for your Yankee friends? Come and join me in a bottle of
claret. It may be our last together. Only think of it, my
dear fellow, I am to be made a Colonel! But that will not
please you. Sink politics! We will ignore all that is disagreeable.
There shall be no slavery,—no Rebeldom,—no
Yankeedom. All shall be Arcadian. We will talk over old
times, and compare notes in regard to Perdita. I don’t believe
you are a tenth part as much in love as I am. Where has the
enchantress gone? ‘O matchless sweetness! whither art thou
vanished? O thou fair soul of all thy sex! what paradise hast