another thief came and declared the other fifteen bales confiscated. They steal it, and the Government never gets a cent. We dared not try to sell it in open market, as every bale exposed for sale is "confiscated" at once.
No crop was planted this summer. The negroes are all drawing rations at the Freedman's Bureau.
We have turned our house into a hotel, and our table has become famous. Margaret is a treasure. She has learned to do everything. We tried to raise a crop on the farm when we came home, but the negroes stopped work. The Agent of the Bureau came to us and said he could send them back for a fee of $50. We paid it, and they worked a week. We found it easier to run a hotel. We hope to start the farm next year.
Our new minister at the Presbyterian Church is young, handsome, and eloquent—Rev. Hugh McAlpin.
Mr. Lenoir died last week—but his end was so beautiful, our tears were half joy. He talked incessantly of your father and how the country missed him. He seemed much better the day before the end came, and we took him for a little drive to Lovers' Leap. It was there, sixteen years ago, he made love to Jeannie. When we propped him up on the rustic seat, and he looked out over the cliff and the river below, I have never seen a face so transfigured with peace and joy.
"What a beautiful world it is, my dears!" he exclaimed, taking Jeannie and Marion both by the hand.
They began to cry, and he said with a smile:
"Come now—do you love me?"
And they covered his hands with kisses.
"Well, then you must promise me two things faithfully here, with Mrs. Cameron to witness!"
"That when I fall asleep, not one thread of black shall ever cloud the sunlight of our little home, that you will never wear it, and that you will show your love for me by making my flowers grow richer, that you will keep my memory green by always being as beautiful as you are to-day, and make this old world a sweeter place to live in. I wish you, Jeannie, my mate, to keep on making the young people glad. Don't let their joys be less even for a month because I have laid down to rest. Let them sing and dance——"
"Oh, Papa!" cried Marion.
"Certainly, my little serious beauty—I'll not be far away.
