lied our returned soldier, getting slowly out of the
buggy.

He was very thin and pale, and explained that he took a severe cold almost
at once, had a mild attack of pneumonia, and the surgeon got him his
discharge as unfit for service. He succeeded in reaching Annie, and a few
days of good care made him strong enough to travel back home.

"I suppose, H., you've heard that Island No. 10 is gone?"

Yes, we heard that much, but Max had the particulars, and an exciting talk
followed. At night H. said to me, "G., New Orleans will be the next to go,
you'll see, and I want to get there first; this stagnation here will kill
me."

_April 28, 1862_.--This evening has been very lovely, but full of a sad
disappointment. H. invited me to drive. As we turned homeward he said:

"Well, my arrangements are completed. You can begin to pack your trunks
to-morrow, and I shall have a talk with Max."

Mr. R. and Annie were sitting on the gallery as I ran up the steps.

"Heard the news?" they cried.

"No! What news?"

"New Orleans is taken! All the boats have been run up the river to save
them. No more mails."

How little they knew what plans of ours this dashed away. But our
disappointment is truly an infinitesimal drop in the great waves of
triumph and despair surging to-night in thousands of hearts.

_April 30_.--The last two weeks have glided quietly away without incident
except the arrival of new neighbors--Dr. Y., his wife, two children, and
servants. That a professional man prospering in Vicksburg should come now
to settle in this retired place looks queer. Max said:

"H., that man has come here to hide from the conscript officers. He has
brought no end of provisions, and is here for the war. He has chosen well,
for this county is so cleaned of men it won't pay to send the conscript
officers here."

Our stores are diminishing and cannot be replenished from without;
ingenuity and labor must evoke them. We have a fine garden in growth,
plenty of chickens, and hives of bees to furnish honey in lieu of sugar.
A good deal of salt meat has been stored in the smoke-house, and, with
fish in the lake, we expect to keep the wolf from the door. The season for
game is about over, but an occasional squirrel or duck comes to the
larder, though the question of ammunition has to be considered. What we
have may be all we can have, if the war last five years longer; and they
say they are prepared to hold out till the crack of doom. Food,