till eleven to-day, when we stopped at this cotton-shed. When our dais
was spread and lunch laid out in the cool breeze, it seemed a blessed
spot. A good many negroes came offering chickens and milk in exchange
for tobacco, which we had not. We bought some milk with money.

A United States transport just now steamed by, and the men on the guards
cheered and waved to us. We all replied but Annie. Even Max was
surprised into an answering cheer, and I waved my handkerchief with a
very full heart as the dear old flag we had not seen for so long floated
by; but Annie turned her back.

_Sunday, July 13._ (_Under a tree on the east bank of the
Mississippi_)--Late on Saturday evening we reached a plantation whose
owner invited us to spend the night at his house. What a delightful
thing is courtesy! The first tone of our host's welcome indicated the
true gentleman. We never leave the oars with the watchman; Max takes
these, Annie and I each take a band-box, H. takes my carpet-sack, and
Reeney brings up the rear with Annie's. It is a funny procession. Mr.
B.'s family were absent, and as we sat on the gallery talking, it needed
only a few minutes to show this was a "Union man." His home was elegant
and tasteful, but even here there was neither tea nor coffee.

About eleven we stopped here in this shady place. While eating lunch the
negroes again came imploring for tobacco. Soon an invitation came from
the house for us to come and rest. We gratefully accepted, but found
their idea of rest for warm, tired travelers was to sit in the parlor on
stiff chairs while the whole family trooped in, cool and clean in fresh
toilets, to stare and question. We soon returned to the trees; however,
they kindly offered corn-meal pound-cake and beer, which were excellent.