mouths of a good many were a little open, but, as I had to open all of them, I found they were not spoiled, and in they all went to the dish. I even ate some of them raw. I took them all out of the barrel on Tuesday morning, placed them on the ground in the north cellar, withthe deep shell down, sprinkled them with salt and meal, and then with just enough water to make the salt run a little. They were a little too fresh at first, but on the second day after their removal from the barrel they were as salt as could be desired, and perfectly delicious. I could have kept them—well, I don't know how long,—a week, perhaps; perhaps a month. They improved every day (I mean those with their shells closed), the last being the best. You need never mind the temperature hereafter; and, as New Orleans oysters are generally too fresh, you can, in one day, season them to your taste and make them equal to York River oysters,—perhaps! . . .
"Letters from Yirginius and Ben remind me of the 4th. Good boys! Neither did Tom fail. Good boy, too! These things, and such thoughts as they suggest, make me happy. . . .
Several of Augustine's children had moved to California, and in January, 1878, he and Mrs. Augustine Dabney went there to make their home among their children. It was the first separation of the brothers.
T. S. D. TO AUGUSTINE DABNEY.
"Although you have been throwing off suggestions from time to time of the likelihood of your going to California, I was still taken by surprise when I read your card of the 12th, informing me that you were packing up and expecting to be off in two hours. I hope Mary stood the trip reasonably. Unless some accident befell, I have no good reason for hoping that you and sister E —— had a good time, as you both like travelling, she especially. No amount of 'hoping' would do any good under such circumstances; as of
