falls, General
Carter's house will be decidedly unsafe from Yankee vengeance. The
probability is that it will burn, as they have been daily expecting
ever since the Yankees occupied Baton Rouge. The risk seems equal,
either way. Go or stay, the danger seems the same. Shall we go, then,
for variety, or die here of stagnation while waiting for the Yankees to
make up their minds? I would rather be at neither place, just now; in
fact I could hardly name the place I should like to be in now, unless
it were Europe or the Sandwich Islands; but I love Linwood and its dear
inhabitants, and under other circumstances should be only too happy to
be there. I was regretting the other day that our life was now so
monotonous; almost longed for the daily alarms we had when under Yankee
rule in Baton Rouge. Stirring times are probably ahead.

LINWOOD,
September 17th, Wednesday.

Still floating about! This morning after breakfast, General Carter made
his appearance, and in answer to his question as to whether we were
ready to leave with him, Miriam replied, "Yes, indeed!" heartily, glad
to get away from Clinton, where I have detained her ever since the day
Theodore returned home, to her great disgust. As our trunk was already
packed, it did not take many minutes to get ready; and in a little
while, with a protracted good-bye, we were on our way to the depot,
which we reached some time before the cars started. Though glad to
leave Clinton, I was sorry to part with mother. For ten days she has
been unable to walk, with a sore on her leg below the knee; and I want
to believe she will miss me while I am away. I could not leave my bird
in that close, ill-ventilated house. He has never sung since I
recovered him; and I attribute his ill health or low spirits to that
unhealthy place, and thought Linwood might be beneficial to him, too;
so brought him with me, to see what effect a breath of pure air might
have.

We were the only ladies on the cars, except Mrs. Brown, who got off
halfway; but in spite of that, had a very pleasant ride, as we had very
agreeable company. The train only stopped thirteen times in the twenty
miles. Five times to clear the brushwood from the telegraph lines, once
running back a mile to pick up a passenger, and so on, to the great
indignation of many of the passengers aboard, who would occasionally
cry out, "Hello! if