So that has all to be done over, and I have to write and appoint another day for them to be met at the ferry. It is very discouraging. Nothing that I cannot personally attend to gets done. Poor dear old Bonaparte cannot help; he can only denounce and condemn "this new giniration," which does no good at all.
Cherokee, April 12.
Such intense excitement pervades this household that it is difficult to accomplish anything. The last two weeks have been very full. Corn has been planted, also potatoes, and land prepared for cotton. The incubator hatched out a splendid lot of healthy chicks.
Besides all this I have been sewing and dressmaking, for the day after to-morrow I am leaving for a visit to New York, and, wonder of wonders, Chloe is to go too by special invitation. I was afraid at first the excitement would put an end to her, for when I read the letter of invitation she seemed overcome.
At first she said it would be impossible for her to leave the chickens, and who would take care of the house and yard while she was gone? No, it was impossible. But I arranged to get Jim's wife to take charge of the precious "'cubators," also the whole poultry yard, and Chloe is to go. She prides herself on being a travelled person, having been in North Carolina and Georgia, as well as to many different parts of South Carolina and having gone all through the public buildings in the capital of this State, but the idea of going to New York and having to pass through Washington going and coming—it seems too much.
Besides this a complete outfit had to be got for the journey. That of itself was joy unspeakable. My own preparations sink into insignificance beside the magnitude of those of my good Chloe.
April 13.
We drove to Casa Bianca, where we had lunch, and M. and L. left us and drove to Gregory to take the train. It had been an ideal day.
Told Nat he must come to Cherokee to-morrow and drive down a bunch of young cattle, as the pasture there is splendid and I have only two cows, while at Cherokee the pasture is poor and I have twenty-four head of cattle. Nat said he could not possibly bring the young cattle down, that they had never been outside of the enclosure at Cherokee and that as soon as they got out they would all scatter in the woods and be lost.
He has always been a good hand with cattle and has three cows and calves and a pair of oxen at Casa Bianca, as sleek and fat as possible. I was surprised at his refusal and told him he could get one, or even two, boys to help him and I would pay for it, but still he insisted he could not do it.