"The field with its picturesque workers."
November 15.
Down at Casa Bianca again, in the field all day, the hands toting rice to 78, my largest flat. She is expected to carry nine acres. It is lovely down on the banks, and my English friend, an artist, who is sketching the field with its picturesque workers, is enthusiastic over the wonderful soft colors and the enchanting haze over all. I will have to borrow a flat, for Sarah is leaking too much to be brought back from Cherokee and 78 and White House cannot carry all the rice.
November 19.
The tug brought the three flats at daylight this morning. I could not get all three unloaded, but the rice from two is safely stowed in the mill and the other will have to take its chances in the flat till Monday. The hands worked well to-day, and were very merry and danced for my artist friend. A man came bringing $2 to buy two wagon loads of rice straw. It is in great demand and it is hard to refuse to sell it when people want it so much. I let this darky have the two loads. I have always given away a great deal but I have to deny myself that pleasure this year, for I have twenty-eight head of cattle, not to speak of the horses, to get through the winter, and the crop is so short.
November 20.
Marshfield turned out 737½ bushels in spite of storm and salt. Now, if I can only get a decent price for it.
November 25.
Drove down to Gregory to sell my rice in the rough, as I have not yet got samples of that I sent to mill in October. Sold it for 42½ cents per bushel, $313.43 for the 737½ bushels! "Alas, poor Yorick."
Cherokee, November 27.