"Why, what matter? They know that we shall keep the whip-handle."

_April 13, 1861._--More than a month has passed since the last date
here. This afternoon I was seated on the floor covered with loveliest
flowers, arranging a floral offering for the fair, when the gentlemen
arrived and with papers bearing news of the fall of Fort Sumter, which,
at her request, I read to Mrs. F.

_April 20._--The last few days have glided away in a halo of beauty. But
nobody has time or will to enjoy it. War, war! is the one idea. The
children play only with toy cannons and soldiers; the oldest inhabitant
goes by every day with his rifle to practice; the public squares are
full of companies drilling, and are now the fashionable resorts. We have
been told that it is best for women to learn how to shoot too, so as to
protect themselves when the men have all gone to battle. Every evening
after dinner we adjourn to the back lot and fire at a target with
pistols. Yesterday I dined at Uncle Ralph's. Some members of the bar
were present, and were jubilant about their brand-new Confederacy. It
would soon be the grandest government ever known. Uncle Ralph said
solemnly, "No, gentlemen; the day we seceded the star of our glory set."
The words sunk into my mind like a knell, and made me wonder at the mind
that could recognize that and yet adhere to the doctrine of secession.

In the evening I attended a farewell gathering at a friend's whose
brothers are to leave this week for Richmond. There was music. No minor
chord was permitted.