termined to have some fun,
though the sun was just setting in clouds as watery as New Orleans
milk, and promised an early twilight. All day it had been drizzling,
but that was nothing; so Anna Badger, Miriam, and I set off, through
the mud, to get up the little cart to ride in, followed by cries from
the elder ladies of "Girls! Soap is a dollar and a half a bar! Starch a
dollar a pound! Take up those skirts!" We had all started stiff and
clean, and it did seem a pity to let them drag; so up they went--you
can imagine how high when I tell you my answer to Anna's question as to
whether hers were in danger of touching the mud, was, "Not unless you
sit down."

The only animal we could discover that was not employed was a poor old
pony, most appropriately called "Tom Thumb," and him we seized
instantly, together with a man to harness him. We accompanied him from
the stable to the quarter where the cart was, through mud and water,
urging him on with shouts and cries, and laughing until we could laugh
no longer, at the appearance of each. The cart had been hauling wood,
but that was nothing to us. In we tumbled, and with a driver as
diminutive as the horse, started off for Mr. Elder's, where we picked
up all the children to be found, and went on. All told, we were twelve,
drawn by that poor horse, who seemed at each step about to undergo the
ham process, and leave us his hind quarters, while he escaped with the
fore ones and harness. I dare say we never enjoyed a carriage as much,
though each was holding a muddy child. Riding was very fine; but soon
came the question, "How shall we turn?"--which was not so easily
solved, for neither horse nor boy understood it in the least. Every
effort to describe a circle brought us the length of the cart farther
up the road, and we promised fair to reach Bayou Sara before morning,
at that rate. At last, after fruitless efforts to dodge under the
harness and escape, pony came to a standstill, and could not be induced
to move. The children took advantage of the pause to tumble out, but we
sat still. Bogged, and it was very dark already! Wouldn't we get it
when we got home! Anna groaned, "Uncle Albert!" Miriam laughed, "the
General!" I sighed, "Mrs. Carter!" We knew what we deserved; and darker
and darker it grew, and pony still inflexible! At last we beheld a
buggy on a road near by and in answer to Morgan's shouts of "Uncle!
Uncle! come turn our cart!" a gentleman jumped out and in an instan