say but little. There is one great comfort; this war fever
has banished small talk. The black servants move about quietly, never
seeming to notice that this is all about them.

"How can you speak so plainly before them?" I say.

"Why, what matter? They know that we shall keep the whip-handle."

_April 13, 1861._--More than a month has passed since the last date here.
This afternoon I was seated on the floor covered with loveliest flowers,
arranging a floral offering for the fair, when the gentlemen arrived (and
with papers bearing the news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which, at her
request, I read to Mrs. F.).

_April 20._--The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. I
can't remember such a lovely spring ever before. But nobody has time or
will to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. The children play only with
toy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitant goes by every day with his
rifle to practice; the public squares are full of companies drilling, and
are now the fashionable resorts. We have been told that it is best for
women to learn how to shoot too, so as to protect themselves when the men
have all gone to battle. Every evening after dinner we adjourn to the back
lot and fire at a target with pistols.

Yesterday I dined at Uncle Ralph's. Some members of the bar were present
and were jubilant about their brand-new Confederacy. It would soon be the
grandest government ever known. Uncle Ralph said solemnly, "No, gentlemen;
the day we seceded the star of our glory set." The words sunk into my mind
like a knell, and made me wonder at the mind that could recognize that
and yet adhere to the doctrine of secession.

In the evening I attended a farewell gathering at a friend's whose
brothers are to leave this week for Richmond. There was music. No minor
chord was permitted.

III.

Tribulation.

_April 25, 1861._--Yesterday I went with Cousin E. to have her picture
taken. The picture-galleries are doing a thriving business. Many companies
are ordered off to take possession of Fort Pickens (Florida), and all seem
to be leaving sweethearts behind them. The crowd was in high spirits; they
don't dream that any destinies will be spoiled. When I got home Edith was
reading from the daily paper of the dismissal of Miss G. from her place as
teacher for expressing abolition sentiments, and that she would be ordered
to leave the city. Soon a lady came with a paper setting forth that she
has established