d won't help you, particularly in the murderous part of it."

_May 27, 1861._--This has been a scenic Sabbath. Various companies about
to depart for Virginia occupied the prominent churches to have their flags
consecrated. The streets were resonant with the clangor of drums and
trumpets. E. and myself went to Christ Church because the Washington
Artillery were to be there.

_June 13._--To-day has been appointed a Fast Day. I spent the morning
writing a letter on which I put my first Confederate postage-stamp. It is
of a brown color and has a large 5 in the center. To-morrow must be
devoted to all my foreign correspondents before the expected blockade cuts
us off.

_June 29._--I attended a fine luncheon yesterday at one of the public
schools. A lady remarked to a school official that the cost of provisions
in the Confederacy was getting very high, butter, especially, being scarce
and costly. "Never fear, my dear madame," he replied. "Texas alone can
furnish butter enough to supply the whole Confederacy; we'll soon be
getting it from there." It's just as well to have this sublime confidence.

_July 15, 1861_.--The quiet of midsummer reigns, but ripples of excitement
break around us as the papers tell of skirmishes and attacks here and
there in Virginia. "Rich Mountain" and "Carrick's Ford" were the last.
"You see," said Mrs. D. at breakfast to-day, "my prophecy is coming true
that Virginia will be the seat of war." "Indeed," I burst out, forgetting
my resolution not to argue, "you may think yourselves lucky if this war
turns out to have any seat in particular."

So far, no one especially connected with me has gone to fight. How glad I
am for his mother's sake that Rob's lameness will keep him at home. Mr.
F., Mr. S., and Uncle Ralph are beyond the age for active service, and
Edith says Mr. D. can't go now. She is very enthusiastic about other
people's husbands being enrolled, and regrets that her Alex is not strong
enough to defend his country and his rights.

_July 22_.--What a day! I feel like one who has been out in a high wind,
and cannot get my breath. The news-boys are still shouting with their
extras, "Battle of Bull's Run! List of the killed! Battle of Manassas!
List of the wounded!" Tender-hearted Mrs. F. was sobbing so she could not
serve the tea; but nobody cared for tea. "O G.!" she said, "three thousand
of our own, dear Southern boys are lying out there." "My dear Fannie,"
spoke Mr. F., "they are heroes