A Woman Rice Planter

by Elizabeth W. Allston Pringle

I am having wool washed to make a mattress, as I need a nice single mattress, and the only way to get it at this moment is to make it. Chloe and Patty are to wash it to-morrow.

January 2.

Drove Marietta this morning for the second time. Jim always walked behind driving with long reins, while Gibbie led her as far as the front gate, so I followed his example and drove from behind until we got into the public road, when I got in. She fought a little, but went beautifully when once we were started.

I wanted to go to the post-office in Peaceville but did not wish to stop there, as we did that the last time, and with a colt it is so important not to let it form a habit of stopping at any one place. So I drove all the way up the village to the last house, and turning there came back to the post-office. Alack and alas! it was closed. If only I had stopped on the way up I would have got my mail, and I was hoping for a valuable letter. While I stopped talking, asking if it would not be possible to have the office opened for a moment, one of my dear Sunday-school boys galloped by on horseback, followed by his black dog.

Marietta just made up her mind to get rid of all impediments and pursue them, especially the dog. She reared, she plunged, she bucked, she whirled, she stood so long on her hind legs pawing the air that I thought she must fall back on me. Gibbie, however, held on to her manfully, although nearly lifted from the ground. Mr. R. was so excited that he jumped the high paling fence to come to my assistance, but there was nothing he could do. However, I was glad of his suggestion, made in his deliberate way: "I would turn her head the other way," which advice I gladly followed and drove rapidly up the village for the second time and on in that direction until she was somewhat quiet and then turned homeward, trusting Fred and his black dog had gone a long distance and would not return until I was safely at home.

One dangerous spot after another was passed and I began to breathe more freely when, as I reached the Clay gully, I saw in the distance the galloping horse and frisking black dog approaching. My heart was in my mouth, but I make it a rule never to call out in an alarmed tone, as a horse is so sensitive to the driver's feelings. I had taken her around a little side cut she was unaccustomed to so that she was so busy examining every root and stump that she did not see the approaching party. To my great relief Fred saw us, and with wonderful presence of mind called his dog, which had nearly reached us, and rode rapidly off in another direction. I was very thankful, and greatly pleased at the boy's prompt thought and action.

Got home without further trouble and did not give poor little Marietta the reward she was expecting—two quarts of oats. Gibbie was indignant at this and proceeded to argue with me, but I was firm and told him Marietta would understand perfectly.

January 6.

Have had the great privilege and pleasure of having our Bishop as my guest, on his pastoral visit to our struggling little parish. The Bishop's visit is always a season of uplift and thankfulness.

January 7.