and are generally melodious in sound. It is not more than twenty years since the last Indian tribes in Georgia were driven thence by an armed force; and I have heard eye-witnesses relate the scene, how on the morning when they were compelled to leave their huts, their smoking hearths, their graves, and were driven away, men, women, and children, as a defenceless herd, the air was filled with their cry of lamentation! Now no Indians are to be met with in Georgia or Carolina, though in Alabama, the farthest state west, may still be found tribes of Choctas and Chickasas Indians. Lively pic-nics are now held on these ancient Indian mounds.
I have for two nights in succession dreamed most livingly that mamma was here—was come to America to see me. I was very glad of it, but at the same time much surprised, because Agatha was not with her, and I thought in my dream, it is impossible that mamma could leave Agatha alone; “it must be a dream!” And a dream, and a foolish dream it was, certainly, my sweet mamma, but I should be very glad that one part of it were true, namely, that I saw you looking so well and so happy. If I could only see that, then would I have the joy of embracing mamma, not in sleep and in a dream, but in wakeful reality!
To-morrow I set off for Savannah.
Savannah, May 11th.—And here I now am, sweet mamma, after an affectionate parting from the amiable family in Vineville, whom I was sorry to leave. I got rid of a head-ache, as soon as possible, last evening, after the fatiguing day's journey by railway, in the heat of the sun, the smoke and the steam, during which my little basket of bananas was my only comfort and support. Long live the banana!
To-day I have received visits and flowers—among the latter a magnolia grandiflora, a magnificent flower, as noble as it is beautiful, a child of primeval light—and
