life and comfort could be held, sit idly by without either ability or energy. Of course, one may answer that it is their own failing, &c.; but, as I said before, the case is sometimes one of misfortune rather than fault. The whole organization of society was unsound, and the whole burden of its disease falls upon the men of this generation: the few have inherent energy enough to make for themselves a place in the ranks of labor; but the many wait, half listlessly and half hopefully, for time to bring them victory over necessity.

The strictest economy in personal expenditure is everywhere a pressing necessity. The people are very poor. Three fourths of the property which they had at the beginning of the war is gone. Their slovenly method of living is neither pleasant to see nor agreeable to share, but it would be worth hundreds of millions of dollars if the same degree of economy could be made to prevail throughout the country. Not that this meagre and narrow life is in itself a good thing, but that the salvation of a people lies in days of forethought and a considerate expenditure of the gains of business.

South Carolina is just now an excellent place of residence for one who is forced to the wearing of old clothes. Any possible style of garment is in full fashion; and a week's travel in the interior will give anybody the sight of coats, for instance, in styles enough to drive a tailor crazy. Southern homespun is doubtless a serviceable cloth, but it is very rarely a handsome one.. How garments made from it at a Broadway house might look is an open question; in garments made after the scant patterns of the back-country there is neither comfort to the wearer nor satisfaction to the beholder. Yet one cannot help rejoicing at seeing how proud some of the people are of this same ill-looking homespun. It is in special cases the mark of Southern allegiance, but it is at least the sign and token of native industry. Possibly the negroes spun and wove it, but mechanical skill in any class is one of the elements of a prosperous future.

Education never was general in the State, and for the last two or three years it has been almost entirely neglected. The ignorance of the great body of the whites is a fact that will astonish any observer conversant with the middle classes of the North. Travel where you will, and that sure indication of modern civilization, the school-house, is not to be found. Outside half a dozen of the larger towns I have not seen a dozen in over six hundred miles of travel. A few persons express the hope that the Legislature will do something to set the College once more at work; but, generally speaking, the indifference of the masses to the whole subject of education is as startling as it is painful.

The negroes, on the other hand, though in a very ignorant manner, are much interested in the matter. They all seem anxious to learn to read, many of them appearing to have

a notion that thereby will come honor and happiness. Schools for their benefit have already been established at some of the principal points, and the intent of the Freedmen's Bureau is that there shall be at least one in each district before spring. The disposition of the whites toward the negro schools is not good, and in many localities the teachers would be subject to insult, and probably to outrage, but for the presence of the military.

The language of the common people of the State is a curious mixture of English and African. There is so little communication between the various sections that the speech of the northern part is in many particulars quite unlike that of the southern part. The language of the negroes is even more marked than that of the lower classes of the whites, and their isolation is such that each district of the State has a dialect of its own. To show how speech is corrupted, I may mention that I have met many negroes whose jargon was so utterly unintelligible that I could scarcely comprehend the ideas they tried to convey.

The negroes almost invariably drop the final g in words.

of two or more syllables that end in ing, as comin' for coming, meetin' for meeting, &c. They also drop the final d in words of all syllables, as an' for and, fin' for find, aroun' for around, behin' for behind, &c. The final t is usually, but not always dropped, as fas' for fast, mos' for most; though by a change of vowel it is sometimes retained, as fut for foot, fust for first, &c. The fin of is, I believe, always dropped, as o' corn for of corn, and o' my cabin for of my cabin. For the letter thus dropped b is sometimes substituted, as chil' ob Pete for child of Peter, ob life for of life, &c.

Exceptions to this general rule in regard to final letters are numerous enough: thus going becomes gwine, child becomes chile or cheel, set becomes sette, &c.

The letters w and v are frequently interchanged: thus very becomes werry, and well becomes vell, &c. On the other hand, ve is often changed into b, as forgib for forgive, lib for live, &c. The letters th are never heard; their place in short words is filled by d, as de for the, dis for this, dat for that, &c.; while in longer words the h is lost and the t retained, as tree for three, trow for throw, tings for things, &c.

From dropping letters the way is short to dropping syllables, and gentleman becomes gen'l'man, little becomes leel, government becomes gov'ment, plantation becomes plan'shun, tobacco becomes bacca, &c.

From a change of syllables the way is short to a change of words, and us becomes we, she becomes her, and he becomes him; thus all of us is all we, she runs is her runs, he has got a whip is him's got vhip, &c.

By a still more curious trick of words the pronoun them is used in the objective for any gender or number, but undergoes, among the low-country negroes especially, such a change itself as to be hardly recognizable. Tell me the meaning of the unique word shum? Yet it is in very common use among the negroes of this class, and is their corruption of the words see them.

The term applied by the negroes to their owners or employers is not, as generally printed, massa or mass'r. They use the long a, and the word is really, out of the cities, mawssa, and sometimes even mawrssa, though this last pronunciation is rarely heard.

The terms cousin and brother are in common use among the negroes, and seem to be expressive of equality. The older and more trusted blacks of a plantation never speak of a field hand as cousin; but the field-hands designate each other as Bro' Bob, Bro' John, Co'n Sally, Co' Pete, &c.

Of words whose pronunciation is without rule, so far as I can discover, take the following instances: shut is shet, such is sich, drove is druv, catch is ketch, there is thar, car is kear, steady is studdy, another is nudder, hear is hare, sure is sho, both is boff, &c., &c.

The particle da is curiously used; thus, for John is coming, we have John da come; for he runs in the road, we have he da run, &c. Is the word a corruption of do, and is it indicative of present action? I am unable to suggest any other explanation, and that this is the true one I am not at all certain.

"We's

The salutation how do you do is never anything more than how-dy, and with the lower class of negroes is simply huddy. The words dun gone are in very common use, as, jus' dun gone broke de co'n," "He's dun gone to town," "Her's done gone steal my gr'un'-nut," "All we gang o' nigger dun gone an' lef um," &c. The word both is not generally used, the phrase all-two taking its place.

The language of the lower classes of the whites is so much like that of the negroes that it is difficult to say where the English ends and the African begins. Very many of the strange words and phrases which I have mentioned as in use among the negroes I have also heard among the backcountry whites. There are other instances, however, of a corruption of language in which the negroes have no part.

A South-Carolinian never thinks or guesses, but 'lows or reckons. He ha'n't got no use for a Yankee nohow, and thinks him a no-'count fellow, or a low-down triflin' cuss, of whom he would like to git shet; and he will feel obligated to you if you will help him out of his ill-fortunate situation; and, dog-gone-you, as you are not an ill-conditioned man, and as he has refugeed from the Yankees, he will take a little whiskey with you dry-so.

XXV.

FIRST GLIMPSES OF GEORGIA.

MILLEDGEVILLE, October 26,

1865.

TH

HE distance from Aiken to Augusta is twenty miles, and it is made by railroad in two hours and a half, at an expense of two dollars, on the narrow, pine-board, backless seats of a tolerably clean car.

Augusta is considered by many persons the handsomest city in the South, and I have often been told that I would find its general appearance much like that of a Northern city. It certainly is a pleasant place, and there are not many finer streets than the long, wide avenue on which most of its business is done; and yet in respect of beauty the city has no advantage over Raleigh, and cannot be compared with the Columbia that existed a year ago. That anybody should have fancied it had the appearance of a Northern city seems to me very remarkable. Everything about it, from the piazzaed cottages on its back streets to the great hotel in which it domiciles its guests, from the broad-doored cigar-shop on the corner to the dry-goods palace in its principal block, is distinctively Southern; and he