"Every man after he got home, after the fall of Richmond, put in to raise a little somethin' to eat. Some o' the corn looks poo'ly, but it beats no corn at all, all to pieces."
We came to one field which Elijah pronounced a "monstrous fine crap." But he added,—
"I've got thirty acres to home not a bit sorrier'n that. Ye see, that mule of mine," etc.
I noticed—what I never saw in the latitude of New England—that the fodder had been pulled below the ears and tied in little bundles on the stalks to cure. Ingenious shifts for fences had been resorted to by the farmers. In some places the planks of the worn-out plank road had been staked and lashed together to form a temporary inclosure. But the most common fence was what Elijah called "bresh wattlin'." Stakes were first driven into the ground, then pine or cedar brush bent in between them and beaten down with a maul.
"Ye kin build a wattlin' fence that way so tight a rabbit can't git through."
On making inquiries, I found that farms of fine land could be had all through this region for ten dollars an acre.
Elijah hoped that men from the North would come in and settle.
"But," said he, "'twould be dangerous for any one to take possession of a confiscated farm. He wouldn't live a month."
The larger land-owners are now more willing to sell.
"Right smart o' their property was in niggers; they're pore now, and have to raise money.