Though there is a great gap of years between S. and myself we have so many of the same tastes and interests that the years do not count in our intercourse. Her music is a delight to me, and it is such a wonder that she keeps it up as she does with so many drawbacks and with such an old and weary piano. I often feel that I would like to give her my Steinway, which, when I come to count the years, is itself not in its first bloom, having been bought in 1885; but it is an infant compared to hers and would be a joy to her, the action is so good and the tone so full; but really I would not dare to face my existence here without it. I shudder at the thought; so I hastily quench the impulse.

This afternoon I brought back seven nice watermelons from the plantation, greatly to Goliah's delight. They weighed down the buckboard so that he proposed to walk home to lighten the buggy. I suppose he weighs about fifty-five pounds. I thanked him for the proposal, but said I did not wish to reach home before him. Oh, no, he said, he would run and keep up; but I would not let him.

Little Goliah is the happiest, jolliest little boy, so fat and so black and shiny. My efforts to teach him are futile in the extreme, but why should Goliah be taught anything? He has a vast fund of general information of things to me unknown, and above all he has such a power of observation that nothing escapes him.

I am absent-minded and constantly lose keys and things like pencils and handkerchiefs, etc. When I ask Goliah as to what I had in my hand when I spoke to him last he can always tell me accurately, and my next question is, "And where did I go when I finished talking with you?" He can always tell exactly, and, moreover, I always find that he knows every step I have taken since, though he is in the yard and I am in the house.

If I say, "Goliah, remind me to-morrow to write a particular letter" or to do any special thing, he is sure to remind me. He has learned to wash his clothes so beautifully white that it is a pleasure to see him—to all but Gibbie, who is very much provoked at Goliah's white suits, only varied by a sky blue suit. He grumbles aloud, and I heard him say, "Miss Pashuns hab dat chile dress up all een w'ite till 'e far' look like a shadder; 'e skare me."

Altogether I consider Goliah a luxury. I have not the luxury of electric lights nor telephone nor automobile nor ice, but I have unlimited space and fresh air and sunshine and the wild flowers springing up everywhere around me, and this little piece of animated nature just bubbling over with life and joy and the absolute delight of having plenty to eat and nice clothes to wear and being always clean and owning a spelling book and slate and a bed of his own and a little trunk, also saying a very mild lesson every day and catechism on Sundays—all these things which to most children are a matter of course are to him something quite new in his little experience and pure bliss.

When you add to this that he has Ruth, that big fiery looking animal at his command, and that when he has been out on Sunday to visit his family and appears at the gate on his return she whinnies and goes to meet him, really his little cup, for eight years empty, is full to overflowing—and what gives me so much pleasure is there is no arrière pensée, no déjà-connu—it is all so fresh and so perfectly natural. Of course I know it cannot last.

Goliah is a constant amusement to me. I am teaching him to drive, and I read, for when it is very hot and the horse seems to feel it as much as I do, I cannot make her go fast, and I get so impatient and so hot that it is an immense relief to have a magazine to read. Of course I have to keep an eye always on Goliah and the reins. He stands at the back of the buckboard, finding that gives more power than sitting.

He talks constantly. I think he conceives it part of his duty to entertain me. "You see dat bu'd, Miss Pashuns?" A large brown bird which would light in the road and when Ruth got within six feet of it would fly, to light a little way ahead, waiting until I thought the horse must tread on it.

"Yes, I see the bird."