buy more almonds in their shells, or
at least four spoons?"[1]

[Footnote 1: _Letters of Kosciuszko_, edited by L. Siemienski, Lwow,
1877 (Polish).]

"My Saint Anna"--thus he addresses her on another occasion: "I have sent
my carts for the chairs and sofas. ... I present my humble respects to
the _Stolnik_ [his brother-in-law], and I beg him to let himself be
persuaded to come and stay for a time with me, if only to smoke one pipe
over my hearth. I beg you both to buy me two fine cows. Good-bye,
lapwings."[1]

"Little sister of mine," he writes most tenderly after her husband's
death: "come to me, I beg you. Take a carriage to Brzesc. I shall be
there on Sunday for my cure, as Mueller ordered me to go there.
Otherwise I would go to you. You must let yourself be ruled by reason.
You are in bad health, I am in bad health: do you wish to drive me into
the grave by your extravagant conduct? You must watch over your health
for the sake of your children, for my sake."[2]

Kosciuszko loved his retirement, and was happiest in his own cherished
garden; but he by no means led the life of a hermit, and was fond of
visiting the country houses of his friends in the sociable open-hearted
manner of his race. His frank kindliness and courtesy made him a welcome
guest; and the favourite amusement of the soldier who had gained fame in
the New World was to play "blind man's buff" and other youthful games