rds that I can only
imitate by a violent dislocation of my lower jaw that puts Anna into
convulsions of laughter--only she would laugh the same if it was _not_
funny. This Kentuckian pronunciation grates "hairshly" on my Southern
ears. Miriam addressed herself exclusively to the Doctor, so I was
obliged to confine my attention entirely to neglected Mr. M----, in
which pious duty I was ably and charitably seconded by the General.
Speaking of the bravery and daring displayed by the Southern soldiers
during this war, Mr. M---- mentioned the dangerous spot he had seen us
in the first day we went down to the "Airkansas" and said that, lying
directly across the point from the Essex, they expected every instant
to see one of her shells explode among us, and were very uneasy about
our position, as we did not seem to know the danger. I asked him if he
had observed anything peculiar among the dozen planters and overseers
standing a short distance from us, when the Captain sent us word that
our position was a very dangerous one, as they expected the Essex to
open fire every instant, and we had best stand below the levee, higher
up, where we would be safe from shells. "I noticed that before any of
you understood your position, every man had disappeared as though by
magic." Now I had noticed that myself. When I turned, under shelter of
the levee, our gallant planters were galloping off in the distance.
While Ginnie and I looked and laughed, we suddenly found ourselves the
sole objects on the horizon; the other girls were in the road below,
going carelessly toward the carriage; so we followed, having lost sight
of the brave representatives of Southern chivalry, being the last to
leave the supposed field of danger. To my former remark, let me add
that there is only one set who take better care for their safety than
married women; and that set is composed exclusively of the "Home
Guard." Timid girls, either through ignorance or fun, compose the
majority of the brave "men" that the volunteer service has not
absorbed.

October 1st, Wednesday.

Just after sunset yesterday, Anna and I were walking down the road
towards the sugar-house, she reading occasionally from Abbott's
"Napoleon," and then pausing for me to explain the _very_ difficult
passages she could not understand, when we suddenly became aware of the
approach of a horse, and raising our bowed heads, beheld Colonel Breaux
and anothe