tack is delayed until this evening, or to-morrow, they say. Woman
though I am, I am by no means as frightened as some of these men are. I
can't get excited about it. Perhaps it is because they know the danger,
and I do not. But I hate to see _men_ uneasy! I have been so accustomed
to brave, fearless ones, who would beard the Devil himself, that it
gives me a great disgust to see any one less daring than father and the
boys.

I have been so busy preparing to go to the city that I think if the
frolic should intervene and prevent my departure, I would be
disappointed, though I do not want to go. It would be unpleasant, for
instance, to pack all I own in my trunk, and just as I place the key in
my pocket to hear the shriek of "Van Dorn!" raised again. This time it
is to be Ruggles, though. I would not mind if he came before I was
packed. Besides, even if I miss the fun here, they say the boats are
fired into from Plaquemine; and then I have the pleasure of being in a
fight anyhow. Mother is alarmed about that part of my voyage, but
Miriam and I persuaded her it is nothing.

If I was a man--oh, wouldn't I be in Richmond with the boys!... What is
the use of all these worthless women, in war times? If they attack, I
shall don the breeches, and join the assailants, and fight, though I
think they would be hopeless fools to attempt to capture a town they
could not hold for ten minutes under the gunboats. How do breeches and
coats feel, I wonder? I am actually afraid of them. I kept a suit of
Jimmy's hanging in the armoir for six weeks waiting for the Yankees to
come, thinking fright would give me courage to try it (what a seeming
paradox!), but I never succeeded. Lilly one day insisted on my trying
it, and I advanced so far as to lay it on the bed, and then carried my
bird out--I was ashamed to let even my canary see me;--but when I took
a second look, my courage deserted me, and there ended my first and
last attempt at disguise. I have heard so many girls boast of having
worn men's clothes; I wonder where they get the courage.

To think half the men in town sat up all night in expectation of a
stampede, while we poor women slept serenely! Everybody is digging pits
to hide in when the ball opens. The Days have dug a tremendous one; the
Wolffs, Sheppers, and some fifty others have taken the same precaution.
They may as well dig their graves at once; what if a tremendous shell
should burst over them, and bury in the dirt those wh