hristian. The Yankees
boasted loudly that if it had not been for him, the work would have
been done long ago.

And now, I am determined to see my home, before Yankee shells complete
the work that Yankee axes spared. So by sunrise, I shall post over to
Mr. Elder's, and insist on Charlie taking me to town with him. I hardly
think it is many hours off. I feel so settled, so calm! Just as though
I never meant to sleep again. If I only had a desk,--a luxury I have
not enjoyed since I left home,--I could write for hours still, without
being sleepy; but this curved attitude is hard on my stiff back, so
good-night, while I lie down to gain strength for a sight they say will
make me faint with distress. _Nous verrons!_ If I say I Won't, I know
I'll not cry. The Brunots lost nothing at all from their house, thank
Heaven for the mercy! Only they lost all their money in their flight.
On the door, on their return, they found written, "Ladies, I have done
my best for you," signed by a Yankee soldier, who they suppose to be
the one who has made it a habit of continually passing their house.

Forgot to say Miriam recovered my guitar from the Asylum, our large
trunk and father's papers (untouched) from Dr. Enders's, and with her
piano, the two portraits, a few mattresses (all that is left of
housekeeping affairs), and father's law books, carried them out of
town. For which I say in all humility, Blessed be God who has spared us
so much.

Thursday, August 28th.

I am satisfied. I have seen my home again. Tuesday I was up at sunrise,
and my few preparations were soon completed, and before any one was
awake, I walked over to Mr. Elder's, through mud and dew, to meet
Charlie. Fortunate was it for me that I started so early; for I found
him hastily eating his breakfast, and ready to leave. He was very much
opposed to my going; and for some time I was afraid he would force me
to remain; but at last he consented,--perhaps because I did not
insist,--and with wet feet and without a particle of breakfast, I at
length found myself in the buggy on the road home. The ride afforded me
a series of surprises. Half the time I found myself halfway out of the
little low-necked buggy when I thought I was safely in; and the other
half, I was surprised to find myself really in when I thought I was
wholly out. And so on, for mile after mile, over muddy roads, until we
came to a most terrific cross-road, where