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Eliza Frances Andrews, The war-time journal of a Georgia girl, 1864-1865, chapter 3 (search)
here for the present, where there is plenty to eat, and less danger from Yankees now, than almost anywhere else. It must be perversity, for when I thought I had to go home I wanted to stay here, and now that father wants me to stay, I am wild to go. I have written him that he had better order me back home, for then I would not care so much about going. Now that the Yanks have passed by Augusta and are making their way to Columbia and Charleston, I hope they will give Georgia a rest. Feb. 23, Thursday The picnic was stupid. It must be that I am getting tired of seeing the same faces so often. Albert Bacon and Jim Chiles came home with us, and we enjoyed the evening. Capt. Rust is a dear old fellow, and Miss Connor and Maj. Camp added a little variety. Capt. Rust and Mr. Bacon proposed a ride across country for the morning, but there is not a riding habit in the family, nor a piece of cloth big enough to make one. I ruined mine in those fox hunts at Chunnenuggee Ridge la