That was one of the last big dinners that we had at our house.
It was not such a big dinner in point of courses, said Mr. Semmes, for we were getting reduced now, and money was worth nothing and provisions were high.
Nevertheless, it was a good substantial dinner; we had our expensive Confederate turkey, and vegatables and game, and good bread, made at home, and nice dessert.
We had Mr. Stephens and General Sparrow, and Mr. Garland from our home, and Bishop McGill and dear old Father Hubert to dine with us. I shall never forget that New Year's dinner.
We all tried to be gay, but our hearts were inwardly sad. There was the usual visiting, customary in those days on New Year's day, but the old brilliancy and fire were fast ebbing away.
Mr. Stephens never forgot that New year's dinner, said Mrs. Semmes, and she took from an old scrap-book, carefully put away, an autograph letter from Mr. Stephens, dated New Year's, 1866.
My dear Mrs. Semmes: Two years ago to-day we were a