the bluff," and ask me in the next breath to go to the
theater this evening. I turned on the poor fellow: "Don't tell me about
your victories. You vowed by all your idols that the blockade would be
raised by October 1, and I notice the ships are still serenely anchored
below the city."

"G., you are just as pertinacious yourself in championing your opinions.
What sustains you when nobody agrees with you?"

I would not answer.

_Oct. 28, 1861_.--When I dropped in at Uncle Ralph's last evening to
welcome them back, the whole family were busy at a great center-table
copying sequestration acts for the Confederate Government. The property of
all Northerners and Unionists is to be sequestrated, and Uncle Ralph can
hardly get the work done fast enough. My aunt apologized for the rooms
looking chilly; she feared to put the carpets down, as the city might be
taken and burned by the Federals. "We are living as much packed up as
possible. A signal has been agreed upon, and the instant the army
approaches we shall be off to the country again."

Great preparations are being made for defense. At several other places
where I called the women were almost hysterical. They seemed to look
forward to being blown up with shot and shell, finished with cold steel,
or whisked off to some Northern prison. When I got home Edith and Mr. D.
had just returned also.

"Alex," said Edith, "I was up at your orange-lots to-day and the sour
oranges are dropping to the ground, while they cannot get lemons for our
sick soldiers."

"That's my kind, considerate wife," replied Mr. D. "Why didn't I think of
that before? Jim shall fill some barrels to-morrow and take them to the
hospitals as a present from you."

_Nov. 10_.--Surely this year will ever be memorable to me for its
perfection of natural beauty. Never was sunshine such pure gold, or
moonlight such transparent silver. The beautiful custom prevalent here of
decking the graves with flowers on All Saint's day was well fulfilled, so
profuse and rich were the blossoms. On All-hallow Eve Mrs. S. and myself
visited a large cemetery. The chrysanthemums lay like great masses of snow
and flame and gold in every garden we passed, and were piled on every
costly tomb and lowly grave. The battle of Manassas robed many of our
women in mourning, and some of these, who had no graves to deck, were
weeping silently as they walked through the scented avenues.

A few days ago Mrs. E. arrived here. She is a widow