d smash-up at Port Hudson,
when his face was the last I saw before being thrown, and the first I
recognized when I roused myself from my stupor and found myself in the
arms of the young Alabamian. At the sound of his name, I fairly saw the
last ray of sunset flashing over his handsome face, as I saw it then.
No, I did not know him. He had spoken to me, begging to be allowed to
hold me, and I had answered, entreating him not to touch me, and that
was all I knew of him; but she did not wait for the reply. She hurried
on to say that she had sent him a bouquet, with a piece of poetry, and
that he had been heard to exclaim, "How beautiful!" on reading it.
"And do you know," she continued, with an air that was meant to be
charmingly naif, but which was not very successful, as naivete at
twenty-nine is rather flat, "I am _so_ much afraid he thinks it
original! I forgot to put quotation marks, and it would be _so_ funny
in him to make the mistake! For you know I have not much of the--of
that sort of thing about me--I am not a poet--poetess, author, you
know." Said Miriam in her blandest tone, without a touch of sarcasm in
her voice, "Oh, if he has ever seen you, the mistake is natural!" If I
had spoken, my voice would have carried a sting in it. So I waited
until I could calmly say, "You know him well, of course." "No, I never
saw him before!" she answered with a new outburst of naivete.

Monday, August 24th.

A letter from Captain Bradford to Miriam. My poor Adonis, that I used
to ridicule so unmercifully, what misfortunes have befallen him! He
writes that during the siege at Port Hudson he had the top of his ear
shot off (wonder if he lost any of that beautiful golden fleece yclept
his hair?), and had the cap of his knee removed by a shell, besides a
third wound he does not specify. Fortunately he is with kind friends.
And he gives news of Lydia, most acceptable since such a time has
elapsed since we heard from her.... He says, "Tell Miss Sarah that the
last I saw of John, he was crossing the Mississippi in a skiff, his
parole in his pocket, his sweet little sister by his side," (O you
wretch! at it again!) "and Somebody else in his heart." How considerate
to volunteer the last statement! Then followed half a page of
commendation for his bravery, daring, and skill during the siege (the
only kind word he ever spoke of him, I dare say), all looking as though
I was to take it as