[Section begins in April, 1876, with new numbering. Pages 1-8 missing.]

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[Saturday, April 22, 1876?] …the kitchen” and managed to get out 2 pieces of bacon half a ham; the big box of books and pictures, a keg of nails and a broken one; a clothes line, a coil of copper wire, all the tools that were in there, and the two lasts you brought down. I wrenched off the little closet that held all our spices and the jelly that mother sent down, besides corn starch and other little things. Then I got the cans of milk and the maccaroni [sic] and all this time I was nearly overcome with the intensity of the heat. The flames were all along the side and bursting through and the roof was blazing also. It was like reaching into an oven to draw out the things. At first, as I pulled out the items Fred would carry them further back, but he left for the other side of the kitchen finally and as I was driven back he had succeeded in saving all my garden tools, hoes and rakes, three tubs, tool box, axe, and ceiling boards that were on the tool bench. Then we found it impossible to save anything more. Anna had come over and she and Brenda rushed with pails and pitchers to the bay while Fred ran back for his ladder. As I got water I threw it on the house. The overhanging roof was smoking and the side of Freddie’s room was also heating rapidly. Fred came with the ladder but it was so hot we could [line cut off on photocopy]

Page 10 westerly side. Up this we went and I managed to cover the roof with water. Alternately Fred and I and Brenda and Anna brought water from the shore and on the roof and on the side I threw it as well as I could. But the heat grew worse and worse and I feared that we would not be able to save our house. The escape was a narrow one but we did weather the blow and I think that the water that Brenda and Anna brought—some sixteen pails— turned the scale. You have no idea how fearful the heat was. I took my army blanket down to the bay and soaked it. It was so heavy I could harly lift it, but I got it on my shoulder and along the path and up the ladder and stretched along the lower path of the roof. My right hand was par boiled on one side—not badly however—by the steam from it before I could fix it properly. Then the fire spread toward the house on the ground. It got in a pile of buttonwood. This I put out. Then it went for my piazza boards where Brenda dashed in and threw a bucket of water on the right spot. Finally we had the fire encircled and under control. Freddie, Phip, and the baby had been taken by Anna over to the other house, when the house was in danger and as the kitchen blaze became less and there was [next line largely cut off, but appears to be…] not more to do or to save

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Fred and I sat down utterly exhausted to see the finale of the destruction. In less than an hour from the time Fred saw the fire, nothing was left of our pretty little kitchen but six black stumps and a mass of burning ashes. Our loss is indeed a heavy one. The stove and kitchen utensils, all our crockery, and every bit of stores is gone. Besides this our silver plated ice pitcher, coffee urn,—clock and a quantity of ornaments and trinkets—which I had placed in the kitchen as the safest place to put them. Besides the things I have mentioned above, we saved only such things as you know were in the house—our clothes bedding and furniture. Two of my dining chairs were burned. I suppose I have actually lost in the neighborhood of $800 worth of goods—including stores and buildings. It is a hard blow to Brenda and me and one that is seems difficult to overcome and yet we shall try to do so. How the fire occurred puzzled me at first. No fire had been built in the stove last evening. At 2 o’c yesterday the stove was cold and I was fixing up some little necessity to it. Fred was in the kitchen later. We had a cold supper and at 9 o’c I went over to the tool bench for a drink of water before going to bed. Nothing suspicious was visable [sic] then. We can only account for it [last line cut off]

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Key’s kitchen took fire by a sulphur match being eaten by a rat and the fire resulting by its ignition. Besides no fire from any other means could keep alight from 2 o’c until 3 the next morning without our knowledge. So Fred and I have concluded that the kitchen must have taken fire in the same manner. Had it not been for “Neuse,” —I must give him this credit—we might all have been burned to death. I consider that we are fortunate in getting off so well as we have considering all the facts and what might have resulted. I have been thinking over many plans and will detail them to you when I send this letter—or rather diary. To-day we took breakfast at Anna’s, and also dinner and tea. It was the only thing we could do and yet it was a satisfactory action to all. This calamity has done what, perhaps, nothing else might have done—brought us, in sympathy, closer together—Freds “family” and mine—and made us lean upon each other more than we would have done had each had the means to follow seperate [sic] paths. Anna has apportioned certain work to Brenda which she will attend to and Fred and I will plant trees and work together and potatoes rice and other commodities. I will furnish green pine and he lightwood and in many other was [sic] we shall try to work the calamity to some [last line cut off on photocopy]

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Fred and I were drenched in throwing the water on the house and both Brenda and Anna were in the same condition. They both worked like men and they have since wondered how they could have gone into the water up to their knees and brought the heavy pails full of water. Twice Brenda fell over a piece of buttonwood on the shore and had to go back and repeat her trip. They both showed real pluck and their pails of water coming at the right time—in addition to ours—turned the scale and saved the house. All the panes of glass in Freddies window were cracked. The weather boards are hanging with beads of pitch and some fell on my face and whiskers at one time taking off the skin. The window facings are about black and the whole side got a fearful scorching. My tomatoes, young trees by the kitchen and even my little nursery is almost ruined. A dozen trees remains out of some 200. Ten of Clarke’s oranges were burned and all my bananas. Fred has enough, however, to make all amends in their particulars. This afternoon I made another mounds and this evening set out with Fred’s help 3 grape fruit for him and three for me. Mine are east of the house. Extremely warm all day. (Among the other things I got from the storehouse 5 gallons of kerosene oil and the oil cans and funnel)

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P.G.C. Sunday April 23, 1876 A bright sunny day with a westerly breeze during most of it. We take all our meals at Anna’s and talk over the disaster. Fred and Anna feel about as bad as we do. The children behave nicely at table. Freddie thinks “It is too bad Papa lost all his nice battening.” Of course both Brenda and I feel pretty “low down,” but still can see how it might have been worse. Before dinner I rowed over to De Costers. I detailed our troubles. He agreed with me about the cause of the fire; and before I gave my idea of it. While over went up to Lockharts and borrowed ½ a bushel of corn. I tried to get some molasses but every one was out. D.C. had just got back from Pine Level and he goes again next Friday. I may go with him to see about my land. Mrs. De Coster gave us some milk and Freddie and I sailed home with it. Sit on the front piazza most of the afternoon to get rid of the desolating sight. Water all my young oranges in the nursery and other trees needing it. May save half of the nursery—nothing more. Migale, the fisherman, appears with nine clams and some aguadiente: we get a bottle of the latter for medicinal purposes. All my medicines were destroyed.

P.G.C. Monday April 24, 1876 Fred and I try to clear up the ruins. We get about 150 pounds of nails in fair condition. They can be used again. Bolts, hinges and other hardware we also collected. But nearly every thing was melted into solid junks. We passed the morning at this work nearly. The sun was very hot ther. at 83°, and we concluded to give it up at 11 o’c. Early in the morning

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however we dug ½ a bushel of my sweet potatoes and such white potatoes as had wilted. Some of the latter were as large as the originals. All our savings in the eatable line have been transferred to Anna’s keeping. Brenda and Anna keep house—or rather kitchen— on the cooperative plan and Fred and I propose to do our planting this summer ditto. In the afternoon we brought in lightwood enough to last a month or two. Fred says we are living on the Glen Haven plan. We attend to matters until the bell rings and then walk over in a body to the hotel for meals. Anna cooks and Brenda washes up the things. In other ways the work is divided. A load of ashes was put in the chicken coop this afternoon. Our red pig was sent to the woods today. It will be “root hog or die” with him. Strong westerly winds all day.

P.G.C. Tuesday April 25, 1876 Extremely warm and very dry. Make up three citrus mounds in readiness for the trees. And Fred and I set out 22 orange trees to make up our 50 each of Clarkes. Those set out were the first batch and 26 remain that we think will live. In the midst of the setting out the “Bonne” came in. A strong westerly wind was blowing, but Fred and I boarded the boat without touching her and as we did and you and George did before. We got no mail, nor freight—the “Laura” having them—but learned of your delay and that you had caught your (next) steamer. To night I suppose you are in Kinderhook. We expect the “Laura” tonight with flou and some --- letters. [last line partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Wednesday April 26, 1876 Another warm day continues but the wind comes No. Easterly and it cools very much. As day advances, the wind increases to a gale and there are slight hopes of our letters until just at dusk we see the “Laura” for a moment below Platts. She don’t come in however and as the gale still blows we shall watch but look for her opposite at daylight tomorrow. Fred and I chop enough wood to last until Sunday and dig a pan full of white potatoes. So far I have got nearly a bushel from my hills. They increase in size rapidly. I make up another citrus mound on the path to Freds and in the afternoon we set out 4 citrus and eleven orange trees. Brenda washes and gets a little cold which give her much kidney trouble. She returns with unendurable pain but undergoes a hurtshorn [?] rubbing.

P.G.C. Thursday April 27, 1876 The “Laura” comes at daylight. We get two sacks of corn and a barrel of flour. Fred and I get them ashore. Before breakfast. After breakfast cross for letters. Go to mill, to Lockharts, and to De Costers. Hear of your adventures. What a time you must have had. Oh for plenty of means! Tomorrow I expect to go to Pine Level with De Coster. I will add a few lines from there additionally to these. Brenda is writing to her mother and to Minna. Mulched 20 trees and went to swamp with Fred for 50 palmetto fans. Overhauled orange trees and fixed up for two days absence. Watered much. Rain threatened all day but only sprinkled.

17-18-19-20 missing

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Fla. April 30, 1876

My dear Pa,

After my travels to the County seat I sit down quietly to detail my going and coming and below you will find it:

Pine Level Friday April 28, 1876 This morning the weather was warm and summery. We breakfasted early and at half past 7 o’c Fred and I slid the white boat off the ways and crossed to De Costers, I to commence my proposed pilgrimage to Pine Level and Fred to return to P.G.C. No horses, as usual, are on hand as we arrive, but in an hour De Coster’s gothic steed that carried Fred on the Manatee trip and the “Spasha” pony are brought up to the front piazza and corned. By ½ past 9 o’clock we get ready to mount and are soon under way. De Coster kindly gives me a broken=down saddle and an insignificant spur and adopts the moderately good saddle belonging to Gillis and intended for me—and also his “lone-star” heel-top. We pass along the beach, the Judges white coat shining brightly in the sun, and stop a moment at the mill. Here I rearrange my saddle and blanket with Gillis’ help, and off we go for the county seat at last, in good spirits and with a small bottle of “auguident” in De Coster’s pocket to comfort us on the way. We do not follow any actual trail, but strike a bee line through the woods skirting the river, occasionally follow a cow path and again push through a pond or around “slashes” and “heads.” The palmettos are high and strike our feet as we make our little circuits about them. Wild cattle are visable [sic] in “bunches” and rare glimpses of the river of Peace are caught through the wall of pines in the distance to the right. Our horses walk and stumble over palmetto roots, but never fall, and our progress is any thing but rapid. The birds sing over head, crows caw all about us and --- [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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ungreased wings is heard in the far away wood-gloom. The wind makes a gently tremolo in the pine tops and seldom reaches beneath, while the air is sultry nearer earth and the rays of the sun that struggle through in bare places are hot and scorching. We pursue a northerly course, and for 10 miles discover little variety other than pine woods interspersed with dry “ponds” at long intervals, occasional “cabbage bunches” and more frequently, as we advance, ½ a mile to the right the rich foliage and tropical growth of the river borders. At near noon we stop at De Costers “deadnin’” and I am shown the remains of his old store and the spot where he first settled in Florida. Half an acre cleared of trees, with some broken nails and remains of house timber mark the spot. The river looked bright, calm and picturesque a few hundred feet away, with its rich overhanging foliage and lily-decked edges, and offered most decided contrast to the gloom and desolation near by. On we traveled to Bartholf’s old store house, wading one or two shaded streams and passing clumps of mossy live oaks and cypress—with the latter’s “knees” bustling up in odd looking little stumps. Across a large burn and around a gully we trotted and then came upon a 10 acre enclosure, with 300 feet of fence burned and a horse and five or six cattle grazing within. Toward the shore side a tumble-down shanty with a shed facing west presented itself—with a smaller log shanty on its left—as the solitary ornaments. Not a tree or a bush varied the monotony. At five feet intervals a plow had been run through the entire field and the “scratch” had lined it off for some crop; but nothing betokened its coming, everything looked dry and barren. We rode across this field and up to the house where a “solitary southerner” in a Panama hat, dilapidated and torn, sat on a box, with legs crossed, reading a scrap of newspaper. He did not look up until we came within

Page 23 a dozen feet of him and then his glance rested on De Coster and slowly traveled to me. “Good mornin’ jedge; won’t ye git down?” We dismounted, as the old man pushed a pair of silver rimmed spectacles of the bulkiest kind—regular “bull’s eyes” —up under his hat, and put our nags in a sort of pen at the back and then entered the house. What it lacked in room it made up in extreme airiness. The logs were not battened and the breezes could easily enter. The furniture was meager. A high bed, to guard against fleas, a board on a barrel for a table and one cowhide seated chair constituted all. The chair and an old box was pushed forward to us with the request to “take some cheers” and as we sat down old Uncle Ben dropped upon the rickety floor of his piazza, with his back to a post, hauled his knees up to his chin and asked for news. An exchange of items between himself and De Coster having been accomplished we proposed to eat our lunch, take a smoke and go on. Uncle Ben proposed coffee and asked if we wouldn’t like some. De Coster hesitated but finally accepted stating that he didn’t like to trouble him. “It’s no trouble, Jedge, and I know ye’d like it. Ef I was stoppin’ at yer house I’d hev some, I reckon, I can git it for ye in a minit.” With that a tin quart pot, with a wire handle, was filled with water and some ground coffee and balanced on a piece of smouldering lightwood. A few other bits of wood broken from the piazza floor were formed triangularly about it and old Uncle Ben resumed his seat, giving occasional tender glances at his “kettle” to guard against its sudden kerflumniix as the wood burned low. Dry weather, crops, and such matters were discussed until the coffee “bilded” over. Up he jumped, grabbed his little tin porringer by running a stick through the handle

Page 24 and emptied the boiling contents into the smallest specimen of a coffee pot imaginable— holding 4 cups at its utmost limit—and as he with a pint peanut measure, put in a few drops of cold water to settle it, he said: “Gentle-men, the coffee is ready: sit up to the table.” An ancient china cup—minus a handle—and a saucer plentifully nicked and with a map of all the Florida creeks and rivers lined out on its surface, were placed before us as we sat up to the festive “board,” and while I took the cup and De Coster the saucer Uncle Ben hunted up some sugar “of his own make” wrapped in a piece of newspaper. Then we pulled out our biscuits and sweet potatoes and “et” while Uncle Ben resumed his position of supporting the piazza post. Our canopy—the “shed” roof—was lined with a mass of spider webs, whitened with the collected dust of years, and as the two “Knowin ones” talked agriculture and farming I traced lovely designs for lace curtains overhead and listened. It took, however, but a few moments to eat our repast. The coffee was a pleasing addition. For desert [sic] De Coster read a poem, which he discovered on the scrap of paper that had covered his biscuit and old Ben listened to his sing song delivery in silent rapture. As we were about to leave I learned that this house and its tender were denominated Fort Winder. Mounted on our shaggy steeds we bid “Good morning” to Uncle Ben Stevens and struck the trail for Platts. —passing through more piney woods of heavy growth and down a “hill” and up again, past a pretty mass of trees to the left, reaching that house in 15 or 20 minutes. No one was at home, but a small bare headed female cracker, aged 4, standing outside, tried hard to tell us where the absent ones were [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 25 house De Coster is building for Platt in payment of the “Santa Maria” which is shaped thus:

[Drawing of a symmetrical house diagram with piazzas front and rear. Front piazza extending across entire front, back one open on rear and enclosed by small rooms on sides. Shotgun hall separating two rooms, one each larger and smaller to either side. Square building, steps at each piazza in line with the center hall.]

The house rested on solid lightwood blocks large and round at the base and planed down to a square top of six inches where it touches the house sill. The house was only one story high with a roof exactly like mine. The boards ran up and down and were planed on both outer and inner side besides being tongued and grooved. There was no inside ceiling the side supports and rafters being planed also. The old house was a picturesque old tumble down log hut at the rear with orange trees 10 or 12 years old in full bearing and other fruits about it. After taking a horseback look at the new house we struck across at right angles with the Pine Level trail to the shore line of Peace Creek again and commenced the oddest wild goose chase I ever had over a country as varied and picturesque as the upper part of Shell Creek. We waded stream, almost pitching over our horses heads as we scrambled down the steep bank and made circles among rich masses of cabbage, live oak and cypress with pendent vines and festoons of feathery moss, crept through tiger cat holes and passed where shaded paths and dark byways domed each other in all directions. Only a person well acquainted with the locality—could have kept a straight course through all the tangle. We would at times emerge on the open land and trot through palmettos and pines and perhaps run across a log cabin and enclosure and then dive into labyrinths again and try to hang ourselves by the low hanging vines. We “dropped in” at “Daniel’s” at “Jacky Johnson’s” and other noted [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 26 of the house” attending to the family wash. Washboards were at a discount and not visable [sic] but a flat topped stump and a stick to beat the clothes as they in turn were layed [sic] upon it answered every purpose. As Mrs. Cracker pounded her linen under the shade of an orange tree Mr. Cracker and all the masculine members of the family sat upon the piazza and smoked vile tobacco in enormous pipes. Children with shock heads of flaxy tow, freckled and very pale doughy faces and a single garment only to cover their nakedness were rolling in the dirt. Every hut had its orange trees of from 8 to 15 years growth; placed wherever handy in the original setting out and many were loaded with blossoms and green fruit nearly ripe at the same time. High rail fences enclosed the shanties and the well was located in nearly every instance within a few yards of the picket gate each possessed. We stopped to take a drink of water at each and swapped news! After much hard trotting and novel rambling we reach De Costers plantation now occupied by Sim Johnson. We dismounted again and threw the bridle reins, as usual, over the pickets of the gate and entered. The location was a lovely one. The house, to be sure, was dilapidated and ancient with a log kitchen open to the weather forty feet to the rear. A eucalyptus tree, in full blossom, with myriads of white flowers hung over the piazza and a pink and a white oleander being equally full of flowers on the opposite side. A line of 8 year old trees with perhaps 300 to 500 oranges on each looked thrifty. A number of “sour lemons” and citric trees of different kinds had been cut down to the trunk and then grafted with sweet orange, about 130 trees in all, and were looking in splendid condition. The surface soil was similar in quality to ours and planted in corn and peas. The dry weather had not

Page 27 brought these crops to any promising stage—but the trees looked so very thrifty. the trunks varied from 1 ½ inches to 2 in diameter and resembled posts five feet high set irregularly—but with a loose attempt at regularity—to mark out an orange grove and in time—2 or 3 years—will make a beautiful place of the spot. The grafts were merely inserted under the bark and gummed over. In 2 years times a bunch of branches from 10 to 15 feet high is expected (?) to be on the stick and hanging with fruit. The roots were scraped free of dirt about the base to kill wood lice and the trees did not seem to suffer in consequence. We walked through the “grove”—in prospective—and down to the “lake” —a sort of deep bayou that makes in from Peace Creek. The house stands perhaps 40 feet above the water level and the ground descends gradually at first and more abruptly as the water is approached until it drops suddenly, over a grassy lawn, into a natural embankment of cypress knees. There is no shelving shore beyond and the water is 18 feet deep—so D.C. says. Trout in plenty were skimming about in the shadows of three or four stray cypress and live oaks that bordered the lake on our side and across the 60 or 70 feet of water was the usual border that we found so picturesque on Shell Creek—cabbage, cypress and live oak, with a tangle of moss and vines and high grass and lilies along the water line. To the left where the bayou ended was a swamp, with trees of larger growth and sombre looking and away to the right Peace Creek went peacefully by in the middle distance. Small bunches of floating grass and lettuce were slowly drifting along the mirror-like surface and a single white crane—with his duplicate in the water beneath flitted by to add a charm to the beauty

Page 28 of the scene. It was truly a lovely spot and “awfully sketchy”—and yet I would rather “locate” on the bay if you have no objection! Sim was not at home. His wife was alternately beating clothes on a stump and attending to the wants of a small female baby, kicking up its legs of 2 months growth on the piazza. So we took a parting drink from a square pine bucket at the well and traveled off. As we started De Coster pointed out his store house where thousands of dollars “changed hands” and he showed me also, further on, where he planted 2 acres of pigeon peas for wild turkie [sic] to gobble up so that he could at his leisure pick out the fattest there for table use. Then we galloped and trotted through heavy pines again and around rich clumps of swamp trees, through nine grass ponds filled with water fowl and across slashes and slews and headed for Pine Level direct. We visited more shanties on the way and studied nature. At one, a log hut by the roadside, a muchly freckled woman, with the sallow complexion of her face extending even to the little knob of sun dried hair at the back, was nursing a very pink baby with little clothing upon it. De Coster had business with her old man and galloped off to where he was marking calves while I staid [sic] behind to entertain the “ole voman” and be entertained by her. She was quite talkative. “Wont ye git down,” she said, as a preliminary to conversation, “It must be mighty hot ridin’ this weather.” To rest my bones I “git down” and deposit myself on the edge of heaps=azza. The baby continues his meal and two shock headed crackery children peep around the corner of the door way at the “stranger.” To please the mother I say “You have a very young baby there..How old is it?” [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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“He’s just gone of three weeks. The heat is so bad that he’s plum hettied [sic] and don’t sleep no account, and he can’t hardly get his breath. The fleas borther him bad.” Then, after a pause, “Its awful dry.” I acknowledge the fact for I am “plum dry and hetted” too. “Your crops must suffer much.” “We aint got us crops. Times is awful. We aint had no rain werth talkin’ ‘bout this year and eatin stuff is moighty scurce. If we don’t git rain purty soon I reckon as how we’ll hev to go to the woods with the cattil. Meat is plenty ‘noght but we want corn and taters. The cows don’t do ‘t’all and its so dry we can’t make us taters. We aint got a roastinear on the place and only a few tater vines for planting’ when the rain do come. When we dont git rain, thers no corn and taters and when we do git hit the taters sob so that they aint much good. We might a got some vines in last rain but Mrs Boggers she was a living’ here and they was awful low down; had’n’t nothing to eat but some few head a cattill and them was penned up inside over there. So they couldnt plant nothin. We didn’t like to turn ‘em out to hunt another house and them with no chance of meat, no corn and no taters and so we jest let ‘em stop on ‘til it got to be too late to plant and now we’s ‘bout as bad off as they was” and so she rattled on quite “permiscous” like until I was relieved of my entertainment by the return of De Coster. As I mounted I put in a finale “Well, I hope we’ll have a little rain soon and help you out; Good evening” and we were underway again. We passed several other huts or shanties of more pretention and others of even less. De Coster pointed out one tumble

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left—without fence or outbuilding as the residence of a Georgia Cracker who came there 3 or 4 years ago with an ox=team, wagon and a wife and 9 children. They planted a few potatoes and a little corn, got a few hogs and finally got rid of hogs and cattle—or eat them—and lived henceforth like four footed beasts themselves. The house had no floor but the sandy soil of Florida, no furniture, no chairs nor table nor beds. The inmates slept on the bare ground within with half tanned ox=hides for covering in cool weather, but in extreme weather when the howling northers would strike them the whole family would adjourn to the open air, start a big log fire and lie down spoon fashion, like human sardines, beside it until daybreak. “Such people,” De Coster remarked, “don’t do much good to the country.” I should suppose not! Again our road grew picturesque more varied and tooralural. Wild cattle were on every side and munching some grass along the “roads.” Evidence of “town life” became visable [sic] as cracker girls, in bare feet and short dresses appeared driving the cows home for their modicum of the lactial [sic] fluid. At one time, as a contrast 4—sand hill cranes rose up 80 feet ahead, stretched their long necks and sailed away making the echoes ring with their unearthly “saw-filing.” A hawk, at another turn in the road, moved upward grandly in widening circles with a three foot snake dangling and twisting about his claws. Then we met “Ned.” “How are you, Ned” said D.C. “Good evenin’, jedge,” answered Ned. “What’s the news at the Level?” “Nothin new,” said this second edition of Jim Weller; “only that feller Johnson has dug out o’ jail agin. I know’d he’d do it when he asked for a remand.” “Is that so.” queried D.C.

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“Yes, jedge, its so. You know he scratched out in front last time, but this time he went out at the back. Sw—t [?] was’n’t it?” “I thought he had a guard placed over him. “He did. They hed nigger Jim on the platform over head and Johnson was chained to the floor, but he jest twisted his chain and scratched out.” “Sho!” said the “jedge,” “Well good bye, I’ll see you up to the Level tomorrow won’t I!” “I reckon.” This party by the name of Johnson was arrested a short time ago for extensive dealings in cattle that belonged to other parties without their advice and consent. He with others had operated on a large scale and made many a dollar. He was brought to Pine Level for trial, but he took French leave one dark night and soon engaged in the old traffic with even better success. Lately he was again captured and brought by the sheriff a hundred miles to Pine Level for trial. His trial was put off on last “Court day” and then he put off himself, as “Ned” stated. The sun was getting low and we had a mile further to go. We had already jolted through 28 or 30 of them and were anxious to finish, so we “put spurs” to our skeletons and galloped along as rapidly as our “jaded steeds” could travel and the conformation of the ground would admit. Finally through the pines we sighted the town in the midst of tall trees and soon drew up at the gate of the first house. This was Margues. We came in on one side and the “Hickory Bluff” road came on the other, both uniting and making a broad straight trail through the town. On the right, at various distances from the trail were the jail, Comb house, Bartholfs house and store

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and several smaller houses and outbuildings. On the left were Morgans store, the sheriffs new house (all finished but the shingles) and one or two others beyond. All these were in the piney woods and surrounded by saw palmettos and “scrub oak.” Morgan was on hand but very “puney,” as he expressed it. His head was aching badly and his stomach worse. He sent his boy with us down to the store and we went in at the back to hunt for letters. We found none. Crossing the road we visited the spot where Johnson “scratched out.” There at the back of a double log shanty of peculiar construction, with one cross barred window and a stair way leading to raised platforms in front, was the hole, a foot and a half in diameter and 4 feet deep leading under the lower logs of the structure, where the prisoner had worked out. The marks of his hands knees and feet, made as he crawled out, still remained, but the “corpus” was far away. To Bartholfs was but a few steps. We drew up at his gate. A long, lanked figure with a hoe, two black eyes with arching brows and coal black, silky, beard called out: “Take your horses to the yard and come in,” then followed slowly, as we took off saddles and bridles and welcomed us under the shadow of his corn crib. His old cream colored Rosinante also put in a grunt of welcome to the “best horse in Manatee County” and the “Spasha pony.” We followed Bartholf to the house afterward, deposited our trops [sic] on the front piazza—or porch—and then went into his store house, almost adjoining. This store house proved to be a funny little building with a counter 4 feet high running along one side for 20 feet and the usual collection of barrels and boxes and bundles. At the far end the roof dropped so low that the store keeper’s six feet of frame had to bend in reaching for bottled maple sugar and canned oysters. The store was pretty well stocked with

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fair show. One or two customers came in while we were there but corn, at the rate of $2 per bushel, satisfied their wants. I had a hurried glimpse only of the “store” and then we went back to the house Bartholf keeping up a pretty good “clack” and using rather better language than is customary in this part of the world. Bartholf’s house is shaped thus so far as the ground plan is concerned:

[Drawing of shotgun house, front to back rooms aligned piazza, open hall (length of three rooms), dining room, kitchen. Off the hall are two symmetrical rooms on each side, three bedrooms and a sitting room.]

We sat on the piazza which had side seats and several straight backed hide bottomed chairs of Cracker make. At the back through the long hall a crackery woman was dimly visable [sic] cooking—with the help of a younger Minorcan looking female. Five children were scattered along the hall and 3 dogs outside were growling and barking in the attempt to drive a black pig out of the gate every 5 minutes. This latter maneuvre was quite an exhibition. The pig would as soon as he was forced outside make the circuit of the house and come in at the back. The three small dogs would then “make” for him— one at each ear and the third in the rear and no matter how hard Mr. Pig would fight or try to keep inside these dogs would worry him to the fence and as he neared it “blackie” would give in run his nose against the gate in sheer despair and exit—only to come round and try again, evidently with a latent hope that finally, if he persevered, he would win. This he repeated six times as I sat there amused, and listening as well to Bartholf and D.C. discussing politics and the County Commissioner meeting on the morrow, when Mrs. B interupted [sic] with a loud call from the remote end of the bowling alley: “Supper’s ready.”

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We walked back and sat down to a table covered with a clean cloth, but the benches of pine were extremely hard after our 30 miles ride. Tea and coffee, hot bread and biscuit, bacon and grease and sweet potatoes furnished us with a good supper and our appetites being keen we did not take long to eat it. Mrs. B said nothing during the meal. In her case, judging from reports “silence was golden.” De Coster and Bartholf kept the conversation ball rolling and I “et.” Then we fed our horses on corn husks, corn cobs and corn and adjourned to the front piazza to pass the evening. As a mark of respect I was given the only cigar. While smoking it I endeavored to get a comfortable position on the hard seated chairs, and listen to the town cries. Down by the barn shed and corn crib the two horses were munching their provender. Just beyond was a camp fire surrounded by about 20 nig—jawing and laughing; cracker whips and “cow hollers” echoed clearly through the pines breaking the stillness musically and the barking of numerous dogs added the deeper tones. All sounds were moderately distant, close about us quiet reigned broken only by the voices of the two “great men” and Bartholf youngest. Then one after the other paid foot devotions to the wash tub and disappeared. The last boy dropped asleep on his second foot and nearly fell in the tub. Bartholf sang “Little Brown Jug” to his Infant Micawber to quiet him and then all went, the “Karsene” lamp without chimney shedding Just glimmer enough to light us to bed—and fleas.

P.G.C. Saturday April 29, 1876 After a night of fleas—and spasmodic nightmare jerks and gasps from the sleeping De Coster—during which I get a half supply of sleep only, I yawned, got up and dressed at daylight. The

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Minorcan was out first and down to the barn yard or “pen” to milk the cows. Soon after she was churning and on the breakfast table was placed the fruit of her labor—a substance of whitish hue which went by the name of butter. The breakfast was a good one. Fried piney wood’s ham, fried eggs, sweet potatoes, pearl hominy, griddle cakes—a foot in diameter—butter, sugar, molasses and coffee. I stored away 3 eggs and a fair supply of the other eatable and considered myself —although lame and sore—capable of making my 25 miles back home safely. More corn was given the pony and De Coster’s “bones” were put out to pasture before breakfast. After breakfast I dropped in the store, swore to my affidavit a quarter’s worth, settled for corn and flour, bought 25 cents worth of “candies” for the children—Phip being so anxious that I should bring him “some Pine Labels.” —and half a dozen boxes of matches—arranged for 10 gallons of Manatee molasses and underwent importunities to purchase the entire stock, or any portion thereof, got the balance of money due from the sale of the pistol to Driggers—consumed an hour in gossip and at 9 o’c saddled the pony, lashed on my blanket and started home. My sides ached so that I could hardly sit in the saddle, and as I moved along slowly under the tall pines—after passing Morgans where a black wench stopped scrubbing with her huge corn husk brush, curtsyed and said good morning—the sultry air, so oppressive there, made me feel weak and “sea sick.” Several times I wanted to dismount and lie down by the road side for a few moments, but I persevered and gradually over came the mawkish sensation. My only hope of a bite before reaching home was to get to Platts by noon and I hurried my pony in as fast a walk as I could by tickling him with my

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apology of a spur. For miles I passed through pine woods without a break and not even a ripple of a breeze counteracted the heat that worked down through the tree tops. It was intensely warm and very monotonous. Half way to Platts I passed an ox wagon, deserted by the roadside with some goods inside and 2 miles further saw a cart in motion, on a little stretch of prarie [sic], approaching slowly along the road. The wheel tires were bright with scouring over the hot sands and the wheels measured fully 5 feet in diameter and were six feet apart. Two medium sized “cattil” were yoked to it. A meek looking Cracker walked leisurely in the rear and a small boy sat on the load peeling a palmetto cabbage and making a meal from the bits he cut off with a big jack-knife. I turned out of the road to let the cavalcade pass, but my horse stopped for a chance gossip. I spurred him but he knew best. “Good mornin’,” said Mr. Meekness. “Good morning,” repeated I. “You hav’n’t seen ary ox-team nor a waggin on the road up above, hev ye?” “Yes; I noticed about 2 miles back a wagon, and 2 steers grazing at the side of the road.” “I reckon them’s the ones.” “The wagon had couple of wash tubs an oxhide and some corn sacks marked J.F.B. I suppose they belong to Bartholf. I have just left his place.” “Oh, no; them’s not Bartholfs. Thems Tuckers goods. J.B. stands for Tucker you know.” “Is that so?” Yes; J.B. stands for Tucker,” with an air of superiority. “What mought be your name?” “Howard. My house is on the bay. By the way, [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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this all the way to Hickory Bluff?” “Yes; tolerbly plain road all the way down. A trail comes in jes b’low, but you can’t miss it. Good mornin’, G’long there.” And away traveled Mr. Meekness, slowly and methodically, with his big cart and small boy. For three miles thereafter I saw, in the road, stray pieces of cabbage as they were thrown out by the latter. Whooping cranes, blue and white ditto, snipes, spanish curlew and other bipeds were seen in nearly every grass pond. In watching for these birds the hours moved by more quickly. A pleasant breeze sprung up finally and as the woods were more open, with stretches of prarie [sic] land I felt better and cooler. As I grew accustomed to the saddle once more and smoothed the creases out of bones, sinews and muscle I made my pony trot and by constant spurring I made quite rapid progress. At noon I sighted Platt’s and soon hung my horse on the gate pickets back of the new building. Curry—old man Curry—was grinding a chisel in deliberate manner as I entered. I asked for a drink of water and Mrs. Platt (weight about 250) waddled to the well, drew a fresh bucket and handed me the dipper. As I drank I noticed the table on the piazza well filled with plates and provender and almost ready for dinner. I was in time! So I ‘sort o’hung round” in Cracker fashion and maneuvred for an invitation. I talked with old Curry and prolonged the delightful conversation. But I began to run short of subjects. Mrs Platt broke in with “Mr Curry, your dinner’s ready.” I got up with a “Well, I must be off” and then followed the welcome “wont you stop and eat some dinner with us?” from Mrs. P. I accepted, returned and washed my hands in a handy basin and then sat down beside “old Curry.” (Ugh) Mrs. Platts

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Mrs P at the foot and Miss P. (weight 200) sat opposite. Fat and adipose matter were in demand. The refreshments were 3 heaping plates of sweet potatoes, junks of boiled beef in 3 others and a bowl of grease and a big pot of corn coffee. “Help yourselves, if you can find anything” said Mrs. P. and I “holped” me. The old lady entertained me with the troubles of a neighbor whose injured arm “was as big and hard as a pine log” and “yer fingers wouldn’t make no dent any more nor they would on a log.” and I satisfied my appetite and talked back. The meal was quite lengthened by the recital of the neighbor’s woes. The old lady’s final remark was “Ef this nob lasts I’m afeared her arm will rot off and kill her.” Then her old head and gray hairs moved slowly to and fro in gloomy ruminations. Then we got up. I lit my pipe, thanked the good lady for my meal, brought in the pony and watered him, by drawing 2 buckets of water up a well 20 feet deep and through the hollowed trunk of a cypress tree and then departed on my way. Piney woods, prarie [sic] lands, grass ponds and small cabbage hammocks succeeded each other and repeated themselves. Occasionally stopping for a rest, then walking ½ a mile or so and leading the pony, catching glimpses of stray huts just discernable through the tree trunks, many cattle, several whoopers and more wild birds I make my way toward home and after much monotonous and quiet rambling I reach De Coster’s about ½ past 4 o’c. Freddie is there and he rides the “Spasha pony” to the mill while I foot it for a change. Fred is getting his meal ground and that finished we all get aboard the white boat, stop at De Costers for a pail of milk and Fred rows over. We take supper in half twilight. I go to bed tired and ready for much sleep—after undressing on the back piazza and hanging my clothes and Bartholf’s fleas on the line. And thus ends my trip to Pine Level.

[Pages 39-42 missing? Dates and subject matter seem to be correct, although next page is marked 43.]

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Fla. Sunday April 30, 1876

My dear Pa,

Having finished up my records of the Pine Level trip I will enter upon the diary of passing events at P.G.C. again. The weather is still warm and extremely dry with little evidence of rain visiting us soon. Our little trips “across the potato Beds” are repeated three times a day and the co-operative house keeping cooking, wood chopping and potato digging goes on comfortably. The harmony between the two families is not broken by the slightest discord. All goes smoothly and each one endeavors to do well and help the other. There is no clashing of ideas as each one –ets [?] for his neighbors’ comfort. The day passes quite comfortably. Brenda goes over to Fred’s to “church” and I look after the mites and rest after my trip, writing up matters pertaining to Cracker oddities and loafing about between meals. In the afternoon, just before Sundown water my 75 trees, noticing an improvement in the young bananas cropping up from the ashes of our late fire. I counted 20 new bananas.

P.G.C. Monday May 1, 1876 Still warm and increasing in intensity. The sun rays at noon are scorching. Still feel used up from my Pine Level trip, but “put in” a little digging and grubbing and keep moving. Fred and I together chop up wood enough to last a week and get that matter off our minds.

P.G.C. Tuesday may 2, 1876 —Warm again but breezy with a jolly good breeze from the west. Fred oils up a molasses keg and Freddie Phip and I take it over to go up with De Coster’s team to Pine Level and return with 10 gallons of Manatee molasses. We also leave letters for home to go by the “Santa Maria.” De Coster informs me that the commissioners agreed up a new Court house $2.500 being appropriated and that he will get the contract for [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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He was also, satisfactory in making his arrangements with Williams and having paid for the mill in cattle now owns it absolutely. Help Fred this evening in watering some wilting orange trees.

P.G.C. Wednesday May 3, 1876 More westerly winds and more warm, dry, dusty weather. Succeed only in getting one lemon hole finished. It took me 4 hours and was an awful one. The “Delia” which went up river last Friday loaded with $1.500 worth of Henderson’s stores to establish a new bartering house went back to Tampa today. Fred and Anna pass the evening at “Conflagration Manor.”

P.G.C. Thursday May 4, 1876 —Warm again in afternoon but quite cool this morning. Wind blows first from N.W. changes to N.E. then S and at last W. Dig 2 lemon holes and commence a third. Also rake up a pan full of sweet potatoes. Fred crosses to De Coster’s and returns with the welcome information that a “beef cattle” will be slaughtered tomorrow. We are to look for the signal. The “Santa Maria” to sail when beef is added to her stores—tonight or tomorrow. Gillis is doing the “hunting” this time. Discover an increase in bananas; count 40 this evening. Start a patch down by the fence to save them. Water 25 trees and most of Fred’s “tommies.” Over 50 tomatoes on Freds plants.

P.G.C. Friday May 5, 1876 - The “Santa Maria” starts for Key West today with a strong head wind as usual, with a big load of lumber to White and Ferguson in exchange for groceries and provisions. No beef signal up. Threatening weather towards evening. Heavy clouds all over the sky, but after the moon rises the sky is clear. Warm and sultry this evening. Fred counts 26 guava buds on his young trees. Hip! Hip!

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Haul up the white boat for repairs and a couple of coats of paint. Water 25 trees—all doing well.

P.G.C Saturday May 6, 1876 —Gillis comes over in lighter this morning with De Coster’s pony. “Spasha” pony swapped for another. Gillis goes home and I go with him as far as the “pens” hoping to get something to bring back. We go a mile beyond and then I leave him. Come across three cranes (sand hills) at the “pens.” Creep behind trees and get almost within shooting distance when they fly to a pond near there. Do some more creeping and get within sight. Go a hundred feet nearer on hands and knees and get a good shot. Fire deliberately at 40 yards—and miss. The pond is filled with wild cattle. 30 or 40 head rush like the wind through the woods and my red pig, who followed us out, goes scampering along the cow path home. Disgusted I return home and when almost there start a small “burn.” As I go in to dinner the whole woods at the back are on fire and the wind changes more to the south. After dinner Fred and I have to fight it by starting a smaller fire and working around the eastern corner of my fence. Before evening the upper head is burnt out and after dark the wind changes to the east and the burn travels through the big brass pond back of us down towards Punta Gorda. During the day Fred puts on a brass toe piece and hell piece on the boat—using some old column rules of the Sunday Times and gets in a coat of paint. The boat shines tonight in the moonlight. Thermometer 87° today at noon. The last of white potatoes on my patch dug today.

P.G.C. Sunday May 7, 1876 Warm and pleasant Ther. at 90°. No work and therefore not bothered with the heat. Get through the day quietly. Cracker flies lively.

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No red pig comes in tonight—nor was he on hand last night. Wonder if the fire turned him into roast pork! Fred finds two more guava trees in blossom—this makes three all together. Water nearly half my orange trees tonight. Where is that rain?

P.G.C. Monday May 8, 1876 Warm still. Ther. again at 90°. Begin the day by chopping wood. Spread my sore hand and burst the sore again. For three weeks now nearly I have had my right hand (burned at the kitchen fire) done up in cold water. I thought it was all right, but it will be in a day or two. Fred gets on the second coat of paint and finishes the keel. Water 1/3 of my trees and Fred’s “tommies” again. Evening sets in with lowering skies and expectation of rain. The pig comes home.

P.G.C. Tuesday May 9, 1876 During last night the welcome rain came down in lively order for a while and this morning the ground is wet—just 1 inch down. Propose planting watermelons and peas but dont. No show. After a morning of sunshine and clouds more rain came. And for the remainder of the day a sort of drizzle was in order. But the dry sand drank it as fast as it fell. It strikes us a little odd at mealtimes but we pass to and fro under umbrellas comfortably. In the rainy season or cabriolet or covered dog cart will take the family with one exception over dry shod. Gillis comes in wet about 4 o’c with nary deer. He signals De Coster with a sheet but no one come. The tide at the time is very high and the westerly wind blowing a gale, filling the lighter and making it an impossibility for Gillis to cross. He takes tea after us, and will bunk in Fred’s sitting room tonight. It is quite cool this evening and has been so all day. During the [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] afternoon the “Santa Maria” comes [possible]

Page 47 in looking rather dilapidated. We all wonder what the trouble can be as we can hear lumber being unloaded. Gillis says she must have met with heavy weather as a fearful gale was blowing over his way all Sunday and the rain fell fearfully. Gillis said that the “Bonne” was at Punta Rassa loading with cattle for Key West and that he had met Driggers taking cattle down that way in consequence of some falling out regarding the “Laura.” This latter schooner is now laid up for a time and Driggers partner in ownership has taken her sails home with him. We have no only the “Santa Maria” to depend on. Wind changes a little toward north tonight.

P.G.C. Wednesday May 10, 1876 Cool and delightful once again. “Soon” in the morning a boat is seen coming over. Gillis waits for breakfast which takes after we have had ours and as the wind is strong and northerly gets back without lighter and pony. We are to make use of the latter and hunt us a deer. The “Santa Maria” we learn from John Lomond did meet headwinds and leaked so badly about her water line that Pepi put back. She had laid so long in smooth water that the heavy load of lumber brought in water. It was all over her cabin floor and up to the bunks. Her deck load was immediately taken off and she started again this mg. Ben shines up furniture and packs more things away. The house looks as clean as a pin. The bed, table and chairs have been oiled and a curtain hung to the double window. After dinner Fred mounts the pony with his rifle and I start on foot with my shot gun for deer. I go for a short hunt and Fred a long one. We go to the path to the “pens” and as Fred goes one way I return to the big grass pond and over to Alligater [sic] pond and so home. I get the wind in my face as I enter Alligater [sic] pond, move cautiously [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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hear the “blows” of several deer within 20 feet and a mighty rush of pattering feet. I am surrounded by bunch grass 7 feet high and see nothing but I follow the sound and as I get toward the center of the pond see a buck doe, with another buck in the rear slowly moving to the lower end. I dodge in and out of the grass hummocks and finally as they get on the burn I reach the edge where they three are only 80 feet from me. One buck and the doe stand off beyond a little and on a gopher hill stands a regular patriarch of a buck with large branching antlers, with his broadside toward me and staring me out of countenance. I take deliberate aim and laugh quietly to myself to think of the good news I shall send you and George, I pull the trigger and—Mr. Buck and family leave. I miss the fine fellow and I would’n’t ask for a better shot. When they are beyond shooting distance I remember my second barrel and feel like a fool. “There’s many a slip” etc. I took aim at a tree and fire the shot in the other barrel in the roots of it and so found out that I had aimed too low I went home. There is a lull in the wind and I go fishing in the lighter. I strike it at 6 pound snook and miss and then give up fishing. Fred comes in, having seen 5 cranes and we all sit down to supper thoroughly disgusted with “sporting.” To night the wind is fresh and galey again.

P.G.C. Thursday May 11, 1876 Cool and delightful with a strong N.E. breeze. Chop a little wood, look at my trees and dont do much strong work as my hands still bother me. Count 50 banana bulbs and 15 revived trees in my orange nursery. The boat is turned over and a coat of light blue (almost white) put inside. It is a horizon sky tint and subdues the glare of white. After dinner conclude to try another hunt. Take my gun and don’t take pony—too much trouble.

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Visit Alligater [sic] pond. No one at home. Then through grass pond to Deer Hammock. See nothing. Then strike for Turkey Hammock. As nothing shows there strike a bee line for “pens” hoping to strike a whooper. The road is long and tedious. I rest and try the range of my gun on a tree. Get it. Feeding time at 6 o’c. Sun nears horizon. As I am anxiously looking for “pens” see a red cow to the right and glancing to the left think I see another. A graceful head is lifted and I for the first time see a deer before that deer sees me. It is almost to wind of me but I get a bunch of palmettos as cover and hurriedly move toward it. Looking over the palmettos upon reaching them I find three deer, one buck and two does, feeding quietly. A large tree to the left a little offers cover and I am soon within 150 feet. They shake their flags look my way and feed gradually drawing nearer. I wait for a good chance and throw off my hat. Just as I think they are in good position and get my gun ready and on the point of looking round my tree hear a scamper. They go off like wildfire in splendid style. I fire at the buck who is just lapping the doe. I miss. My second barrel I direct toward the doe. She jumps in the air 20 feet and comes to the ground her knees plowing up a cloud of sand. I load again and walk to my game. With my pistol I give the final shot and she rolls over and is dead. My first deer is actually killed at a distance of 60 yards and I follow the hunters usual plan and then after a few moments draw the animal, cut off its head and tieing the legs together get it slung on my back and start for home. In 10 minutes I sight the “pens” fire at a whooper, with my 60 pounds of deer on my back, and hit it but not hard enough to bring it down as it flies over me and keeps on. From where I

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shot the doe to home is 3 miles. All this distance I carried my burden and felt long before I got in that I would be compelled to leave it in the woods and come out with help to bring it in, but I was bound to bring in my first deer and so trudged on. Anna, all smiles, met me at the gate and took my gun and then was great rejoicing at the ranche [sic] when all parties gathered round to view the critter. It was almost dark when I sat down to my solitary supper. That finished and a pipe it Fred cut up and skinned the deer with my help and hung up enough to keep us in good condition for a week. During my absence De Coster’s pony jumped the fence 3 times.

P.G.C. Friday May 12, 1876 More strong winds from N.E. Gillis drops over at daylight and with John Lomond takes the pony and lighter back. Venison chops for breakfast—although Friday—but Fred takes eggs while we try venison. Stretch the deer skin on store house and cure it. Feel awfully used up and stiff all day. Can hardly move one leg before the other. Must shoot next deer nearer house! A heavy gale blows in afternoon. No mosquitoes in weeks. Numerous white cranes visit our grounds. They walk with the chickens and look astonished when the old rooster crows. Howly and breezy at bed time.

P.G.C. Saturday May 13, 1876 The same old breeze with delightful weather. Feel still stiff but work it off in grubbing roots and digging. Fred “jerks” some deer meat. Lovely tender chops and venison stew today helps wonderfully. The 7 Howards eat to repletion. The doe was not particularly fat but the meat is plenty and excessively tender. We all wish you were here to take a [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Sunday May 14, 1876 A bright sunny day, with the same strong wind from N.E. More white cranes, evidently from down the bay rookery gracefully fly over our places and along the shore. They are young and perhaps this is their first “set out” in the feathered world. Every few minutes Phip rushes in with “Papa, more whooper canes.” Some rest on the fence and some on the ground making a pretty effect in among the palmettos. Brenda goes to church after our breakfast of venison stew and “corn and taters” and I stop at home with the “chil der.” At dinner we have a decided treat. The saddle is roasted and we partake little gluttons. Such tender juicy meat one don’t often get in Florida. With the saddle we have green corn (four ears with a dozen kernals [sic] on each), some of my peas made into string beans (just enough for a tasty maccaroni [sic] and “laters.” By care our sweet potatoes will help us out considerably. During the meal the red pig forces an entrance and a chase results. As we have so much fresh meat we dont shoot him as we originally intended. No damage done, however. We p— for fattening—if such a thing be possible. A large fire from Pope’s to Platts rajes [sic] all afternoon over the bay. Sit on front piazza and smoke and enjoy the varied outlook until long after dark. A few mosquitoes turn up, Fred and Anna having joined us, and we pass the evening inside.

P.G.C. Monday May 15, 1876 The same bright sunny weather with a strong nor’easter blowing lustily. More venison— cut ham fashion—not so tender but exceedingly good. Another shower of white cranes (like the first snow flakes of the season) comes all day through the woods and around us. Major part [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 52 breaks out in soft hand boils. As I am in the same condition, with a beastly sore on my leg we agree to give up condensed milk in coffee, only lately having taken it up again. We swear off. White boat gets her second tint to day on inside. Never looked better. A strange schooner enters out harbor about dark and anchors off Platts. Water 25 trees this evening. Dry and dusty all day. The howling winds tonight sound like those of a norther; only it isnt cold without—or within.

P.G.C. Tuesday May 16, 1876 A day of warmth, wind and straggling clouds. Wind more easterly and very strong. More white cranes and occasionally a whooper. One white crane fans me with his wings within 3 feet of me. Thermometer 85°. Venison steak for breakfast and roast venison for dinner. Although deer meat, it proves the cheapest in the long run! The “strange” schooner proves to be the “Bonne.” She runs up before breakfast. Get “Frou Frou” in water and she presents a pretty picture. Then we pull her up on the ways and trust that Fred can sleep o’nights hereafter. Work in banana patch morning and afternoon. It grows rapidly. Chop wood and do cabinet work at noon time. Freddie and Phip each with a grubbing hoe “help” in the banana patch as I hoe it up. They work hard and the perspiration rolls off of them. They both copy the movements of their old man and make a study for a sign painter. Water trees again this evening. Very dry. Nearly a week of strong winds and still blowing a gale at bed time.

P.G.C. Wednesday May 17, 1876 The same N.E. and E wind blowing briskly. The same hot sun and gathering of clouds for him to play hide and seek among. At night the same old

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howls from Mr. Boreas. Ben plays considerably on her “piano” today and she makes it her principal forte while I with Phip and Freddie grub up roots and dig into the banana patch. Retire early after watering my 25 trees.

P.G.C. Thursday May 18, 1876 The unoiled wings of a whooper creak harshly in my dreams at daylight. I wake up and jump up and on looking back see two big birds feeding and catarwauling on the other side of the fence. I hurriedly dress, seize my gun and get on the piazza only to see Neuse jump the fence and go for them. Fred with his rifle was on the same boat. Neck ties were at a discount. But just before breakfast the crack of Freds rifle really sounds and a young whooper bites the—water. Fred rifles him of his life on the shore and brings him up to the piazza at arms length with the huge bill dragging on the ground. Mean while—cranes appear. Try to catch one by the legs as it sails by and miss by 6 or 8 inches The same old wind brings down the “Bonne” I scrape together part of my diary and the Pine Level trip and Fred and I board her as she rushes by starting these letters home. The “Bonne” is commanded by “Gavielle” and has no cattle on board. She is now anchored opposite at De Costers—perhaps to get a load of lumber. If she remains I will send this sheet in addition to the others tomorrow. Towards dark the wind changes to the west and then gets round to S.E. again. There are chances of rain, but very meagre ones. For dinner today we had a venison pie. Yesterday “Pops.” Jerked venison and the whooper still in the larder. Ben plays her “piano” more today and makes sponge for bread tomorrow.

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P.G.C. Friday May 19, 1876 Again the east wind—which seems to be a decided fixture—blows—moderately in morning and briskly after dinner, with the same old gale after dark. Towards bed=time the wind works to the south and starts up the big fire a mile back of us that has been smoking for the past two days and a grand illumination of sky and woods ensues. It has been excessively warm to day and so dry and parched like. During the morning Fred and I drop over the bay in tinted “Frou Frou” and call upon De Coster. The “Santa Maria” is expected tonight. D.C. goes into Joselyn reminescences. Positive information had reached him “through a party who desires to be unknown” —perhaps Curry—that a missing grubbing hoe of Freds was seen with “HOWARD’ marked on it in Joselyn’s cabin down the bay. And also that, from certain conversation “cussing” of Fred etc, Joselyn attempted to steal Fred’s boat last year. De Coster would like to put “the pirate” in the penitentiary if he could. Among other news items he stated that “Jake Driggers” lit his pipe and threw his match on the hearth, shut up his house and took his family to visit a neighbor. When he came back home, kitchen store house and everything he had in the world was burned up. I can easily sympathise with Jake Driggers. Curry has obtained the contract to build the new court house. De Coster is to furnish 15.000 feet of lumber. The “judge” read us the first draft of a letter to the “Tampa Guardian” in which he writes glowingly of “Charlottes Harbor,” speaks of the fortunes to made in guavas, tells of his 10,000 trees yielding 1000 bushels to the acre and drops into poetry toward the close and calls upon “ye frozen ones of the north to come to our land of milk and honey, where in this genial clime every one can sit under his own vine and fig tree with no one to make him afraid , —eat cocoa nuts, oranges, lemons limes, guavas, Tamarinds etc etc. Where the

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mocking bird lulls you to sleep in the evening and awakes you with his delicious warbling in the morning. Come all ye that suffer! etc etc.” I am afraid, however, if they come in any such number the “hotel” wont hold them. As De Coster has 10.000 guava trees I strike him for a hundred young ones and Fred and I will try and set them out before the rainy season. I also turn over my second keg of nails to him for $7.00. What remains of the afternoon I devote to my banana patch. It now measures 40 X 20 fully prepared and ready, dug up and rich in vegetable matter and nearly as much more free of roots. I propose to make it 40 x 65 and plant my bulbs 8 feet apart. Water 1/3 trees after supper.

P.G.C. Saturday May 20, 1876 This morning we notice looming up out of the haze the Santa Maria opposite. Later we learn that she arrived at 9 o’c last evening having left K.W. on Saturday last. Head winds and a leaky bottom detained her. Fred and I go over about 10 o’c after chopping a cart load of wood, and find letters to Apl 28. and papers ditto, with no news from you. The steamer that left N.Y. on May 6 ran aground and the mail was delayed. We found a bag of corn I had sent for which we left at the mill to be ground and went home with 1 qt of molasses and 7 lbs of sugar as paid up debts, and a bucket of milk and four cocoanuts as gifts. One of the letters was from the Barstow stove co and addressed to you. It is the best yet and I repeat it: “Dear Sir: We are still awaiting your reply to our letters of Dec. and March. We hope it will be convenient for you to remit for the a/c soon as we could make very good use of the money just at this time. We believe this is the “harvest-time” of those in the “orange business” and think perhaps this may be a convenient time for you to settle our a/c— which is so long overdue. Hoping to recieve [sic] a reply to this soon we remain Very resply. Barstow Stove Co.”

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Fred and I looked at our trees afterward but can’t yet see the “harvest-time.” Our “crop” is so small I am afraid we shall have to defer “settling.” After dinner we take another trip to the mill and get our meal and return. Our molasses keg not yet sent to Bartholf. Finish the day in the banana patch. Ben made 4 loaves of bread today and two pans of biscuit. The flour is quite good and the bread ditto. A slight fall of rain occurs this evening but only lays the dust. Westerly winds blow at last.

P.G.C. Sunday May 21, 1876 Westerly winds again and a very hot scorching day. Ther., however, only 88°. Late breakfast and unusual good dinners. Nine string beans from my patch of peas and a cocoanut pudding. 2 cocoanuts we reserve for planting, but hardly expect to see them come up. Water 1/3 trees again. The season of beautiful sunsets arrived. The sun was fiery red tonight and the sky varied and brilliant with masses of clouds. All the babies in good condition and also those of larger growth. Lately Fred and I have been night- trappers with figure 4 traps. He has caught 7 rats and I one. I hear no more pattering feet at midnight.

P.G.C. Monday May 22, 1876 The “Sainted Maria” is having her bottom scraped on Keys beach. Tow is being forced in her cracks but with no intention of making her a tow-boat. She is expected to go to Key West in a day or two and we are all preparing our mail to go with her. Another warm dry day is to be chronicled, with fitful breezes and these from the westward. Fred and I chop a cartload of wood and as he finishes up painting the rigging of “Frou Frou” I dig up more banana patch. At 11 o’c the heat is so intense I return to the house. After dinner we kill our “meat hog” and go through the disagreeable process of getting his hair off and cleaning him. It hardly paid for the trouble. Water the remaining third

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of my orange trees and find them all but two—which were in the line of fire—doing nicely. Those of the first lot seem to be doing the best. By the last mail Fred got a letter from Clarke stating that the trees he sent first were the choicest in his nursery, the second lot having been hurriedly got together for the postman as he waited. This postman had not notified him on his outward trip of Fred’s wishes and therefore in his delay Clarke had to hasten. As bed time approaches distant thunder rolls over the pines to the eastward with occasional flashes of lightning. The wind is at E. and we may have rain— but I doubt it.

P.G.C.Tuesday May 23, 1876 Nothing came of the weather symptoms last night, the sun rises brightly and more warm weather ensues. Rain is non est. The “Santa Maria” still exposes her bottom on the opposite shore and her topmost points to Pine Level. To day we have had very little wind and what came came from odd points no stability being noticeable. More threatening clouds appeared in the east, north east at tea time but they frowned for a moment or two and then smiled at the joke. The sun went down gorgeously and Charlotte Harbor is as flat as a pancake tonight. Not a breeze stirred—not a—well, not a drop of rain fell in the parched earth. All day I have been resting my left leg to give a sore as big as a silver dollar a chance to soak out on the calf of it. The result is favorable; it don’t pain me and I shall go to work recuperated tomorrow. Watered more trees tonight (25) and they seemed to like it. Ben played the same old tune on her washboard, we all went over to meals and the literary society meets tonight. Nineteen years ago a California gentleman enclosed a dollars worth of stamps to the Sunday Times with the wish

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to have them credited to his account as a subscriber. On the way, stamps address, name, and letter were so stuck together that nothing was done. On overhauling a trunk today I found the stamps and by great care seperated [sic] them. Two stamps are on this batch of diary and the rest will go where they will do the most good.

P.G.C. Wednesday May 24, 1876 Warm again and at noon thermometer registers 90° and a fraction over. Do good work in banana patch and make considerable headway. Towards night a shower dampens the earth an inch beneath the surface and it was greedily devoured by the parched sand. About 2 o’c the schooner “Delia” went up with a “fair wind.” I suppose she had more of Henderson’s goods for the new Ogden store. Wind blows from every quarter today and is very unreliable. At one time the tide ran to within 6 inches of the top of Fred’s wharf and quantities of “Jack” red fish, trout and snook prowled about. I struck at several but did not hit any. One fish which I think was a “tarpon” was 6 feet long and sailed steadily eastward just out of reach. The water was clearer than I ever saw it; so much so that I could see fish as far out as the end of the wharfs. My graining pole was an impromptu one and worked badly—hence my bad luck. Fred’s big bayonet has a splendid blossom 18 inches high and eight inches in diameter. The red pig has furnished us with “fresh pork” yesterday and today and some is left for tomorrow. No more white cranes, but instead flocks of man o’war hawks hover over us. Fred shoots a six feet long coach whip snake and Phip calls it a “catterpillar.” At the time a Spanish mocking bird was chasing it across the potato beds. The real “serious” pine “mocking bird is extremely melodious in these days singing his varied song at evening and early morning. It is a lovely one.

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P.G.C. Thursday May 25, 1876 Similar day to yesterday only a trifle warmer. The same varying winds, as if Old Boreas was hunting in all quarters for the little shower he gave us at tea time. Another inch watered. Things green begin to pick up a little. Half my banana patch is finished and the rain makes the soil look black there. I have spaces for 20 bananas now and as soon as rain enough falls will set them out and various other lemon and lime trees. Fred measured off a banana patch today and proposes one about ½ the size of mine. A “bunch” of wild cattle has been on the “burn” back of us now for two days without wandering. Sand flies plenty and troublesome. In Fred’s kitchen they “borther” at meal times. To night the air is cool and enjoyable. The sun gave a brilliant performance this evening. The house frogs and crickets are speaking and the whip-poor-will calls out “more wet.” Hope so.

P.G.C. Friday May 26, 1876 A pleasant day with masses of clouds overhead, showers all around us, but not with us, gushes of wind, calm intervals and a most beautiful sunset. Brenda and Anna practise on the pianner, Fred paints his tub, rakes up his chufas and other beds and Freddie Phip and I dig in the banana patch. Freddie uses up an hour with the small grubbing hoe in unearthing a three foot palmetto root and smiles from ear to ear when he accomplishes his end. Phip hears of the great feat and quietly goes to work to do likewise. A loud laugh from him causes me to look up and I see him leaning on his hoe with a palmetto root in his uplifted fingers about the size of my thumb, perfect as a large one would be. Satisfied he goes up to the house to tell Mamma that he “dug up, with gubber hoe, big metter root. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy and may say] My patch is up ------to --- and still coming

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Fred, today, planted some radishes and a couple extra rows of casava also some more okra, taking the chances of rain.

P.G.C. Saturday May 27, 1876 During the morning we had much sunshine and few clouds. After dinner the cloud “bunched” up and at two oclock a shower of ½ an hour’s duration watered our trees and plants. Sunshine followed and then more shower. I took off all my leaves and the little Clarke trees looked bright and refreshed in the twilight. Fred and I took advantage of the morning to chop up some wood dig some “taters” and then to take a short hunt. We were gone only an hour and only “bagged” a 12 foot ‘gater [sic]. This old patriarch was sunning himself in the deep puddle in alligater [sic] pond surrounded by a numerous progeny, each member being 3 feet long. Fred put a rifle ball in his eye and he never moved again. We saw no deer, but footprints everywhere, some within 50 yards of our fence. Quail were plenty and buzzed up on every side. In the afternoon I put in a few licks, between showers, in the banana patch and set out 5 more stakes. I have now room for 25 bananas. The patch grows well and looks black and promising. During the sunset performance Fred and I tried to spear angel fish and sheepshead but could’n’t manage with any luck. As bed time approaches the sky in the S.E. is full of rain clouds rolling upward and a “circumstance” surrounds the moon—what there is of it. The “Santa Maria” has been afloat, turned round and beached again. Her masts are out and there is very little chance of sending you a letter soon. Like Robinson Crusoe we look anxiously for a sail and news from home. The frogs croak tonight, but faintly.

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P.G.C. Sunday May 28, 1876 Sunny, cloudy, and wet by turns. The sun came up behind clouds and shed some bright light on the landscape at intervals. Then the wind grew boisterous and howled fearfully all day. After dinner showers of short duration were visable [sic] in all directions and several did service on our place. At evening the sun dropped gaudily behind the Walden place and the north easterly wind continues. I tried to sketch the big bayonet before dinner, but was nearly blown away. After dinner Fred and I turned barbers and each was put in fighting trim. Reading and writing followed between the meals and Ben and I walked down to the “westerly slue.” Another dish of pea-beans was picked from my “garden” and we dined on maccaroni [sic], beans and taters, with some “tum-tiddleum tarts” for desert [sic]. Just now the air is cool and less dry than usual and a comfortable night is in store for P.G.C. sleepers.

P.G.C. Monday May 29, 1876 The hottest day of the season. Thermometer registers 92° at 2 o’c and sticks there the remainder of the day. Clouds float over our heads and threaten rain but no rain comes. A sprinkle or two rushes along the opposite shore but none crosses. But just as I write (8 o’c P.M.) the thunder rolls and a few drops putter on the roof. It has been an oppressive day for work. Just after breakfast I pulled out a hundred palmetto roots from the banana patch and then returned to the shade to mop off perspiration. Fred with his two hoes went to work near the path and also retired. Then I got saw and square and did some carpenter work following it up all the afternoon as it kept me shady. Sandwiched in between were little dabs at red fish and snook and Fred cut the head off of a rooster. By the way the hens are doing gloriously. 12 eggs in two days.

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I also painted Ben’s tubs a bright blue and tomorrow will add another coat for warm weather approaches. Harry Landon has just pulled through another double tooth and is preparing to walk. He behaves remarkably well and will do credit to the colony! The “Sainted Maria” has got up her masts again and looks like starting for Key West. If the signs continue Fred and I will cross tomorrow and deposit our letters for her departure. Just at tea time the “Delia” came down. She ran aground opposite but “hung by her head” a few moments and worked off. She is now on her way to Tampa. Fred and I thought of boarding her to deposit letters but concluded that the surer way would be to send by the “Sainted Maria.” Before I close these items I wish to add one more word. You probably got my books from John Anderson. If so, and you think best, open the boxes and select any or all (except the “Picturesque America” and such as you would think I might like to reserve) and if they are worth money turn them into cash. The “Dore’s London” is worth $20. and is sold at Appletons for $50. The “Leatherstocking Tales” are worth $15. at wholesale. The “Shakespeare” is worth $20 at Leggetts. And so, perhaps, with many others. Mother can tell you where to dispose of many of the newer works and some, I am sure, will bring a good price. Do as you think best. I can’t use the books here and the value of them I can. Whether to sell or not I leave entirely to your judgement [sic]. As you have noticed in my diary we are progressing as well as can be expected under the circumstances and we will continue so to do. With much love ever etc. Jarvee. G.A.G.

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P.G.C. Tuesday May 30, 1876 On looking again this morning across the bay discover the “Sainted Maria” still undergoing repairs with masts out and rigging down. The deck load of her previous trip still lies warping on the shore near Curry’s. We have many letters ready and wish the old craft underway. Through the glass we could see 5 men at work and they seemed to be coating her with tar. The weather today duplicates that of yesterday. Ther. again strikes 92° and sunshine and breezes work off the morning and clouds, high winds and a smart shower varied the afternoon. Fred again attacked his path between the houses and altered it. He also dug two lemon holes. I pulled out a hundred palmettos and dug up about 150 sq. feet of rich black earth in the banana patch. In addition I played carpenter and also painted Ben’s three tubs again. It was almost too warm for work, a sort of hot air as from a furnace rising from the earths surface. The sunset was as usual beautiful and calmness reigns now darkness has set in. If Jupiter P. would rain a little more copiously we should be better pleased. Fred’s radishes a failure again. Raw tommies for breakfast and also some jerked venison stewed. Corn was the “staff” however, as usual. A faint “odor” of mosquitoes in the air tonight. Nary sign of a watermelon yet on either place. Too much dry weather.

P.G.C.Wednesday May 31, 1876 Fred’s thermometer struck 92° again with perfect ease and yet it did not seem so warm. Gentle breezes shook the treeses [sic] and at one time for an hour “old Harry” tore things. A gale rushed over and under us at a fearful rate. Rain threatened, thunder rolled 2 miles away and Boreas howled but only a few drops fell and the white sand was hardly more than spotted. As [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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the one I soaked out on my left leg and pained me considerably I rested most of the day. Fred’s hands showed three in a fair state of cure. Therefore I chopped wood and he grubbed. But I got in a few “licks” in the banana patch and did some framing for the new store house and “pigsaruicturer.” Between times I handled the grains on the end of Freds small wharf. First I struck a 4 lb. sheepshead and brought him up to the wharf when he flopped off and disappeared. Two good 5 lb. red fish sailed along soon after and I put the grains in one of these. He also said “Good bye” before I could get him on terra firma. Then a mass of fishy flesh came sluggishly onward and I struck again. The grains held better and I drew 20 lbs. of drum fish ashore. On opening him found more worms than fish and concluded that my luck as a fisherman was not very good. At dusk, or just as the sun was setting, a boat approached. In it were Judge De Coster and Capt. Bartholf. They made a call only and returned after dark. The Capt. was much pleased. De Coster mentioned that the “Santa Maria” would not be ready for “sea” until the latter part of the week so we sent off ten letters by way of Pine Level and reserved the rest for the Key West route. Bartholf had allowed the molasses to slip his mind sticky as such stuff usually is but will try and send the first opportunity. The keg is still at the mill waiting for a raft to go up to the new court house. “Vat a beeples!” The wind is rising again and more clouds are floating over. Last evening Fred killed a 6 foot snake of some unknown species. It was like a rattlesnake without rattles, only darker. The “rooster” furnished us with an excellent dinner. Freddie, Phip and the baby, each with a bone, had a tea=party this afternoon.

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a flock of 35 white curlew flew over my head as I was in the banana patch today—all within shot—but my gun was at the house.

P.G.C. Thursday June 1, 1876 The season of roses begins with “nary” rose, even in this flowery state. The dry state of thing has prevented. Yet we feel easier tonight than we did this morning. A delightful shower of much force and penetration came upon us at tea time. The ground seems well saturated and every thing looks fresh and green. Visions of “tommies” are patent to our imaginations. The temperature has been several degrees cooler and we have not roasted. Fred dug some lemon holes and I put in 5 more banana stakes, jerked out 50 or 60 palmettos and commenced on my lime holes. The banana plants are now nearly 2 feet high and it is high time some were transferred to the new location. If there is enough water in the earth there I’ll try a few tomorrow. Another flock of curlew went over us during the storm. Snook and sheepshead plenty but our only graining point—the little wharf, is just out of reach. The “Sainted Maria” is still a stationery [sic] tub on Keys beach. Neuse is the walking skeleton of P.G.C. He can’t keep what little food we are able to give him on his delicate stomach. He suffers continually from sea sickness. It has become chronic. Fred acts as steward. The hens layed [sic] 6 eggs today. Corn was the “staff of life” at breakfast, dinner and “tea.” “No get corn, no comme [?]; -corn, he comme.” Over our tri-daily meals we often refer to you all at home and wonder what you are “a doing of.” Where’s Baggs now?

P.G.C. Friday June 2, 1876 At last Jupiter P. has started an introductory deluge in our locality. The surface of P.G.C. is flooded from rain which has been falling for the past hour or two. It came copiously and wetted well. Sunshine and hot weather with a little cloud variety lasted until 4 o’c

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heavy masses of black cloud loomed up in the north, east and south. The two former joined forces and took a northward course, the latter started to overtake the others roaring thunder tones and lighting its pathway with fiery flashes. Then the rain fell as it went over us and we ought to be satisfied. Now for the rice patch and all other patches. Now to set out trees and see nature smile again. Now for ‘tater’s and tommies and etc. It still rains at 8.30 and in a very gentle penetrating sort of way. This morning I felt like work as the weather was coolish and my “biles” were easy. First I fixed up 5 places for lime trees, then went an hour in the banana patch at digging up. At 11.30 I rested and as I often do now—rushed over to the wharf to look for fish. I was fortunate in getting—after losing two fish—an angel fish and a snook. I cleaned them and Anna cooked them. Meanwhile I washed up, changed my shirt and the dinner bell brought us to table. After dinner I marked out my front path and made a gutter on our side and set out more stakes for trees. Fred worked at his patch leading over here and made lemon holes. Ben and Anna played on the washboard and the three youngsters amused themselves generally. Just before the rain came we noticed a mast rising on the “Sainted Maria” and evidences that she was afloat again. It may be Monday or Tuesday before she leaves, however, and may be later. In the meantime our letters by way of Pine Level will let you know “we still live.” Gillis will go home this week or next and as there are two mails by way of Punta Rassa each week we will send some letters by him. Why don’t they rush that Charlotte Harbor railroad through [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Saturday June 3, 1876 Another week closes and we have no home news to satisfy our cravings. The hoisted mainsail of the “Santa Maria” is a good sign, however and we live in expectation. Tomorrow she will, perhaps, be ready to receive her load, on Monday she will load up and on Tuesday—perhaps— (at least we hope so) be off. There must be 5 mails from New York awaiting some chance to send to CW [?] This morning clouds obscured the sun and the air was refreshingly cool outside. In doors, however, it was warmer. After breakfast Fred finished up his part of the pathway and now we shall have a safe footing during the summer downfall of rain. It looks as nicely as a park road. In the afternoon he staked out his guavas and put his hoe into lemon holes; closing up with a grand walk around to gather in his palmettos fans. I opened the ball by digging holes in my banana patch, and setting out 3 then I changed tactics to staking out my part of the path and digging up an orange hole. Then I fished without success. After dinner I put in 3 more bananas, dug up two more orange places and caught a fine snook for supper. At the time I fished I was surprised at the immense quantity of finny representatives that circulated about the small wharf. Over 30 snook came by in one bunch. I singled out the largest and struck him. He was over 2 feet long and fought like a salmon. But just as I pulled him up and grabbed for him he flopped off. The rest vamosed. I struck into a school of over 200 angel fish and hit “nary,” but as I pulled in my grains a 4 foot fish with a forked tail looking like a king fish moved rapidly past. He was followed by several “jack” and another big school of angel fish. Then there was a rumpus along shore and the [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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little. I walked along after them but they disappeared. Then I mounted the small portion of the big wharf and just managed to take the last snook of the brood as they went through. He was struck fair amidships and didnt wiggle off. As I cleaned him—a 2 ½ pounder—the rain fell rapidly and washed me as well as the fish and then I delivered the morsel to Anna and went home. For supper we had Mr. Fish. —and as we had fish we held back on corn. Hereafter our sugar has been stopped and we will take our corn in the pure state as we hear nothing from the molasses. Everything tonight damp and fresh looking. There is a “nipping and eager air” of mosquitoes to night and we have had plenty of “bites” all day. I suppose in consequence of our previous freedom from them we now feel them so much. But they were as thick as they could be—for a beginning. They will improve as the weather dampens. The tin-pan concert of frogs has also begun. Last night the swamp was like a frog Babel and they kept up the racket long after we were abed.

P.G.C. Sunday June 4, 1876 Today we have had no rain but a southerly and southwesterly breeze has brought to us a perfect “load” of mosquitoes. They were as plenty and as eager for blood as they were last year in the rainy season. The “Santa Maria” is ready to sail and tomorrow Fred and I will put on board such letters as we can get finished tonight. I hope she will return with good news and plenty of letters soon. Fred and Anna have just made a call; and the mosquitoes tonight are fearful. Raw “tommies” for breakfast and pea beans for dinner were some of our Florida products. The first opportunity to send will greet you with more diary. Over 100 white curlew flew over the house tonight only 50 feet above it. They made quite a buzz. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Monday June 5, 1876

My dear Pa,

Again I recommence my diary. The preliminaries of the wet season are upon us. Mosquitoes and sand flies are on hand to torment, and a stray gallinipper or two have put in an appearance. Diary making is lively work. The torments must have their say and they put in their voices when least needed. At every period I stop to scratch and at the close of a paragraph I work over the entire form. Ben has placed the remains of Freddies old black hat in the seat of my pants and at that tender spot I am safe, but my ankles, neck and ears have to bear the full brunt of battle. And “sich is life” in the damp time. This morning Fred and I gathered our letters together and crossed to De Costers. The “jedge” was at Pine Level. The schooner is to leave tomorrow. We left our mail with Mrs. D.C. walked to the mill, found the molasses keg still there; got a striking pole, and coming back were caught in a shower. We rested under the lea of Lockharts house until it should let up and listened to Mr. and Mrs. L, singing as happily as clams and watched some fine looking chickens trying with poor success, to gather morsels of meat from a 5 foot sword fish that lay rotting under our feet and noses—almost. The rain stopped and we reached DeCosters, got a kettle of milk, took Nicodemus on board and rowed home. After dinner as the weather seemed favorable, although warm, Fred and I got our big hoes and started the rice patch. We finished up 1/3 of it and considered we had done well. Tomorrow we’ll try again. Other little odd jobs we worked in between. In fishing lost a fine snook that the grains wouldn’t hold. Gillis proposes to go home Saturday or Monday. We shall send letters by him. Another flock of curlew went over our heads today.

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P.G.C. Tuesday June 6, 1876 This morning the bay represents the usual “mirror like surface.” Not a ripple, nor the least semblance of a breeze, greeted us poor Punta Gorda Chicians until after dinner. At breakfast the thermometer registered 83° but how high it went afteward I don’t know. It was extremely warm however. Again Fred and I dug into the rice patch. Roots, grass and such matters we grubbed up and loosened the soil—as I did my ‘tater patch—leaving a flat surface well pulverised. It was hard work without a breeze. After dinner we did more and raked off what we had done. It is now about 2/3 done and we hope to finish and be ready to plant tomorrow. How many bushels will it yield think you? Or, how many pints? Rain came in fitful showers, the bulk of water dropping going elsewhere. A fine breeze blew from the west all afternoon and it changed twice to the eastward. Once we saw the “Santa Maria,” loaded, under sail, and—moving(!) But she stopped opposite Pepis shanty and there she is now. To night sand flies and mosquitoes are plenty and I must hurry and get under the bar. Struck a 2 lb angel fish, a 3 lb mullet, and a five pound snook today but the grains wouldn’t hold them. Tell that Fulton street fish hook seller that he can make pretty good trout flies but he can’t make a pair of grains. The ground is almost damp enough for “making potatoes” but we wont have vines until toward the end of the week. Then we shall have our hands full of a variety of planting—‘taters, bananas, oranges, lemons limes, guavas and citron and etc. If we could only plant a little tin kitchen and have it grow up during the rainy season, how happy we would all be. —And now to get rid of Florida pest—for a time. Bon nuit!

P.G.C.Wednesday June 7, 1876 Tempus fugits and the “Santa Maria” has actually gone.

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She hoisted mainsail at 1.30 and then drew up her curtailed gib and moved off toward Punta Gorda. We could see her deck covered with lumber as she labored onward. She will astonish the K.W. natives. Her foremast is 6 feet shorter than her mainmast as her original mainmast broke while undergoing repairs, and her two masts were changed the reduced mainmast becoming foremast. This movement shortens both gib and foresail and presents a peculiarly rigged vessel. You might call her a “morfydike” schooner. But, —she is off and we may look for letters next week. As the “Sainted Maria went west the “Bonne” came in running east and duly passed up river. She brought nothing for us. Fred and I took advantage of a cool day with plenty of breeze from the N.E. to dig into the rice patch expecting to finish. About 1/10 of it remains for an hour or two work tomorrow. Then our seeds will be deposited when the first soaking rain comes. Mosquitos have not been bothersome today only dropping in to tea and stopping all night with us. In addition to patch-work put a covering of surface soil on three “lemon beds.” A regular gale has been blowing from N.E. all day and still howls. No show for fish. Fred decapitated two “spring” chickens this afternoon and we shall have them “briled” tomorrow to celebrate the finish of the rice patch. Made a new graining pole this P.M. Fred says the “Santa Maria” as she left was a very fair photograph of De Coster! In working a lemon hole this afternoon dug up a small family of rattlesnakes—9 in number—5 inside of their eggs and 4 squirming with the shell attached to their little narratives. Quite a find! They were dissected and buried. Neuse has been hunting for a rabbit for nearly two years. This afternoon he found it. Should he find a couple at the same time we will have some cubed stew [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C.Thursday June 8, 1876 This morning the rice patch, 50 x 100, was finished and raked up ready for planting when the “water comes.” Fred hauled off about 10 loads of grass and weeds which went towards filling up the wind gully at the back of his house. The strong north easter has been blowing with great gusto all day and we trust that the “Santa Maria” is almost to Key West for she has been favored by Boreas. Not a mosquito was visable [sic] or whizzable to day and none are on the wing indoors tonight. The breeze is still blowing. Two more mounds for lemons are added to my list. Fred fishing a little and struck a 5 foot shark but was glad to find out the grains did not hold. Yesterday a 7 foot ‘gater lay on the beach. Fred shook hands with him by holding an old oar to his mouth. He crunched it like a piece of peppermint candy and tried to whisk it away with his tail. After a few moments pestering he up helm and tacked off to deep water. The spring chickens were delicious! And now we want more rain. The temperature is so low and the wind so high that our mounds are drying out and even we he-critters can’t get up any perspiration. Potato-vines increasing rapidly and the hills of last year remaining will furnish us with plenty of vines after all. One of Fred’s guavas is covered with blossoms and has commenced to form fruit. The mill now runs regularly and Pepis house looms up well opposite. It is half shingled and Mrs P.’s fire smoke is sometimes visable. [sic] This shanty as well as every one I saw up country—new—has a “jointed” roof like mine. Cracker flies disappearing, no frog concerts, and no mud=daubers, but a frog over a foot long with a head two inches across has taken up a residence in my well.—Perhaps, it is an alligator.

P.G.C.Friday June 9, 1876 Breezy from N.E. in morning and “steady by jerks” with much rain in afternoon. The soil is nearly soaked again but like a sponge it

Page 73 needs an immense quantity to fill to the running-over point. Tonight the festive mosquito sings his little song and calmness reigns. At 4 o’c this morning, before daylight appeared, Neuse set up a furious barking on the other side of the fence. As I got up, I heard Fred whistle and as I reached the back piazza, where the mosquitoes were passing the night, I received their bills on my bare extremities and saw the blast of Fred’s rifle. “What is it, Fred?” “A possum,” came in answer. And soon Fred was showing it to our nightgowned family, on his way to show it to his. It was a funny looking object, built on most peculiar model. It was covered with fur and hair, mixed; its head was foxy; its tail, with a twist on the end like a hook, hung on Fred’s finger—“even in death” —and was minus hair or wool; its feet were like monkey paws, with sharp scratches and its waterspout (!) was reversed and doubly pointed. When dissected we found it nearly all intestines within, its ribs extending only 1/8 down from the neck; its “gall” in the center of its liver and its heart in the throat. As it is Friday Anna bakes him and saves him for tomorrow. At noon the tide was high and having made a lemon mound and got out the six black stumps that supported the kitchen, I tried my new graining pole on the little wharf. Fish were plenty; tarpon, jack and snook—but they were too far off. After dinner I had better success. I struck a 2 ¾ lb angel fish and three snook and a 25 lb fish of some unknown nationality: The angel fish I landed, the others slipped off the grains.—but later on an eight pound snook with his gills and side cut floated ashore. I had struck him ½ an hour before and he was alive when I began to clean him. Therefore, we had fish for supper and some left over for breakfast. The angel fish

Page 74 was delicious and all six enjoyed the treat. For dinner, bean soup, corn and corn bread. For breakfast: corn, corn bread, and fresh laid eggs. Thus we fast on Friday—and every other day in a measure—corn measure. The triplets have retired, Ben is trying to make a pair of drawers out of a lot of rags I threw off last Saturday night, my boils are easy and reduced to three and I am writing—as you see. In a few moments all Punta Gorda Chica will be sleeping—unless Neuse should move us to more game—until “night shall draw her sable mantle up and pin it with the morning star.” (Ahem!) By the way Fred’s manilla [?] plant in front of his house seems about to run up a telegraph pole. Also, one of his oleanders—3 feet high and only a switch—has buds upon it. “Facts sir, facts” as Gradgrivel [?] says—at least I bedlieved it’s G. grivel.

P.G.C. Saturday June 10, 1876 The “monkey” was eaten at dinner time! At least when the possum came on the table it presented the appearance of one, with its tail describing several circles. The meat was fat, gamey and juicy, tasting like a good fat goose just inclined to turn. Fred and I took our share, Brenda eat hers and don’t want any more, Anna couldn’t go it at all and Freddie preferred corn, but Phip went at it with a relish and called for “More Poss’m, please Unk.” After dinner I struck a snook weighing 4 lbs and that gave us a relish for supper. Ben made biscuit and bread, as usual, with plenty of mosquitoes to make her energetic; and corn at three meals, and maccaroni and the “bread,” served us as betweenities. Our fish was seasoned with ground pimento—which is the original pepper—which Fred borrowed from De Coster and ground. Our other prepared black pepper is “gin cont.” On closer examination of Fred’s manilla find I was mistaken on the telegraph pole business. Fred commenced on his back path today and I on my front. One side of mine will [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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lime mounds and gutter is nearly finished. In a week or two I expect when I set out other trees to put 15 limes out on this walk as a border, with a second row to follow when I get the trees. No rain today fell in P.G.C. although it has fallen in every direction about us. We proposed putting in rice to day but thought we would wait until another rain came. Snook, jacks, red fish, trout, mullet, sailors choice sardines and shark perambulated about the big and little wharf to-day in considerable number. I struck a 5 foot shark on the nose and he travelled at the rate of 60 miles an hour for De Costers house. The grains did not hold, and I am rather glad of it. Out of doors the mosquitoes are thick tonight; within - doors few and far between. Is Grant still president, or has he run away, also? We know nothing of the outside world transpiring since Apl. 28. Is there any comfort, this warm weather, in being so ice-solated? By the way, I dreamt of the Colonel a few nights ago: he came to P.G.C. to levy on my chattels for the notes! I have been very joke-ose ever since.

P.G.C. Sunday June 11, 1876 Today we have lived under a canopy of clouds with a shower or two of rain for variety. It has been actually muggy and mosquitoes and gallinippers have held high carnival. Just before noon the “Santa Maria” came in, after tacking back and forth in the lower bay all the morning. She did not go up to De Coster’s, but steered for her old berth on Key’s beach. While at dinner I saw the “Bonne” coming slowly down the river. About 3 o’c Fred and I crossed over—for letters possibly—and to learn news. We found De Coster down in the mouth. The schooner had reached Cape Romano, but head winds struck her; her mast head broke and her sails came down splitting and tearing; then she began to leak so badly and head winds drove the breakers over her so heavily as to make [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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of provisions and her two men constantly at the pumps. Pepi turned about fixed up her rigging as best he could and came back. This failure of the second attempt to reach Key West has put D.C. hors du combats. His provisions are low down and he hardly knows what to do. He can see no other course than to build ways, drag the boat up and put a skin of ¾ boards on her bottom, then add new masts and overhaul her sails and send her again. This will take time. Tomorrow he will go to Ogden and see Joe Addison and try to charter the Bonne to take his lumber and bring provisions in return. He is afraid Joe will not make the arrangement to such. But he will try to make it satisfactory. As the “Bonne” was slowly approaching we made up the batch of letters again, and I wrote to Phillips to send letters and freight by first chance, and De Coster in his boat and Fred and I in Frou Frou went out and boarded her. Capt Gaviel did not know when he would come up our way again but he promised to let Phillips know when he had Addison’s freight on board so that he could bring freight for us too. And that is how we stand at present. Tomorrow or next day Gillis will start for home and I will send this diary draft by him. Let me know how long it takes to reach you. While I think of it let me advise you to send any important letters for us in duplicate by way of Pine Level. A letter from Minna came that way dated May 7 on Wednesday and which we got today. In it she acknowledges the receipt of our letters sent by you and George. To night there is very little wind and the “skeeters” are lively. Tomorrow we will plant rice—and perhaps commence our ‘taters. With love to all from all here I am ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Monday June 12, 1876

My dear Pa,

To “return to our muttons” rain is falling rapidly and our rice is all in. Fred and I together planted ½ a mile of it this morning and part of the afternoon and put in also six rows of millet for seed. The rain now falling has nicely packed it and in a day or two we shall look for its appearance above the surface. While waiting for dinner I planted my grains in a fine snook which weighed 5 ½ pounds. Trout, jacks, snook and shark sailed about the little wharf in the evening but sufficient for the day was the evil there of. We have us occasion to go to the “old wharf” yet awhile. The snook tasted deliciously for supper. Yesterday we got some fresh—very fresh—butter from Mrs. De Coster and it helped matters considerably. Five new and painful boils started last evening on my right hand and today I have been doing light work and doctoring them. There are so many rags on my hand that I can hardly write. Poor Job! Mosquitoes and gallinippers have been particularly healthy today. They swarmed in clouds at mealtimes and at all other times. Brenda fortunately adopted your suggestion and appeared at dinner in Turkish “panties.” After the meal as Fred and I were enjoying our post prandial the “laugh came in” from Anna when Brenda showed her improvements in pedal structure. At tea time Anna had rigged up duplicates of brown linen and female legs are banished from the gaze of the unfaithful at P.G.C. Now I want Brenda to put long pants on Freddie, Phip and the baby and I think we’ll get along nicely. Gillis did not come today but we expect him tomorrow. Last night—in my dreams—I visited the Centennial show and I am satisfied. Colyer [sic] of Marco has taken a schooner load of Florida trophies there to exhibit to sightseers. De Coster wants to go bad! He should

Page 78 go and take his schooner. It would be a sight for northern eyes. Somebody in Jacksonville, or some other north Florida city, advertises for a million bushels of guavas. D.C. thinks he could sell his 500 (?) bushels to that party for a thousand dollars. The rain is falling nicely still and I hope it will continue until morning. Orange and other trees looking well and ‘tater vines increasing rapidly.

P.G.C. Tuesday June 13, 1876 The fragrance of orange blossoms is said to be delightful. This we know by hearsay. The fragrance of a dead alligator—scarce three days slain—is on the contrary quite the reverse. Today a 7 foot gator has been manufacturing Lubin [?] extracts on my beach and the north wind brought him to our nostrils. Bah! The smell was fearful! How he got there I don’t know. About 50 buzzards occupied the pine trees on the shore most of the time. It has rained pretty much all day and almost all last night. Between showers we did some work however. I got in two more bananas in my patch, covered with mosquitoes as I did so: My boils prevented me doing more. With this part of my diary I send you a list of stores now on hand, which I asked Fred to furnish we thinking, perhaps, you would be anxious to know how we are situated in that aspect. During the day I struck four snook, 1 jack, 7 gar fish (for practice) and one 5 foot sword fish. The last named fish was the only one that did not get clear of the grains—the others (except 2 gar fish) I lost. Frogs croaking like mad tonight and an immense concert is underway in the upper head. The sun set grandly and an extremely bright rainbow was visable [sic] at the same time in the east with masses of clouds everywhere.

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P.G.C. Wednesday June 14, 1876 To day I commenced on Em’s favorite occupation—or at least that which pleases her (2v [?] to hear read about. ‘Tater hills were started on P.G.C. My hands troubled me much where any grubbing or pounding was to be done. I was so tired reading Siberian travels that I tried my hands at potato vines and hills—and also a little road making. In the course of the day therefor [sic] I put up some hills in front and near night planted 75 vines. My front path I also finished up for a considerable distance. Mosquitoes were lively but during perfect calms I took my stand on the “lower wharf” (the rows of posts we call the “old wharf” —the little one is several feet lower!) and fished. I caught a fine 4 lb. snook, and we feasted on his carcase at supper time. Rain fell not all day but rain clouds were all about us at times—with the wind from every point at different times. One of the prettiest effects I ever saw in clouds was visable [sic] this afternoon down the bay. One heavy storm with black clouds and falling rain shut out about half the bay to the left. Another jutted out from below Platts point of similar quality, but did not quite meet the other. The space between—a perfect oval cut out of the storm clouds was perfectly clear and presented the white fleecy clouds on a blue sky and the belt of shore line under neath . When the storm touched the water a line of white caps served to join each cloud with the other like a string—but beyond this calmness and quiet. It was a pretty glimpse of Florida framed in storm clouds and beautifully vignetted. This lasted for half an hour. In the eastern sky we had four different and brilliant rainbows just before sunset and our whole “cloudscape” today was worthy of the sign painter. Our alligator

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is all skin and bones today and less fragrant than usual. A small white schooner went down Bird Key channel to day and also a skiff—which latter I suppose contained De Coster, who has been up to Addisons. Tonight swarms of mosquitoes congregate outside our window screens and serenade us. Inside we have but a few. This year Fred’s house is unusually free of them, as the deacon takes pains to keep them out.

P.G.C.Thursday June 15, 1876 At sunrise this A.M. Gillis and the spasha pony came over in the lighter with John Lomond and George in the dingey. I sealed up a weeks diarrhoea and gave it to him to take to “Pinter Ross.” He immediately mounted and started for home expecting to reach it by noon. But won’t the mosquitoes have a meal “off him.” He brought us varied news items. De Coster succeeded with Addison in making arrangements to have the “Bonne” come in next trip, and several thereafter, to take a load of lumber in her hold for K.W. This will be good for us also as we can communicate with the world again. He also saw Weeks and he promised to rig the “Laura” and also take a lumber load providing Leiner and Driggers were willing. Weeks thought it would be satisfactory and he promised to be down today or tomorrow and load. This also will be good for us. Another item is that Lockhart has a raft ready which John Lomond has been engaged to bring over to our shore, with which Lockhart proposes to erect a shanty on the section adjoining ours. If he does I think he will be devoured by mosquitoes on the first night and we can lay claim to the lumber. Toward dusk the raft was visable [sic] approaching but it grounded on the bar and the boat attached left it there and went back. More mosquitoes and gallinippers and a nice shower after dinner. The millet is coming up.

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P.G.C. Friday June 16, 1876 I’m boiling over again. This time they have me by the ears. Three on one ear and two on the other slightly interfere with my sleeping maneuvers. I can’t rest on either side except by making a triangle of my arm and letting my ear into it. Last night I tried this plan and managed well. I suppose by being so much corn=fed and naturally full blooded my aristocratic blood gets turbid. I shall sent to Key West for some Epsom salts and take a dose or two, but I wish there was some other blood purifier handy in the damp season. If our “tommies” would only do well I think I could get along better, but as before they were too dry now they are too wet and the fruit comes but don’t ripen. Potatoes are in a state of betweenity and our only vegetables now are “persely” —and corn! My hand boils are better to day and nearly well and my leg boils are about to close up shutters; the ear boils being my only reliable stock in trade at present. They make business lively. All the mosquitoes in town stop there first to sharpen their bills. No rain has fallen today and the thermometer struck 92°. As there was very little wind, under boil and other circumstance there was little work performed. The heat of the sun was intense and made my head ache when exposed to it. Lockhart and John Lomond dropped in to see us at 3 o’c this afternoon. Lockhart was in a quandary. He had got his raft ashore just below the head in some mangroves and on looking inl [?] and found a mudhole where he expected to build his house. He came to us for advice. We sent him up to Camp Whiffle prospecting for a site and when they came back after ten, we further advised Lockhart to go home and “sleep on it” and come over with John in the morning. Then Fred would show the good points of land adjoining ours and he could either locate or let John take his raft back again. Ben man...[last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 82 he hardly knows what to do and it is a difficult matter to advise. During the afternoon we lengthened the big wharf 40 feet with some old braces and a board or two and I expect on this narrow path to be led to many snook and red fish. Tomorrow noon I’ll try my luck. So many big fish pass the “lower wharf” just out of shot that I propose heading them off in this way. To day I stood, “like Patience on a monument” looking for fish and struck only a 6 pound snook but my luck was bad and he shook himself free and left for up river. So we have no fish for Friday—but new laid eggs for breakfast (as) every Friday morning. Our dinner was corn, corncake and maccaroni. Italy and the Italy of America joining hands over the festive board. After this I suppose we shall drop eggs as the hens dont drop any any more. But they have done exceedingly well this season. We can afford to let them “lay up” for a time.

P.G.C. Saturday June 17, 1876 I have often wished for help during ‘tater time to enable me to get in the requisite quantity. At last fortune smiles upon me in this respect and I have received such help to day. Master Freddie has ‘put up” over 30 feet of potato hill and “planted out” 31 vines this evening. He made his hills, cut his vines and poked them in place all by himself. On Monday he proposes to do so some more. When his Aunty heard of it at tea time she said: “Why Freddie I really believe you have grown two inches since dinner.” After planting his vines he came in the house elated and catching sight of himself in the glass— which tilted over a little more than usual—he proudly exclaimed: “Papa, I believe Aunty was right after all for I am two inches taller! I could hardly see myself before and now

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I can see way down to my neck tie.” During the day I “put up” hills also, but not so rapidly as I could wish and this evening planted in them 136 vines. “Oh, these biles!” At 11 o’c I looked for fish on the extended wharf. No big fellows were out, but I grained two “sailors choice” and they gave us a taste at dinner. They are but little inferior to angel fish and their flesh is sweet. One contained roes, which tasted like crab. A fine shower dropped water over us this morning, but the day generally has been warm, sunny, and quite breezy. Mosquitoes tonight 10 to the cubic inch. At breakfast we noticed Lockhart crossing to his lumber raft, but he did not afterward come up to keep his appointment with Fred. I suppose he has commenced work in his mudhole. Several large flocks of duck went down the bay at dusk. Where bound? One egg in two days. Today has been a bright one for another member of the Howard family. Master Harry began his pedestrian tour. He walked eight feet without falling and was so elated that he kept up on short distances for half an hour afterward. I am afraid he will turn out, however, a snuff=taker. Everything he can get up his nose he puts there. Sometimes its sweet potato, then sand, biscuit, bread, buttons and in fact anything that can be “shoved.” What can we do about it? Fred has ditched the hen house and the kitchen and will potato- ise and plant trees next week. So will I. And now for my pill and then to=bed.

P.G.C. Sunday June 18, 1876 On taking up our latest dates of newspapers today I find the A.T. Stewart is dead and that the Centennial show will open, perhaps, on May 10. This solace and other similar items are all that I can find to satisfy my cravings. Sich is life!

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A lovely, sunny, breezy day without rain and with very few mosquitoes is our boon at this date. While Ben was at church I furnished a parcel of pea=beans and a four pound snook for dinner. This latter morsel Anna baked but a lack of black pepper and some other condiments did not improve its flavor. Hereafter we shall take our “snook” fried. As a result of my pill taking I suffered the usual agony and the result was unsatisfactory. Even a dose of seltzer failed to accomplish fully its purpose. Yet there is a fine, noticeable, improvement in the outside bile, however the inside bile boileth. Tonight I feel low down and weak with a sneaking tendency for the embraces of the drowsy god. Therefore I will close up scribbles and go to dreamland.

P.G.C. Monday June 19, 1876 Another dose of seltzer and a weakening of muscular fibre as a result keep me weak and in poor working order. I lay around loose, read a little, fish a little, work a little and fret a little. Time hangs heavy and mosquitoes are lively. On the elongated wharf I grain a mullet in “school” hours and also a snook. These I clean and Anna fries them for dinner. The mullet was not bad but rather “chippy.” Its flesh was hard and white but the December flavor was lacking. No rain came and the thermometer struck 90° at 9 o’c A.M. and did not get below it until 7 o’c P.M. It was warm, breezy and after a fashion enjoyable. Mosquitoes were not so plenty during the day and we scratch less. As I retire to bed I drop another mandrake and blue pill pellet down my throat and hope for better results tomorrow. The rice looks quite green and comes up finely. Fred has commenced on his orange trees and others to remove mulch and rake them over. I must wait.

P.G.C. Tuesday June 20, 1876 More warm weather without rain and plenty of mosquitoes to “worrit” one. My pill and seltzer do well. Tonight I am like a dish rag and dont feel as pert and chipper and sassy as “Little Breeches.”

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But I am not all gone. The boils are gradually leaving and only one troublesome fellow remains. No work again from me. Fred still weeds his oranges and fixes the mounds. He has gone over nearly all. I rest, record and fish. Try crab bait and catch a red fish who nearly pulls me overboard. He struggles so that the hook tears out and he is lost. I also strike at 2 over 3 feet long and fail to make an entry. Fish were plenty, snook, red fish, jack, mullet, angel fish, sailors choice, sardines and sharks with a fair sprinkling of stingrays. Fred struck a small fish—but he was not enough for dinner. Yesterday Freddie put up 15 feet more of potato hill and then I advised him to wait for more rain. He makes as good hills as I can. To day he has been trying to grain “killy=fish” with a sharpened stick. Phip has complained considerably today and I am afraid he is going to have another such an attack as he had last year. He is fretful and feverish and looking low down like. For three mornings we have given him elixer pes and hope the result will accord with our wishes. His constant cry is for “more mixer crow,” and water—the same old story. It is extremely warm tonight and mosquitoes are plenty therefore I will hie me to bed to “sarcumvent ‘em.” Shall we ever hear from home again? The rice is nearly two inches high. Wednesday. The “Santa Maria” has signalled that she will try the passage to Key West again. I hurriedly add a P.S. to say that Phip is all right again but fretful and Freddie ditto and the rest of us are well and “moving.” My boils are going also. Love to all. J.C. Howard

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor. Fla. Thursday June 22, 1876

My dear Pa,

I find that by the usual Florida forgetfulness of the proper day of the week that I jumped yesterday and made no note of it on the last bunch of items I sent you by the (almost) abandoned “Santa Maria.” This evening just before dusk the white flag was raised on De Costers wharf. I had a few moments to close my diary and take it over and dated my P.S.Wednesday. It should have been Thursday: the “Santa Maria” will sail “soon” in the morning and I hope she will reach Key West and return with letters and things safely. De Coster is about starved out and this sending of the schooner is his forlorn hope. I crossed the bay with a boat load of mosquitoes and brought them back. During the trip I had to wrap my coat about my feet to keep my legs safe. Yesterday we had a warm day and no rain except a slight sprinkle of a few moments. The water suddenly assumed its summer claret tinge in the bay and I tried to catch a fish but could not see any—in fact I could not see the bottom it was so thick in color. Today it looks the same, but about noon time I tried my luck and the only fish I saw—and that not plainly—was a big snook. I struck him and the grains held. He was a whopper” and he led me a pretty chase almost breaking my graining pole. I got him ashore and weighed him. My scales dont go only to 24 lbs. He pulled beyond it and probably weighed between 30 and 35 lbs. Dressed he weighed just 17 lbs. There was about a pound and a half of excellent roe—of finer flavor than any I ever tasted. This we had for supper. For dinner we had one of the chickens and Anna pickled the fish for future use.

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Ask Baggs what he thinks of our wharf fishing without a boat and non=interruption of grubbing and tree planting. We had another gentle shower this afternoon and I was afraid I should catch a whiff in crossing tonight but did not. I made several lime and lemon mounds as a commencement of work again. The ground was not excessively damp. Mosquitoes stuck today and fearful tonight. Lockhart has finally settled on the “clearing” just between us and the first wharf. He has commenced, I believe, to erect his house. De Coster is placing his guava trees largely. He says he has put out about 200:—this may be, perhaps, 20 or 30. He lately went to Ogden for provisions and paid $14. for flour— poor at that, and other things in proportion.

P.G.C. Friday, June 23, 1876 A fine shower with heavy thunder and lurid lightning flashes went over us this afternoon. It left the surface of P.G.C. nicely wet. The rice looked fresh and green and so di every thing else afterward. Fred transplanted a number of his rubber trees to the shore line and I made mounds and overhauled a number of my trees. All this morning the bay was like a mirror and at noon the “Santa Maria” —with the same load she started off with weeks ago and brought back, her masts weakened, her sails patched up and her deck and bottom in leaky condition—departed for Key West. She made her first mile in 2 hours but expects to do better than this! Towards dusk Gillis returned. He was delayed by cow hunting. All his cattle he left in the “pens” just above us; but had we any “pens” he would have brought them here to “brod” [?] our soil. Fred showed him our rice patch. He said that it looked fine and should yield us from 10 to 15 bushels. The grass like shoots now coming up will “sucker out” and [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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thus make additional stalks to hold the little grains on. Fred took Gillis over and returned before dark. G. was quite vexed at the sailing of the “Santa Maria” as De Coster promised to let the boat take a load of lumber to Fort Myers for him. Now Gillis will have to return home in 4 or 5 days and make arrangements for a vessel to come here and take it instead. Our molasses keg has arrived at Fort Winder! Will we ever see it again? For breakfast the snook furnished us with delicious fish cakes. To vary matters we had for dinner corn and corn=cake and maccaroni and for tea corn=cake and corn “straight.” Freddie mopes today and Phip is lively again. Ben “put in” a big wash and hung out quite a line of clean linen. During the heavy shower Phip and the army overcoat took a ride over to Fred’s on my back. The rest of the family went over before the big drops came, while our “walking doll” kept house in the hammock and dreamed of the future— perhaps. As the sun was setting we thought we distinguished a sail toward Punta Gorda, but were not certain. Let you know in the morning.

P.G.C. Saturday June 24, 1876 This mg. a white schooner is anchored opposite Keys old hut. It is a stranger. After breakfast another white schooner, which I recognise as the “Margaret” of Punta Rossa [sic], comes in and slowly passes up Bird Key Channel. Then we have a morning of calm with hot air and plenty of sunshine. Gillis comes over early and takes the pony and lighter back. He had’n’t curiosity enough to ask the name and purpose of the schooner. I put in for a few more potato hills and Freddie helps—also Phip. Towards noon a white flag is raised at De Costers. The white schooner starts and drifts up river with a man looking out from the topmast [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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skiff to be hailed and we learn that the schooner is from Bayport with a family to locate above us. She touched at Punta Rossa [sic] and brought letters for De Coster and us. I hurry through dinner, cross afterward with Nick in the broiling sun and get 37 letters from the outside world and about half as many papers. Your 4 letters to June 9, two from Mother three from Em, one from Bags with others from the same and other parties for Fred Anna and Brenda give us our first news from home since the 1st of May. We are all delighted at hearing and our delight is somewhat overcome by the news at home. It seems so hard that you should be working so, and that your prospects are so bad. I can bear my own trouble cheerfully but I wish it could be so ordained that you and Mother and Em could be kept clean. I am surprised to learn that Mrs. Reeve did not confer with you on the “silver” question. Brenda wrote very positively on that point and I can only excuse it, as she was making arrangements when you came to leave that same day for Hartford and thought best to delay, or did not have time to think about it. Brenda regrets it as well as I do. She makes no reference to the silver in her letters to Brenda. There is one point in your letter and in Georgg’s [sic] also that shows me that you both are in error in regard to the cause of the kitchen fire. One simple fact explodes your conclusions. Still I thought the same at first. But, on the day before the fire the ash=box was emptied at 3 o’c when Brenda cleared up her kitchen

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and if the ashes smouldered they must have done so on the “heap” back of the storehouse. Freddie carried it out and the box was empty, and brushed out with the general cleaning up given to the whole kitchen. No fire was made in the little shanty afterward until the big one carried it off. This box had been emptied nearly every day and Brenda had taken great care to see that no live coals were placed in it. Rats or cockroaches have been the culprits you may be sure, I can account for it in no other way. How in the world did you, with such little help as you have had; do so much about Elmlawn since your arrival? I can’t understand it at all. For heaven’s sake, Pa, dont overdo yourself. Still I am glad you have, successfully, accomplished so much. Since the fire I have been disabled pretty much all the time from boils, but I hope to get beyond them and make things spin before fall. At one time I had about 15 and they have been coming and going ever since. A little rain came this afternoon and there was a prospect of more, but the clouds blew over. This evening I planted 85 vines; Freddie 15 and Phip 5. The best potato season will not be here for 4 weeks yet. But I will put in a grand planting at the right time. What I plant now will furnish vines. To night the mosquitoes are fearful and the wire screens are black with them; yet few are indoors.

P.G.C. Sunday June 25, 1876 We have had today a lovely tropical day: warm but breezy with fewer mosquitoes.

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With my files of papers and letters to re-read I enjoyed indoor Florida life quite pleasingly. Brenda went to service at 11 o’c and I picked my modicum of pea=beans. Then I trimmed up the baby’s locks and brought up “the bay” in a pail for Phips bath. The rest of the day I read and took life quietly. One or two nice little showers came over us and the surface was wetted. The sunset was gorgeous and the usual concert of pests at the window screen is in full feather. Up among the rafters, also, I hear much humming and buzzing and singing and occasionally get a bite on one of my swollen ears. Sand flies drove Fred and Anna distracted yesterday and last night but none have troubled me to any extent indoors. Yesterday De Coster told me he was anxious to get a flock of sheep and go to sheep raising. What next? The rice is 5 inches high and the patch looks green and fresh. By the “Santa Maria” I sent to Cash for some more corn, some pimento (for pepper) some tobacco and some matches. I enclosed the money as I had it and I am not in debt to anyone yet. I hope I may not be compelled to draw on Cash, without cash, for any thing. Our pickled fish was a grand success: it makes a first rate relish for supper. Two chickens went headless to our dinner table. Two eggs were layed [sic] yesterday. Corn and rice keeps the hen’s dander up. I see by the “Sunday Times” that Lancaster’s “conscience” is troubling the Union Square Theatre. Another white sloop went up river today. Perhaps, another settler.

P.G.C. Monday, June 26, 1876 Fred finished up his tree culture to-day and I devoted a good part of my time to root pulling and potato planting. I had got about 45 feet finished of the latter work when we all noticed the white flag at De Costers dock signalling “beef.” It was almost dinner time [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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for my corn before crossing. The air was not at all chilly this morning the little mercury ball trying to touch 90° and almost succeeding and no wind to speak of. Phip crossed with me and I pulled perspiration out of every pore. Half way over I sighted 2 schooners, one coming in and the other coming down Bird Key channel. The latter was the “Mary” of Cedar Keys and the former I feared was the “Santa Maria.” At De Costers I found the “jedge” in a worry also, but trying to solace his low spirits with his poetical scribble just published in the Tampa Guardian. A good breeze from the west finally brought in Mrs. Schooner and all insisted that it was the “Bonny.” De Coster and I went out and boarded her. It was the “Cecilia” of Pensacola loaded with sash and blinds doors, cedar wells, and jumper shingles. They were for sale. Shingles at $5. Sashes (8 x 10) $2 per window and green blinds with all the fixings $2.50 to $3. I found Capt Mason a pleasant skipper and his craft a neat and serviceable one. She will touch at Punta Rassa on her return and I may send this letter by her. We swapped news and went ashore. Then I fortified myself with a glass of milk—Phip had two, and was as lively as a chicken—and took my beef and liver and rowed my small coxswain over, beating the schooner. We had our liver for supper and our appetites were satisfied for “onct.” As an item of news I may mention that the mill is down but will be remodeled and re=built tomorrow and this will be De Costers small centennial show for crackerdom. Mosquitoes? Oh, no!

P.G.C.Tuesday June 27, 1876 A cloudy day with little bursts of sunshine at long intervals, few mosquitoes and gentle winds. I overhauled 50 trees, pulled out weeds and grass, hoed them up; and [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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During the operation I disturbed any quantity of spiders, from ½ an inch to an inch and a half long in body and with legs sometimes covering from 3 to 4 inches of space, about a dozen centipedes 4 inches long and a rattlesnake (a wee mite—only 3 feet) Fred managed to unearth a brood of young rabbits in one of his mounds. I found my trees planted about the right depth but found also that during the dry season they had been kept too wet. Fred’s were ditto. Some look well and others rather sickly. A little fresh air and cultivation will bring them all right in a day or two. Freddie commenced his potato hills but gave up on the sixth foot. Phip stopped in doors and rocked, fretted and looked doleful. The infant Westen [?] laughed and trotted all over, got into all sorts of mischief and was several times caught with the dipper making for the water pail. He climbs into chairs and out of them, gets into bed and out and manages his feet and legs in the most approved style. He enjoys his walks immensely. Phip is a funny specimen. Think of a child crying for Elixir pes. Before going to bed he said; “Mamma, I be good boy, give me Mixer cro when I get up morrow.” and repeated the request almost crying for fear he would be refused. It is almost as bad with castor oil. I suppose he takes them because they are a species of drink. It is exceedingly warm tonight and mosquitoes are lively again. The[y] serenade us in grand style on the other side of the frames. Beef for breakfast and dinner—with corn—made acceptable meals. The rice needs rain. The black mill looks straw color today. And now De Coster talks of building a new house!

P.G.C. Wednesday June 28, 1876 Last night or early this morning I had a

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disagreeable attack of stomach cramps and the attendant complaint: diarrhea. I was eaten by mosquitoes and otherwise bothered. To-day I have been a limp rag and not fit for anything. Anna had a similar attack and we all imagined some thing wrong. Florida beef, I think, caused the trouble. But we have not hesitated to keep on eating it. Another hot day has been on hand to warm us. A very little rain fell, also. I finished overhauling my trees and they look now quite frisky. Fred has been making orange mounds and I believe, yesterday and today accomplish from a dozen to 15. The Cecilia went down with a good breeze, but I did not think it best to board her. Grass covers everything on P.G.C. Phip fretful, feverish and inclined to mope. Besides growing pale and thin as he did last year. Freddie holds his own, but looks cornfed and crackery. Harry is as lively as a cricket.

P.G.C. Thursday June 29, 1876 Early this morning I was “took” again. The same old cramps. I did not enjoy them. But they did not leave me so weak. As I sat up in bed ruminating Brenda called my attention to a brightness about Fred’s kitchen. I jumped out of bed and rushed to the window. The sky was dark everywhere, but just behind Fred’s kitchen it was lurid and fiery. I thought at first Fred’s little log box was going to follow mine. Smoke seemed curling up reflecting flames beneath. My heart jumped into my throat. I jumped for the piazza, banged my shins against the rocking chair and jumped into a swarm of mosquitoes and gallinippers. From the piazza I saw a sheet of white flame shoot up but it grew into shape and that shape was

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a fat crescent and lo! it was the meek moon slowly going to bed, and taking a last peep through a cloud rift. But it did look so much like a fire. I went back to bed scratching my pedal extremities and slept uneasily until sunrise. And—Having written so much in my diary Brenda startles me with the cry: “There’s smoke coming out of the front of Freds house, and two strange men are going in.” I have just rushed to the piazza as I did in the night and find the smoke coming from a camp fire just beyond Fred’s house, where a wagon and oxen are standing. I imagine Whidden has come and I’ll go over and see.— But this cry of “wolf” comes too often. Whidden is here. I have been over to Freds. Eely is with him. They came down to-day for lumber and tomorrow they’ll raft it over—or lighter it—and take half home, returning for the other half. They were surprised at the burning of my stores and kitchen. Whidden asked why I didn’t come up to his place, as he could let us have 5 or 6 bushels of potatoes to help us out. We all looked at the rice=patch. Whidden remarked: “It looks fine, has a good color and if yer have rain enough it will sucker out well and bear quite a plenty rice.” Whidden has planted an acre and a half. His corn yielded only half in crop 40 bushels. Too dry! His watermelons were a failure. He has not commenced potato hilling—not wet enough. Ely had and many of his vines died. Fred asked W. how his family were. “Able to be about,” he answered. They cook in the kitchen their evening meal and sleep in “your room” tonight. A real jolly rain has been dropping all the afternoon. —with the usual intervals (a good long one at supper time) It rains still and muttering thunder is heard in the distance in every direction. I should’n’t wonder if it made a night of it.

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P.G.C. Friday June 30, 1876 Rain fell this morning for a few minutes and nearly all the afternoon, but very little moisture in the ground followed. This afternoon I made an attempt at potato hilling but, the ground was barely wet. I wait for more water. Fred rowed Ely and Whidden across to De Costers before breakfast. As he left the wharf, where De Coster met them, Whidden began to talk to the judge and gradually dropped to his hunkies and took up an oyster shell and made sketches on the old wharf. Then, a few moments later, Ely dropped down and took another shell did the same and finally down came the “judge.” He grabbed a clamshell for variety and while all three dilligently [sic] applied themselves to sketching, Whidden’s dickering about lumber commenced. Fred got back in good season for breakfast. We learned from Whidden, last evening, that John Addison was going to run the “Prima Donna” in here on her next trip and regularly thereafter. I hope it will prove true information. Master Phip today, out of respect to his Uncle’s nervousness, has taken his evening meal alone at home. And baby Harry also is kept in the hammock. Poor little Phip is not well at all. His stomach machinery dont work at all and he is fretful and petulant naturally as a result. He will take his meals alone until he is able to feel better and then resume his high chair of state. Water pails and pitcher are hung sky high and with pap and gruel I hope his banishment will only last a few days. At sunset Mr. Whidden and Ely returned with 500 feet of lumber and at sunrise they will start for home. As no other opportunity offers I have concluded to send my diary by him and let it go to Fort Meyers and so to Punta Rassa and thence home. Brenda has [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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so as to go with mine. I can’t say when this will reach you but I hope before Christmas! And now for a word or two to end with. Brenda was very much disappointed in her home letters at receiving no word from her Mother concerning the silver. She had written positively, without any “ifs.” to have the silver sold and the proceeds devoted to our welfare. She naturally hoped that in the event of its not being disposed of that something better might happen—but that she did not write. I believe I did—to you. She told her mother to confer with you, as your judgement [sic] in the matter she could rely upon. She will write again in a few days repeating what she wrote before. We have together tried to figure up the values and make the original cost come to some where between $600 and $650. Perhaps they would bring only ½ that. Brenda has an idea that you imagine there is $1.500 worth or thereabouts. Should you be asked, as you may be, to take charge of it and turn it into cash, call upon Blanchard Dominick (I believe it is Blanchard) who is a manufacturer of silverware. Any of the Domincks can tell you where be is. He, I think, will give the best price, and tell you where to get it. How I hate to bother you with this sort of business you have no idea! Would you advise me, instead, to ask a loan of $500, payable in 2 or 3 years, of Uncle John—giving him an idea of our life here and its prospects and written concisely and to the point? Or: would you leave that until nothing else is left. Let me know what you think. Did he not, at one time, ask similar help of you? Of course I should not use such a lever, but I would like to know. With much love to all Ever etc. Jarvee. Fred intended to write but concluded to wait and send in schooner.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor July 1, 1876

My dear Pa,

At daylight this morning I jumped out of my nest, made a package of some letters and started over to Whidden’s camp. The mosquitoes were 20 to the cubic foot along the shore, but only about 10 in the neighborhood of his camp fire. As the sun came up he (W.) placed the last board on his skeleton wagon and in the water where his raft stood mullet in large masses were sporting and flopping. His oxen were tied to the trees and were surrounded by “guard flies,” as Whidden called them—about the size of cracker flies (or horse flies) with yellow and black stripes about their bodies. These flies are more useful than any I have yet discovered. According to Whidden, they buzz about cattle solely intent on preying upon mosquitoes, flies and other pests that “worrit” the four footed “critters.” I gave Whidden my package which he will take home, give to some passing “solitary horseman” who is bound for Fort Meyers and from that place forward to Punta Rossa [sic] and so on to their destination. Whidden and Ely prepared breakfast. Searching in his saddle bags he brought out a junk of pork (cooked) a bottle of butter and some “bread” (biscuit). Then sitting down on the wet grass, a log was pushed forward for me to sit upon, and he took his little tin cup of coffee from the fire, gave it a dab of cold water and asked me to join him. I excused myself. He and Ely “et.” Among other items Ely mentioned that he had seen 27 deer in comin, down from home. One he shot but the deer was only wounded. I got some good points about potato planting and also sugar cane, rice and such things. Ely broke in with “T’other day I was ‘er walking along and I see a old coon fast asleep under a permeter bush on his back with his hands over his face. I picked me up a pine knot and I crep up and crep up and c-r-e-p up, and

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I hit him over the head—and killed him dead. He never knew what hurt him!” This “anecdote” came upon me so sudden-like that I am afraid I did not appreciate it as fully as I might. While digging for butter, in the upturned bottle, with his pen knife Whidden said that they had plenty of milk and butter now at his place. “We milk about 3 pecks every mornin’, and leave hef of it for the cawes. We hev about 22 or 23 cows in ter the pens every night” At breakfast time—ours—the double yoke of steers pulled the load out to the woods and Whidden and Ely departed—to return again next week. Hilling mounds was in order today. For dinner I caught with grains a snook and a perch and that helped us out. A good down fall of rains came after supper, accompanied by wind lightning and long reverberating thunder. All the potatoes I planted are doing well. Before the rain Fred set out 7 orange trees. For the past 3 or 4 days mullet have been running in schools almost as plenty as during the mullet season. They taste pretty good, but there are many fish I prefer. The perch we had today was delicious. Phip eat three good meals today, fretted less and seems mending. He takes his solitary meals on the front or back piazza, but sometimes with company if we can get his meal ready before the bell rings. He likes the novelty. While we leave him at home all water is hidden or put where he can’t reach it. Harry Landon don’t creep any more. He walks instead. Another pair of shoes added to the list to look forward to at periodical intervals.

P.G.C. Sunday July 2, 1876 The “Bonne” came in this afternoon but brought only the “Sunday Times“ and a weeks file of the “Sun” to June 15. The “Santa Maria” had not reached Key West when she left. A package of letters and papers was at Phillips house but he [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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they were not put on board. Neither were the boxes. Patience is one of the grandest of Florida virtues. The last of our smoked beef was eaten at breakfast and a mullet came in handy for dinner. Two other fish I lost as usual. Two thirds of the fish I strike generally go their own way instead of mine. Besides this is mean enough when the water is so black and muddy that it is hard work to get even a glimpse of the fish to strike. Lovely weather has been troubling P.G.C. nearly all day. A cloudy sky came after dinner and thunder clouds played circus all about us. Tonight the festive mosquito ventilates his mellow notes and the crickets keep them company.

P.G.C. Monday July 3, 1876 P.G.C. was a busy spot this morning. Fred put up 80 feet of potato hill. I added a hundred to mine and Freddie put in half a dozen. This evening we added the vines. A delightful breeze blew briskly all day and we were not troubled by mosquitoes. In the afternoon Fred and I went to the mounds and prepared some 4th of July also. Tomorrow Fred will raise the large flag and I the small one. He will set out 2 centennial trees and I one for each of the original states. He will plant oranges and I border my front path with 13 limes. At dusk tonight the white flag waved over De Costers wharf. A small sloop had arrived during the afternoon and is anchored off Pepe’s new house. It may signal “beef,” this flag—or it may be letters and freight. However, the tide was so low that we would have to drag the boat 50 feet over the mud and therefore Fred and I will go over the first thing in the morning to see “what’s up.” Yesterday we were told that the “Bonne” was going to lay up for a week and paint—before going out would drop down to the mill for a “hold load” of lumber. There are no mosquitoes indoors tonight [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Tuesday July 4, 1876 The signal at De Coster’s must have been a mistake. Nothing of the kind visable [sic] this morning. At sunrise Fred raises the big flag in his big pine on the left of his path and I hang out the boat-flag on the front piazza. Then we go over to breakfast and take our bacon and corn. As we come out and light our pipes the little sloop raises her sails and just as we are preparing to cross to De Coster’s, she heads for us, tacks a few times and drops anchor and jib in the channel opposite. Fred and I always ready for freight or news, slide “Frou Frou” down the ways and soon row out. “Walk aboard, gentlemen,” salutes one of the three strangers: “Doug. tie up the gentleman’s boat.” We greet with a “How are you?” and ask where from. “Apalachicola and trading.” Corn at $1.50 per bushel, bacon @ 15 cents, onions @ 75 cents per peck, flour @ $14. and very little sugar @ 7 lb. for a dollar. The captain we find is a Williamsburgh man. We purchase 15 lbs bacon, 7 lbs. sugar and two 30 cent straw hats and pay for them. As we place our purchases in the boat a sail appears around Punta Gorda and we row ashore with a “Sail ho!” and look out with glasses for a nearer view. The sloop weighs anchor and goes up river. The wind is ahead and strong but by noon the “Santa Maria” drops anchor off De Costers and we see by the signs of freight that she has been to Key West and returned. As it is only ½ past 11 we take Phip jump into the boat again and start across. A squall catches us, we are soaked and turn back. Then we wait until after dinner. Our 4th of July is given at 1 o’c: Chicken stew, sweet potatoes, pea beans, corn, coffee and tum tiddleum tarts. We have a “full” of each for the first time in weeks and in fact taste our fist potato in a month or more. Then fair weather ensues and we go over—without Phip: We find a bag of corn

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some tobacco, some matches and some pimento and letters to June 23. but no boxes pork or flour. The “Sun” file is there and this and other papers and letters give us our 4th of July treat. De Coster gets corn and other commodities. He also has galvanized spikes and nails to fix up the “Santa Maria” and 6 pounds of nails galvanized which I ordered for our new skiff 2 months ago. George’s letter of 23d June says “flour, pork and other “notions.” are on the way to the land of pure delay,” but although the schooner left on Sunday we have us freight. Brenda gets a second bill of lading for the 3rd box. It is so handy here! Mr. Phillips receiving us notification of our goods, they are thrown in store and we wait! Pleasant when short of rations. Your liking to my P.L. letter pleases me. I wrote it only for your benefit, had I supposed it could be made serviceable I should have taken more pains, more notes and some sketches. As it is now I am afraid without any outlines I could not illustrate it with any variety. I’ll try, however, the first opportunity. Next winter I propose, if possible, to take a week’s hunt with Whidden visit the Indian mounds, be prepared with paper, pencil, and notebook and get up as elaborate an article as I can. I think I could, with your help, and some added pictures make a saleable paper. I forgot to mention when I wrote last that I received your V. It gave us bacon for 4th of July and other necessaries. Besides I have some yet left. During a heavy fall of rain before supper I had an opportunity to read letters and get news digested. After tea Fred set out his centennial trees 2 oranges, with the stars and stripes waving and Anna fired the salute with her revolver. I also sat out my 13 limes, with colors flying and

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Brenda, Freddie and I fixed our salute down the front path and hauled down the flag as the sun went down. Anna, wrapped in the stars and stripes, and Fred also on hand, with a peck or two of sand flies enlivened the scene. Then we parted, retired to get away from mosquitoes and sich and in due time prepared for rest.

P.G.C. Wednesday July 5, 1876 More rain came today: quite a small deluge. Fred increased his potato hills to 80 feet more and I about the same. We got in our vines and all went well. Fred also “planted out” 7 orange trees and did some digging. I got 4 guava mounds ready and did considerable rooting. The rice looks well and the little trees begin to freshen up a bit. Our new bacon is very “piggy” and very peculiar. Still, it slips down well. Phip commenced his meals again at Fred’s. He is much better and we will try to keep him so. One of the most beautiful sunsets of the season was visable [sic] this evening.

P.G.C. Thursday July 6, 1876 Freds work yields him an added 90 feet of potato hill. I get in 120. Fred now has ½ as much as he put up all last season and I have about 1/3 of what I did. And the work will go bravely on. This for morning work. Between showers in afternoon made lemon holes and set out trees. Fred got out another 7 and I four oranges. No wood doves yet. The quail anre still nesting. In a few weeks we shall look out for our traps. Mosquitoes and gallinippers lively. 7 or 8 watermelon are ripening on Fred’s vines. Mine show no fruit as yet. At sunset rain, sunshine, and rainbow. Then dampness [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Friday July 7, 1876 Rain has fallen all the afternoon, with periodical flashes of lightning and deep rolling thunder. At one time an unexpected crash and flash at the same instant made my blood tingle to my finger tips as I was hunting after potato vines. Every thing looks fresh and green and the new ‘tater vines show up well. During the morning the air was not too warm, the sun kept under clouds most of the time and the cooling breeze kept the mosquitoes down. Fred put up about 150 feet of potatoes and I only about 100. Fred already has quite a nice patch on the left of his front path as you approach the shore. We both intended to do some hole building this afternoon but the weather would not permit. Freddie Phip and the baby made things lively indoors during the rain. We found no trouble in making connections with our meals. In reading the papers I see that Bradford Blanchard has bought Daniel Websters place for $5.520 cash. Is this our Brad? I also notice the the [sic] “unwashed” Jobson has died in great poverty; and Hayes is expected to succeed Grant—if the “great unknown” don’t circumvent him. Who is the “g.u?” Referring to George’s letter again I see he states: “Pa brought your box of books up home.” Did you get one or two boxes: My books were enclosed in two boxes exactly alike. If you have only got one write to Anderson “imejently” for the other. It still rains this evening but not very hard.

P.G.C. Saturday July 8, 1876 I might quote potatoes to day as being “lively.” Fred put up about 200 feet and planted a hundred vines. I got up 160 feet (doing tree work in afternoon) and planted a hundred vines also and Freddie got his 20 feet and 15 vines in growing order. Fred [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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[first line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] to Em; she always likes to hear of the ‘tater rush. Rain threatened at various times but none fell. We had our nigger bacon for breakfast and dinner and also our corn making a “hog and hominy” day of it. Mosquitoes less plenty than sand flies. These latter were many and disagreeable to a considerable extent. The day was what George calls a “glass kane” one. We had very little wind and yet it was not excessively warm. Sunshine and clouds divided the hours. Ben has just scrubbed the children and without lighting the lamp we propose turning in at dusk. Good eve-nin!

P.G.C.Sunday July 9, 1876 A general variety-day: “glass kane,” ripples, waves, sunshine, clouds and up to the present (2 o’c) no rain. While waiting for dinner I copied De Coster’s 2 column letter in the Tampa Guardian of June 10. It is punctuatum et literatum. I thought it might afford you and George some pleasure to read it. Yesterday Fred got out some guavas and tomorrow I shall get out also a few trees. Potato vines are so scarce that we will both have to hold up on potatoes and go to work on trees and let the vines increase. So far Fred must have in about 500 and I a 1000. We have nearly two months yet to plant. Our best show will be in August. The rice still does well. Some day this week we shall hoe it and then let it sucker out and increase to a harvest of “yaller” grain. We take another hen for dinner, with “pusley,” corn and— ‘taters, and settle all with a smoke of hay tobacco. Evening:—The afternoon has passed pleasantly and the children are undressing for bed. We have all taken our corn and bread and washed it down with tea. About 3 o’c a small schooner stopped at Waldrons and the smoke of a camp fire is curling upward. I cut Fred’s hair and he mine. The sun is setting gorgeously and no rain has fallen today. We have rested today and tomorrow we work. And thus endeth the day.

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Charlotte Harbor, Fla. May 14, 1876

Editor of the Tampa Guardian,

Dear Sir, a short time ago I wrote a brief article for your valuable paper, hoping that it would meet the gaze of the scores who have written me for information in regard to this place and that it might prove satisfactory. But instead of satisfying those for whom it was intended it has been the means of my receiving a great number of letters from all points of the U.S. and Canada, these showing the large circulation of your paper. The numberless questions asked prove that great interest is felt in our sunny clime. Since writing my last article I have received over a hundred letters in regard to it, and in each letter there was a hundred or less questions. Now if I should sit down to answer each of those letters at length it would consume a great deal of my time; yes I could easily spend all my time in answering letters and giving information in regard to South Florida. But in this letter I will answer some of the numerous questions as correctly as possible. Having now lived here over thirteen years and having been a close observer, I feel competent of giving correct information as to climate, healthfulness, political condition of the state, as well as to its agricultural resources etc. I am fully satisfied from experience that Northern people will not find the heat here oppressive in summer and that there is no danger in exchanging from a Northern climate to this any month in the year, and remaining here working in the open air throughout the year: I speak from experience and observation. I was born in Maine, near the Canada line, and lived there for 24 years, when the tide of war drifted me upon the Gulf coast. I left N.Y. on the 12th of January 1863, it was bitter cold, with the heaviest clothing could not keep warm, and in less than five days time was landed in Key West amidst birds and flowers, the change in that brief space of time was so truly wonderful as to almost delude me with the belief that I was in a fairy land, and I was not long in deciding that I should never spend another winter in the regions of snow and ice. When I left the North my health was very poor, could hardly walk a hundred yards without resting, but from the day I arrived in Florida my health began to improve, and I felt that a new lease of life had been given me, and am now and have ever since my arrival enjoyed a

Page 108 fair degree of health. We have a family of four children, and neither of them has ever had a fever or any kind of serious sickness. It is true there are some places back from the bay in low marshy sections where chill and fever prevail during certain seasons of the year, but of a very mild form and yields readily to medical treatment. But never have I known a case to originate on the bay. And now as regards this particular locality for general farming, fruit raising etc. I will give as correct information as possible. This is comparatively a newly settled place, until within the past ten years, but little attention has been paid to farming; stock raising has been the principle business and pays largely. But during the past ten years some little attention has been paid to farming; and I have seen as fine corn, sweet potatoes, sugar cane and rice grown here as I ever saw in the States. Nearly everyone is now engaged in raising oranges, lemons, limes, and other tropical fruits, which are a decided success here. There has not been a day during the past year that we could not gather ripe guavas from our orchard, and no finer fruit is raised in the South, they fully take the place of the apple north, are a much surer crop, they are good raw, make a splendid pie or sauce, and as for guava jelly and marmalade I need not speak as most people are acquainted with those delicious articles. The tree bears in two years from the seed and can be raised upon the poorest soils, and almost without care and attention. Too much can not be said in praise of this delicious fruit, which in my opinion can be made far more profitable than the orange or any other tropical fruit by establishing a factory for putting up jelly and Marmalade, which always command a high price North. I think I am safe in saying that a thousand bushels per acre can be raised here, and in a few years the seeds become scattered and they spring up all over the place, and through the woods in close proximity to it. I have no doubt of our having the thousand plants on, and around our place, they can be made profitable for the raising and fattening of swine. But I think I have said enough to convince the most skeptical, that the raising of guavas can be made profitable. The African tamarind, the mane--- [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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-apple, the sugar-apple and cocoanut at all at home here, and cannot do better in their native wilds; and in fact all the tropical and semi-tropical fruit I have ever seen tried here, succeed. There are also some other valuable and pleasant locations for settlements, not far from the Bay. Fort Ogden, about fifteen miles up Peace Creek, is attracting considerable attention, and is as good a locality for the raising of oranges, as there is in the state. Judge King has as fine a young grove, as I ever saw, just coming into full bearing; and any one wishing for information in regard to said place, will do well to correspond with him, as they will find him a courteous gentleman and willing to give information to those desiring to locate. Pine Level, our county seat, about twenty miles from here is also a lovely place, and there is some of the best hammock land in the State, in its vicinity. Mr. E.O. Morgan has a few acres cleared in one of them, and raises as fine vegetables as the market can produce. About the first of April I had the pleasure of spending a few days with him and his estimable lady and was regaled with green corn and other vegetables. Only think of it; ye denizens of the cold bleak North. Green corn, cucumbers, egg plants, tomattoes [sic] etc, almost in midwinter. Capt Bartholf, our esteemed county clerk, lives there and will take pleasure in giving any desired information in regard to said place. In a former article I told you all about the excellent hunting and fishing around Charlotte Harbor. This is truly the sportsman’s Paradise. I also told you about the vast quantities of yellow pine and cypress, and what could be accomplished by establishing a shop for manufacturing furniture, doors, sash, blinds, sugar-boxes syrup and fish barrel etc etc. There [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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[First line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] in this section of the country that it is hard to tell which would pay best. It is to be hoped that the railroad from Lake Monroe to this place will shortly be completed. Which will open up a large section of country and arouse us all to new life and industry. A Mr. McDonald from Millenville was through this section of country a short time ago looking out a route for a stage line, and I hear he intends to establish one, from Mellonville to this place the coming fall; and parties are already arranging to build a hotel here in view of that event. And now in regard to the political status of Florida. I think it will compare favorably with any state in the Union. Life and property are as safe in South Fla. as in any part of the U. S. The people are hospitable and generous, always ready and willing to entertain strangers and give them the best they have. There are, it is true a few large stock raisers, who do not favor Immigration. They fear that they will settle up the range and thus prove detrimental to their interest. And now to this beautiful and sunny clime, we invite the citizens of the North. If you are tired of contending with the fierce winds and drifting snows for one half of the year, “come where you can sit under your vine and fig tree with none to molest, or make afraid,” and gather in the golden harvest of oranges, lemmons [sic] , limes and other tropical fruits. Come to this genial clime, where the mocking birds lulls you to sleep every night and wake you each morning with its sweetest songs. N.H. De Coster

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Monday July 10, 1876

My dear Pa,

With the chance of some opportunity to send items northward I sealed up my “diaree” and got it in readiness to go. Therefore I commence anew. To day we had a warm day with plenty of sunshine and the usual variety of clouds and a gorgeous sunset but no rain. Fred dug into ‘taters and I into guava, lime, and orange hills. Fred put up 120 feet during the morning. After dinner, with the intense rays of a tropical sun beating into our craniums, we took our hoes, Fred and I, and weeded the rice patch. We managed to accomplish the entire field in a little less than two hours and retired to the cool shade of Freds sitting room wet from head to foot. It was rather monotonous work. The rice is a foot high, a bright green and will look better with a little rain. The hot sun soon dried up all weeds and grass that we cut up. In the evening I killed a 3 foot spreading adder. In his rage the snakes head would spread like a pair of scissors. The head was rather small with small nostrils. Running from the point of his upper jaw were two bones, pivoted on the no[s]tril tip. Where the ears would natural be the two bones at rest would be, perhaps, an inch apart. In anger these would spread the skin to two inches, back and forth, the shape of the bones being visable [sic] through the skin. The snake was marked like a rattler and thick in proportion to length with a round blunt tail. It was a novelty to me and was sunning itself in the front path as I came along after supper. The whole family must have passed within a foot of him.

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P.G.C.Tuesday July 11, 1876 More warm weather, with a comfortable breeze at times, but no rain. Another magnificent sunset was painted on the western sky for our benefit after supper. Mosquitoes did not trouble us much as we sat on the front piazza and watched it increase in brilliancy and gradually fade away—but afterward they came in millions and howled at the frames to be allowed to enter. Fred got up another 120 feet of potatoes and I increased lemon and guava hills. The vines for hilling are very few and when I begin again I want to have plenty. The “Santa Maria” hoisted sails and passed up to the mill today. When she is going we shall try to find out tomorrow. The last of the maccaroni [sic] eaten today. Yesterday Anna put us on a short allowance of sugar in coffee: In fact “we took no sugar in our’n!” To day we returned to half allowance, instead, for a week or so. Lockhart still goes back and forth, nearly every day, to his plantation just below us. In these mosquito times, I think, he shows much pluck. For the past three or four days I have tried to spear a fish, but the water is so black and muddy that I have given up the business for the present. Mullet scarce again. Phip and Freddie all right again. It was not worms, this time, that troubled “Bown Fip.”

P.G.C. Wednesday July 12, 1876 At last the rainy season has given us rain. It came at noon time and about 3 o’c poured. The rice freshened up and the ‘tater vines looked frisky. Freddie was the only one who worked at potato hilling today. He got up 20 feet and put in 15 vines after supper. Fred and I dug holes and mounded. Just after breakfast the “Laura” hove in

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sight around Coon Key. But she grounded on the bar opposite and stuck fast. I wrote a couple of hurried letters, one to Phillips and one to Cash for 50 lbs rice and then Fred and I launched Frou Frou and rowed out. We passed through a large school of tarpon disporting like small porpoises and reached the schooner. Three very poor sailors were on board. They came down for a hunt after “bar” on Punta Gorda and invited Fred and me to join them. We helped haul the boat off the bar and they went off rejoicing. The news items we raked up are as follows: First, the “Laura” is to be sold at auction at Ogden on August 1st. Driggers will bid $600 and will probably get her. Then she will resume trips to Key West and back. In fact, the boat was expected to go the latter part of this week. The “Bonne” starts for Key West tomorrow with cattle from up river, but it is not certain that she will come back here on her next trip. Later she may. At any time, however, she will run in when assured of $20 worth of freight for Peace Creek. This was all. The “Santa Maria” I think will go to Punta Rassa with lumber for Gillis and return. Tomorrow Fred and I will take some corn over to be ground and try to find out. Besides the little white schooner at the Waldron place has excited our curiosity and we want to “know, you know” whats up. At the same time I will try to bring back a dozen guava trees to plant in my guava mounds. Musky=toes are very sprightly this evenin! Fred planted some guiven [?] corn today. His cassava looks excellent. Okra fine. Tomatoes give green fruit but do not reach ripeness. Occasionally, [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Thursday July 13, 1876 We have just had breakfast and Fred and I propose to take Phip and Master Fred and cross over in a few minutes. The “Bonne” is expected today. The “Santa Maria” is ready to go somewhere and the “Laura” is below going nowhere. There may be a chance to send and I take my diaree [sic] with me. The day opens warm and yet the yesterdays dampness makes the air crispy and a just rising breeze adds comfort.

At De Costers This afternoon the “Santa Maria” goes to Punta Rossa [sic] and Fort Meyers. Mr. De Coster goes with her. He will take all letters and post them at Punta Rossa.[sic] The “Bonne” is expected to day. A Mr. Rowan from Bayport is now occupying the Waldron place. This is the secret of the little white schooner. Mr. R. wants to settle and is looking up Mr. Waldron to try and buy his place. Lockhart’s house shows up opposite and he has just gone over to work. Mrs. D.C. has just given us all a glass of milk. It goes down well. I have just, also, raked up a dozen young guavas to plant on my return. We have just, also, received ½ a dozen sicily lemons from Mr D.C. which we shall “milk” and save seeds. The lemons look fine and smell sour. The bay is like a mirror at present and we are using up a morning waiting for a bushel of corn to be ground. We are all well, a trifle hungry at times, but still feeling first rate. If we can only get our freight from Key West we shall get along swimmingly. If we don’t we can manage on very short rations to exist. With love to all Ever etc. Jarvee.

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“Punta Gorda Checker.” Charlotte Harbor Fla. Friday July 14, 1876

My dear Pa,

Simon may say “thumbs up” but the world says: “wig-wag.” In these “crying times” when Nature’s diaper is almost constantly dripping we still “wig-wag” along the by way“ of time. It is at the present jotting (4 o’c PM) raining. It has been pouring. Huge puddles of water stand in low places and the festive gallinipper is seeking whom he may gobble up. The shrill-wind gray back nips in quietly and a new arrival, a black mosquito takes his bite and then sings his triumphal song as he carries slowly his blood bag (filled to quietly ponder and digest the contents. We have “corned” today without much variety. Corn bread corn and coffee gave us breakfast and the same with added “pusley” greens served us for dinner. This evening we shall ditto—minus greens. And this we “wig- wag.” Yesterday the “Santa Maria” departed for “Pinter Ross.” De Coster went to try and dispose of some lumber. Home and Key West letters went also. Fred and I and the two youngsters came back from the mill at noon and we brought ½ a dozen lemons and a pear guava (which I quietly appropriated for seed), also some milk and our lime. To day Fred and I planted the guava seeds, his half yielding 49 and mine 40 seeds. We also put in some prune pits, sapadillo, tamarind and date seeds. On my return yesterday I mounded 8 guava holes and “sot out” that number of trees. They are head and tail up like a cat bird today. A heavy rain which lasted all afternoon prevented me putting in the other 4 and I had to plant them in a penny nursery under the window of our room. I will transfer them at leisure.

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The trading sloop came down at dusk and anchored inside the channel line on our side and this morning departed without calling. To day 5 sails were visable [sic] in the harbor. The “Laura” returned this morning and afternoon. She made a day of it and the captain can now tell where every mudbank lies in the Peace Creek entrance. Just after sunrise Gillis came over, with the De Coster mustang that failed to carry Fred to Manatee, and left for home. The “best horse in Manatee County,” price $160, is being “worked out” by John Lomond. This brawny nig, I suspect, will “work out” the mill next. By the way, the mill is in better condition than ever before. It actually looks like a business building. The boiler and machinery—even the well—are boxed in and Gillis says he can keep moderately dry in wet weather. Cash is cook and feeds the large following there. If he can cook as fast as he can talk he must be a valuable acquisition. Holes! holes!! holes!!! has been the burden of labor today. I have been digging at a good rate and have many places ready for trees—after raising the necessary mound. While making guava mounds I saw mosquitoes actually 20 to the square inch congregating on my pantaloons below the knee. They were very earnest little fellows, but only bothered me when I reached for roots. Next week we go at ‘tater hilling again. Last night Freddie got in 15 vines, the result of his days labor. His vines and hills look as well as mine. In sweet potato culture we have learned the following rules: Make hills in very damp state of soil, put in plenty of grass for manure, (They must not be too richly manured other wise.) Make medium sized

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hills and use surface soil only. Then plant vines with a vigorous growth and well developed budd [sic], the vine tender they are the better. Have the vines 1 ½ feet long and plant three far apart. Shoot them in deep without breaking the vine and leaving one or both ends protruding. Do this at evening or before or during a rain. Then afterward, rake the hill sides free of weeds and grass and never let a vine take root. It should draw all sustenance from the parent stems. The roots proper will start from the bend in the vine, low down, and on these roots potatoes form. When ripe the vines will wither slightly. Then dig or keep as you wish. Hills too highly manured give more vines than tubers. Well pulverized soil on a basis of green grass gives best crops. And therefore do we try to do. We hope to succeed. If we don’t we’ll try’em another way. This afternoon, after the storm, I set out four orange trees of rather dilapidated form and of shaky appearance. They were the last of the “Clarkies” and I took the chance of their living. The mosquitoes were awful and I had to let them bite without scratching, until I could rush indoors and scrape the mud off my hands. This evening the sky is full of light clouds and the sun goes down in obscurity. The frogs sing “big” and all windows and doors have to be kept closed against the reigning pest. We shall retire early.

P.G.C. Saturday July 15, 1876 The sun is setting as I sit down to my diary. I have since supper been trying to fix up my portion of the path to Freds. But the mosquitoes were too many for me. Just after a rain and towards evening they are thickest. In early morning when there’s no wind they are very thick also. A very pleasant rainy season morning with thermometer @ 80°

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was succeeded by a squally and rainy afternoon with an immense quantity of mosquitoes and gallinippers. More grubbing, holing, and root pulling was in order. Fred planted more nuts and seeds. With our corn and nigger bacon we had bread biscuit for dinner and several loaves of bread are baked for future use, with enough flour to last us two weeks longer. The “Bonne” came down today and proceeded on her Key West way this afternoon with a very light breeze. The mill, which has been running quite regularly since Gillis has been sawyer shows no life today. Phip has been as lively as a chicken to day and Freddie and the baby with Phip have made “Rome howl” within doors at times. Brenda has just “cleaned them up” for Sunday and the two older chatterboxes are trying to talk themselves to sleep in the next room. And now we are anxious for more letters and also the delayed freight.

P.G.C. Sunday July 16, 1876 One of the brightest days of the wet season. The temperature was moderately low and a delightful breeze gave its cooling help to our comfort. We had three good meals of victuals and enjoyed ourselves accordingly. A hen went piecemeal down out “little red lanes” at dinner, accompanied by pea, beans, corn and coffee, and pickled pears corn and coffee went the same road at supper time. Each meal gave us good sweet bread and the inner man waxed warm in consequence. Brenda went to church and, no rain visiting us, the children had a good play spell out of doors. As we sat at the supper table Gillis came in from Fort Meyers on the mustang and he is now waiting (sunset) for a chance to cross. He states that

Page 119 the mosquitoes were “powerful” and he thinks he must have killed about a quart on his way over. The “Santa Maria” had not reached Fort Meyers when he was there. By the way I forgot to mention that we had our first watermelon for dinner. It was not quite ripe but we enjoyed what there was of it, nevertheless. Later—As darkness was gathering I walked over to Freds to see what he was going to do with Gillis. Fred had concluded to row over and leave him on the other side meanwhile anchoring the mustang out on the shore. But just as he was getting off the boat Neuse sent up a howl and started for the back fence. A man was just visable [sic] in the darkness walking along and whacking mosquitoes. He made for the old camping place and almost immediately a fire was started. We sallied forth and found Ely. Whidden and his two yoke of oxen soon followed. And best of all they had brought a young buck, some peas and some potatoes for us. Just where I shot my deer Ely killed the buck and a mile this side also killed a doe. The buck was presented to us and the hams of the doe they kept for themselves. I suppose—although we may be presented with them too. I really believe Whidden took extra pains to get a deer and delayed his arrival for our benefit. His “foolin’ around after deer” he said made him late in arriving. Of course we are thankful for Whidden’s favors and will put in our ‘tater with a good grace this week. Later still Fred has taken Gillis across Ely has skinned the deer and Fred and I have toted in the remains—also the ½ bush. of sweet potatoes and bush of peas in the pod. Whidden, since he went home, has put in about 3000 feet of sweet potatoes. Why

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cant every family do as well. His principal planting will be done in August. Gillis also waits until August and plants up to the middle of September. We have yet time you see to “make.” Tomorrow morning we are to have venison liver and venison chops—and sweet potatoes for breakfast! Whidden’s boy sent a couple of watermelon as his share of fodder. But you should have heard the mosquitoes “holler” tonight in Freds “grove.” Around Whidden’s camp fire very few nibbled. The hams of the doe were presented to Neuse! Whidden said he brought them purposely for the dog.

P.G.C. Monday July 17, 1876 We have fared sumptuously today. Venison liver and sweet potatoes for breakfast and venison stew, peas, and sweet potatoes for dinner. Corn was a side dish and actually untouched. We had also a watermelon for breakfast and one for dinner and our poor stomachs could not stretch far enough to contain all. Things were so good we actually “stuffed” and work was impeded rather than helped by our full stomach. The day was warm. Ther 90°. Fred took all the morning to jerk venison and prepare the carcase. I chopped a good pile of buttonwood, made an orange mound and hilled up 90 feet of potatoes, besides planing some piazza boards. Of the latter I have now 22 done and hope to lay my piazza by the first of next week. Fred attacked juinpour [?] weeds and went through his nursery. But we were all too full for much work. Freddie has been shelling peas all day. The nigs came over for the lighter and mustang. Whidden went back with Ely. After much trouble he got his raft of lumber and has just come over. He will leave for home at “sun up” or an “hour from sun” and we will all send letters by him. All well exceedingly and will manage to “keep our ends up.” With love to all. Ever etc. Jarvee [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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[Actually marked 123 on photocopy but seems to be no missing pages, although last (marked page 117) is my numbered 119. He skips from 118 to 123 in his numbering. I continue to number in order unless there is obvious missing page(s).]

Punta Gorda Chica. Fla Tuesday July 18, 1876

My dear Pa,

“An hour from sun” this morning Whidden pulled at the rope attached to one yoke of oxen, Ely pulled at another on the leading yoke and started to lead with his broad brimmed felt hat and shouldered rifle showing in the sunlight, and off went the 550 feet of lumber, weighing a little over a ton, on the road to Whiddens “ranche.” We all went in to breakfast and took our sweet potatos [sic], venison, bread and coffee with considerable gusto. A lovely day followed with a spanking easterly breeze. In fact the breeze was so cooling in its effect that we found it impossible to start any perspiration. Notwithstanding the lovely weather we all felt weak and languid. Anna could eat nothing at all at breakfast. The real fact was we had all eaten too much yesterday and not being accustomed to such high living we could not stand it. I tried potatoes but hard as I could go it I only got up 60 feet. Fred stuck to his nursery and got that in prime condition. For this day we were actually “bloated aristocrats.” A slight fall of rain visited us after dinner. At that meal we took bites of the saddle. It was delicious and tender enough to dissolve without masticating. Neuse was stuffed so highly as to look—and to be— uncomfortable. During the cleaning of the deer the head and antlers was thrown to him. Afterward Fred and I hunted for the antlers but could not find them. Looking a [sic] the distended stomach of Neuse and his general gothic anatomy of bones it became rather a mooted point whether the outline visable [sic] under the skin was his ribs or the antlers. The vote was divided on that question. Last evening Whidden and Ely entertained Fred and me with his conversation. His views on orange culture were certainly

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original, if not correct. He always plants his trees 6 or 8 inches lower than the surface and then banks up the earth on them with plenty of manure. He had heard that bones were good for orange trees. Therefore he collected a load and made a deep hole, filling it “plum up” with them. The tree was planted but sometime afterward he took up the tree and found the tap root wrapped entirely around one bone and twisted out of all s—uper [?] among the others. Someone else advised shell. So May=Ann dug down to the roots of a tree and shell from the creek was filled in 6 inches deep, all around it. Then hog hair was vied in another; and so on. I am afraid he is further from the truth than we are! But Whidden is a big hearted fellow, nevertheless. When we thanked him for the things he brought he insisted on the fact that we had done much more for him than he had for us and these things only slightly repaid the past favors: How different from the generality of man kind. He said on leaving that next time he was coming down for a hunt and to enjoy himself and to stop 4 or 5 days. There is no Floridian Fred and I would sooner have for a guest than this man and I hope he will keep his word. This afternoon I set out two thrifty orange trees (2 years old) from a batch that Fred planted when he first came down. By the way Whidden thinks we may get from 5 to 6 bushels of clean rice. He says it looks first rate, and much better than his. Much of his died out before the rain soaked it to the “standing” point. It dont “sucker” yet, but is over a foot high—and actually waves when the wind blows! The whole colony has individually and collectively been shelling peas to day. Even the baby had his hands—and feet—in. Hunkies is just cutting

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a double tooth, and gets along without a great deal of bother. Mosquitoes not visable [sic] between 8 A.M. and 6 P.M. Before and after they were—and are—hefty. There are none in the house as I write by the light of the red lamp. The mites are asleep and Brenda calls for me to dry up. I dry!

P.G.C. Wednesday July 19, 1876 Warmer than yesterday with less wind. Mosquitoes not very plenty until about dusk. Then they turned up lively and sharp-billed. During the night I felt the effects of cold peas for supper. Bad food for supper! Tore me into shreds by day light. Ate a hearty breakfast, however, and went to work at potato hilling. Put up about 160 feet and “planted out” 92 vines. Fred dug lemon holes and set out trees. About 3 o’c Megale came with his baby sloop. He was bound up river for chickens and had only Havana segars, tobacco, matches and pen knives for sale. We managed to buy a pound of piccadurse [sic] to be paid for when he comes again. We also ordered 50 salt mullet and “50 clam,” and they will arrive about Sept 1. He asked $5 per 100 for cigars. A slight pattering on the roof now occurs, but the clouds dont warrant a shower of any length. A nice westerly breeze is blowing and the evening is cool and pleasant. Venison still holds out good. Neuse is rapidly covering his bones with deer padding. The “antlers” hardly show today. 2 eggs from the chickens yesterday. —Yesterday Mr Rowan’s white schooner went off at day light. The family still remains I believe.

P.G.C.Thursday July 20, 1876 So far I think we have had cooler weather in June and July than we had last year. The average temperature is about 87°. We seldom have it above 90° and the highest so far has been 92° or 93°. Today the weather was anything but oppressive and the afternoon was

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breezy and comfortable. I had so few vines that I holed instead of hilled. I have now 10 places ready for lemons and 15 for guavas; besides 2 for limes and a dozen or so grubbed places of oranges. Fred is making circles for lemons and guavas, and there will be considerable setting out soon. At daylight this mg. the “Santa Maria” was visable [sic] opposite having returned from the “Caloosahatch.” But we have not heard any news. Our fresh venison is eaten and we had a piece of jerked for dinner. It tasted first rate. The last of Whiddens peas were on the dinner table and we finish the potatoes tomorrow. They were “powerful good” while they lasted. I think Fred and I can now dig some of our “hold over.” I shall commence with a “mess” for Sunday. Together we now have out about 2000 or more new vines and by next week we can make use of the “creepers.” I discovered two young watermelons on my vines today and more may follow. The Whidden feast has taken us from way “low down” to quite an elevated state of health. Since you left we have had no washing done outside the family and Brenda and Anna will endeavor to keep it up so. I hear no buzzing of mosquitos tonight either within or without: what’s up? Three little “Humpty Dumptys” with close shaven heads came to me for a good night kiss ½ an hour ago, looking as bright and happy as clams at high water.

P.G.C. Friday July 21, 1876 Fish day without a fin! Warm and sunny. Tries hard to rain about 4 o’c with poor success. A few drops fall and De Coster gets the bulk of the shower. More holing and planting. Too dry for potato hilling. Beans for dinner, with corn and corn bread. We return

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to our—not muttons—but corn. The sunset is bright and golden. Lockhart returning to the Rose house quietly drifts through the reflection. Mosquitos out of doors lively. Frogs concertising well. To day while hilling a lemon hole, was visited by a gopher. I captured him but the deacon did not care to go through the pleasures of slaughtering him. I harnessed him up to the baby’s carriage and Mr. Gopher walked off with it as comfortably as possible. With a couple of yokes of gophers Freddie could get along without goats. Quail are plenty and are just beginning to bunch up. I saw a brace—in pairs—cross the path as I sat on the piazza and flushed 8 at once in the field yesterday. Only an occasional wood-dove visits us. But there are plenty of love doves and the mourning doves. We shall not have any great number before Sept 1.

P.G.C. Saturday July 22, 1876 More holing, more warm day, considerable fussing and carpentering, deep-set trees raised above their natural level etc etc. Trees don’t grow fast enough so we raise them from 6 to 8 inches in half an hour. My big orange tree is as high as the crown of my hat. Some of my small “Clarkies” look consumptive and their tap roots are evidently troubled. Freds look well. Nearly all are thrifty and bushy. Some of mine show ½ a dozen faded leaves and dont seem to start. Still all the 1st lot of Clarke trees are growing rapidly. They were much superior to the Second lot. These latter were almost too young to leave the nursery and seek a subsistance in the outside world. The kitchen fire burned the lemon tree back of the back piazza—I cut it off and trained a new shoot from the roots. At present that shoot is nearly 4 feet high, as straight as an arrow and still growing thriftily. The “Centenals”

Page 126 limes are growing, but have not taken much root yet. Freds two Cent. oranges are putting forth quick growing shoots and in fact his large trees are looking extremely well. Jerked venison keeps up muscular power and corn adds its filling up process. Warm and breezy all day today. Rain fell towards supper time and we took the meal with big drops beating on the roof above us. Then there came a let=up until dusk. Mosquitoes and gallinippers filled the air. Clouds bunched up rapidly as the sun set gorgeously and as I am preparing for rest down pours a good old fashioned rainy season shower with a mighty roar of wind and lurid flashes of lightning and the continual roll of echoing thunder. Freddies room is afloat, but the two youngsters, with feet locked together like sardines in a box and heads at opposite points of the compass sleep on quietly. A drop of cool water from overhead has just dropped on the lamp chimney and busted it. The lamp smokes like a cracker rush light and grows feeble. I shall therefore “pop in” and resume the thread of my jerky discourse tomorrow.

P.G.C.Sunday July 23, 1876 From muttered thunder and deluging rain of last night the change to sunshine and breezes is delightful this morning. Everything looks fresh and there is no hot sand to scorch the breeze as it comes in doorway and window. And yet the day opens at 82°. The premonitary [sic] symptoms of lettuce are visable [sic] in the bay and grass islands are floating down with the tide. The potatoes look thrifty and in some cases cover the hill. I hope they will do well. We commence an era of coffee without sugar and continue our corn straight. For dinner I dig some West Indias and Fred [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Jerked venison stew forms the piece de resistance—and we endeavor to satisfy our prodigious appetites. The afternoon is quiet and comfortable with a delightful breeze and we pass it quietly until we are called by the rattle of the bell to partake of the final dash of pickle pears—with corn and coffee. Quiet reigns and no other rains visit us this evening and we finish the quiet day by quietly going early to bed.

P.G.C. Monday July 24, 1876 This day opens quietly, calmly and mosquitoey. After breakfast Fred begins on lemon mounds and I on potato mounds. He finishes 6 and I get 150 feet and “plant out” 101 vines before supper. A shower threatens but stops short and makes a wide detour through the woods. The strong westerly breeze is against it. Add a little carpentering to my after dinner siesta, as usual, and set out a 4 year old orange tree in my potato beds. Some of the new vines are long enough to cut and these will, it is said, make the best potatoes. In another week there will be plenty such. Neuse is no longer a study of gothic architecture, but gives a fair sample of the Moravian. He is as round as a ‘possum. I forgot to record the fact that three days ago Master Harry walked over to his “Unks” and back. Fred’s new name for prickly heat is “Planter’s Itch!” Fred’s small bush with a hundred young guavas on looks so odd. —more like a baby with a man’s hat on. The fruit is now nearly the size of an ordinary cherry. Fred and Anna have just dropped in and passed the evening with us. It is 9 o’c as they leave. The young moon was shining as they went from the piazza. Frogs were making a big hullabaloo back in the [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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[First line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] P.G.C. Tuesday July 25, 1876 The sun is just setting in a glory of distant rain clouds and making a picture of the landscape that can only be seen during the rainy season. A half hour ago I took my hoe and tried to weed out some of the grass in the path. I was progressing favorably; the air was calm and I felt uno mosquitos. Suddenly, without any reason they seem to rise out of the ground like a cloud and I was covered. Without trying to tell a big sotry, I should imagine there were certainly a thousand on me and more circling about. I gave up and started on the run to the house. On the piazza I slaughtered them by hundreds and finally cleared myself sufficiently to enter. During the day I put up 150 feet of potato hill and planted a hundred vines. Fred finished up ½ a dozen lemon mounds and set out 2 trees. In addition I made my 13th lemon hole and did some edging to piazza boards. We have had a fair sort of day with threatening rain and a slight drizzle for ½ an hour. Megale is just visable [sic] going towards Punta Gorda. But we look anxiously and longingly for an arrival from Key West.

P.G.C. Wednesday noon. A boat has just arrived with flour pork and one box directed to me, The men return to Manatee this afternoon. I take advantage to seal up and send this hurriedly. All well and now in fine spirits. Your letter of July 14 also received. Love to all. Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Wednesday July 26, 1876

My dear Pa,

To day turns out to be a sort of festal day with us P.G. Chickens. All this morning we noticed the small schooner “Mary” —Rowan’s craft tacking back and forth in uncertainty on the other side of the “drink.” She finally anchored down by the Waldron place and we thought nothing further of the “little white schooner.” During her backing I said to the deacon that she seemed anxious to get over on our shore with wind and tide to fight against; but he scouted the idea—and I too began to think I was in error. After dinner as I was enjoying my after dinner piccadura and trying to imagine its aroma that of a fine Havana Segar I noticed a small boat heading for us from the direction of the “Santa Maria.” Then I walked over to Freds. As she came near I saw freight and her gunwale within 3 inches of the water. In a few minutes the agony was over and our hearts elated, for the little dingy of the “Mary” came up to the wharf with a barrel of flour, a ½ barrel of pork and one of Mrs Reeve’s boxes—the latter 2 mos and 6 days coming—which were gloriously acceptable. The men had to return immediately, as they were to take a load of freight to Manatee this afternoon. Therefore without unpacking the box I rushed for my diary sealed it with an added P.S. —and sent it by them. We, —Fred and I—carted the flour and pork to cover and then I unpacked the box. It contained only a few prunes and a can of tomatoes and another of corn, in the way of eatables, but other necessaries equally needed. Ben got her 2 pr. new shoes, Phip also one pair. Each of the youngsters had a new straw hat, serviceable and very becoming. New dresses for baby, new dresses for Phip, and new waists for Freddie without end almost. There must have been 10 or 15 in all. Mosquito netting for the childrens bed; centennial badges; a new belt

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for Phip; a checker board and checkers for Freddie a box of block letters also; a cover for the kitchen table (!) 2 new head pieces for the “old lady,” a sun bonnet for Harry; 3 or 4 small boxes of candies for the youngsters some of them in a jellified state; a wrapper for Brenda and a couple of aprons and a nice lot of dish towels all hemmed and made up, with newspapers and odds and ends of buttons old table cloths, “pieces” —a little brandy in case of sickness, some Radwing [?] and smaller items showing forethought on the part of Aunt Julia, Minna and Mrs. R. It was like being at boarding school again and getting a box from home. I only received one letter from home —from you dated July 14. I am sorry to hear that you are working so hard and that we “crackers” add to your worry and troubles. It makes me feel downhearted sometimes when I think of the life you all lead at home, so different from what it should be. Fred and I are doing all we can to help matters on but at the utmost we don’t seem to make things move as repidly as we would wish: the grubbing hoe don’t get over ground fast enough and ploughing with a “planters hoe is primitive work. But for “greenies” at farming we accomplish considerable as it is. Fred was never in better health than he is now. Even Anna says that she never saw him look and act so well. He works like a good fellow and accomplishes much. I have labored under boil difficulties considerably this season but since Whidden replenished our larder I have put in some good strokes—and more will follow now we are in luck and pork and flour give our rations a stiff back bone. The last bbl. of flour lasted just 3 mos. and the “sponge” is ready to commence a batch of bread from the new barrel on Friday. The final batch was used from the last barrel

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on last Saturday’s bread making—leaving a little for the “infant Micawber” for “pap.” To-day I picked a “mess” of green peas from my patch. They were nearly as good as marrow fats. Next year I shall have a larger patch and so will Fred: They will furnish good string beans in a youthful state, green peas later and then what remains will come in finely as dried beans. We shall start some tomatoes again after the rainy season and try to get some of that fruit for winter use. If the rice does well we will look up a bigger patch and prepare for larger results. As to potatoes we are well assured of better crop than last year and enough to spare. I shall hunt more during the winter months and try to have a deer once a month at the outside. With quail in September and mullet and other odds and ends of Florida marketing I think we can reduce our expenses muchly. The new skiff will help us to considerable. This we will commence as soon as our planting will warrant. The grains are being fixed to work with more certainty and altogether we are getting in better working order “as we know how.” In the meantime we plant all the trees and potatoes we can and wait for better times. The “kitchen business” I don’t want to refer much to now until I hear what you think of my plan to ask help direct from Uncle John. That puzzle bothers me more than any thing else, but I think it can be solved someway. So far as clothing is concerned we don’t have to purchase much in these days. The Reeve family cover Ben and the infants better than I could afford to and my old clothes come in quite handy for me. All the hats, jackets dresses: and such things in the box were “love gifts” —from either Aunty Min or Grandma Reeves and John, Harry, Sam and Kate Waterbury and even Aunt Julia sent their contributions. Today the weather has been warm and sunny [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Thursday July 27, 1876 Another quiet summer day with little wind and much sunshine. After breakfast Fred and I took the two boys in their new hats and vain with centennial badges across the bay. We found additional letters from home and many papers which came in a box to De Coster. We had to hang round quite a while until De Coster and William could settle mill matters which they did under the shadow of a guava, on their “hunkies” and at the same time drew sand pictures with a stick. I was anxious to get some guava plants and waited. The meeting was so lengthy that I finally interrupted and got permission to dig the plants myself. And then I had to give up, as there was nothing to dig with. We went back rather disgusted. After dinner Ely appeared on horseback with a yoke of steers while I was edging some piazza boards and he had to be taken across. So I went with him and took spade and box. I dug up about 20 good trees, and stowed them away in the boat. Old Joselyn had meanwhile arrived, with his schooner and on board were ½ a dozen big loggerhead turtles. These he brought for De Coster. He also had some salted and smoked mullet but only a few. De Coster got the smoked fish and I helped myself to ½ a dozen of the salt ones, telling the old pirate I would owe him a quarter for them. Then I paddled back home. After supper I set out 10 guavas and then the gallinippers and mosquitos swarmed over me to such an extent that I heeled in the rest for tomorrows planting. Ely had then arrived with 2 niggers and the lighter and the oxen were taken back. And now Fred and Anna have crossed again—the 3rd trip of the white boat—to bring Ely back. In the morning Ely goes home and we will send a letter or two

Page 133 by him—of course not forgetting the diary. Brenda thinks you must be getting about sick of hearing my long P.G.C. gossiping rigmarole, but you said you wanted it and you shall have it—hot and heavy. By the way I forgot to mention that the freight came by the Bonny to Punta Rassa and that the “Mary” brought the things up. They propose—if they cant purchase Waldron’s place for a $500 greenback (cash down) to run the “Mary” a 5 ton schooner to Punta Rassa regularly and connect with the Bonny. After going to Manatee they expect to meet the “Bonny” anyway next Tuesday on her return from Key West and bring up such freight as she may have for Charlotte Harbor. Old man Rowan and his two sons seem to be wide awake thrifty people and I hope they will succeed in becoming fixtures on the bay. It is very odd that we did not receive the box of corn beef and 2 other boxes of Brenda’s in Key West and also the rice I sent for—but I hope the next trip will bring them all. Even on the things that did come Addison charged $3.00 freight taking my last $2 and one from Anna which Fred borrowed. This days mail and your letter of July 7 replenishs [sic] my pocket book with a $5 bill and Em’s letter puts me in possession of another $1. Taking it all together you need not worry about us in regard to food. With the things about to arrive we are safe and comfortable during the rest of the year. Pork, flour, corn rice corn beef, and coffee for stores and such fish and game as we shall soon take will make us lively again. Our appetites will be satisfied hereafter. Mother seems to worry about Fred’s health. He is thin of course, but not so thin as he was last winter. He is in “powerful” good health [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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I am. He has no neuralgia, no trouble with his eyes, and, aside from being as nervous as Fred Howard always will be, is in as good condition as he has been for a long while. He works lively and accomplishes much, has a glorious appetite—the failing with all of us— and enjoys his piccadura and hay mixed with exquisite relish... Hog and hominy agrees with him better than with me. Vegetable diet sets me all right end up and agrees as well with all of us. You say that limes are worth $10 to $12 per barrel in New York. De Coster’s limes I am positive are “superior” to any that reach the New York market and would bring $15 if they could be got there in prime condition. We shall plant all the lime seeds we can get, but there seem to be nothing but sweet and bitter lemons for us to use the seed of. They are not worth the bother and care of attending to. Could you not get us a dozen bona fide Sicily lemons in New York that we could plant the seeds of here. Should you have occasion to send a box be sure to put in a dozen Sicily lemons. I really believe there are none in Florida. The six lemons De Coster gave us were bitter and fear from sour. And still persons will swear the lemons to be Sicily ones. Lemons even decayed when they reach us will be good for seed. The great trouble with the gentry who may plant Sicily seeds is that the lemon tree is always near an orange and while the orange fruit turns out to be sour orange the lemon as well turns out to be a sweet lemon, each tree’s roots intermingling the trees partake of the qualities of each other. Therefore most lemons are sour and bitter or sweet and [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 135 varying qualities and the true blood gets wofully [sic] muddled. Therefore send us some simon pure Sicilies. When the trees grow up from those seeds we can easily bud and graft and make all our trees Sicilies. I am sorry to hear that Mother has been sick. Tell her I will write next opportunity. And now, I must stop. We are all uncommonly well. Anna is feeling in excellent physical condition and Brenda, Freddie, Phip and Harry are as peckish as possible. With love to all Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Fla. Friday July 28, 1876

My dear Pa,

This morning I sent you by way of Whidden’s 2 days diary. The previous batch went via Manatee. Either one ought to make a quick passage. Ely departed after breakfast which he took at table with us. It was a good breakfast and I make a note of it. Salt mullet, corn (!), corn-cake, raw tommies and coffee. Some of Mrs. De Coster’s milk sent the corn “to slippin down easy.” Then Ely mounted his sleek little colt and started for home which he expected to reach by noon. He had a “yaller dog,” equally sleek, which contentedly trotted along with him. Freddie had a preliminary ride and felt duly elated. I then did up chores and made 7 mounds for guavas and “planted out” my trees after dinner—making 25 all told. Fred stuck to banana transferring. This afternoon rain began to fall after dinner and kept up until dark—a gentle sort of northern rain—and the clouds are still hanging round and threatening more. As I could not work in the field I carpentered and then driven in doors, read up back files of newspapers. What jolly hot weather you must have had about July 13. Today I don’t think we have got higher than 82° and 3°. And there was our usual breeze to make it seem less. Mosquitoes played light also. The “Laura” came down at noon, ran aground opposite and there she is still. Lockhart moved his “duds” today into his new shanty and he had therefore commenced to be neighborly— that is, at a distance of two miles. Last evening Fred brought back from De Coster’s a “junk” of loggerhead turtle and tomorrow we shall partake. The turtle was a 400 pounder. For dinner today we had some egg plant from the De Coster ranch and a prime watermelon. With a flour, pork and corn backbone we shall feed quite comfortably and with stray picking manage to keep clear of “starvation.”

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P.G.C. Saturday July 29, 1876 Rain, wind, drizzle and sunshine. A combination of everything appertaining to the damp season. It threatened at sunrise, was cloudy and foggy until 10 o’c then drizzle and shower varied the reste [sic] of the day. Before the rain set in I “put me up” 130 feet of potato hill and “planted out” my 88 vines. Between showers and during a drizzle I dug up and “sot out” 7 of the large 2 year old lemon trees in the afternoon. As I write this evening more rain drizzles and the wind blows enough to take the house up bodily. The thermometer has been low all day. At supper time it marked 82°. Turtle liver and turtle stew were our “grand dishes” today. Ben made the best bread of the season from the new flour and Mr. Deacon ate a dinner that in our “low down” days would answer for the six (and a half) of us. While waiting for ‘tater vines to grow Fred made a grand plaza on the South side of his house. I hope the rain will start some of my vines to creeping again, for I am getting short also. The “Laura” was non est this mg. She may have gone to Key West. But you can’t most always sometimes tell! I wish you could see the three boys now. They are healthy looking specimens of children. The “infant Micawber” climbs up and down the steps and makes dirt pies without regard to mosquitoes or sand flies. The rain still keeps up a dropping and it will do a vast amount of saturating of the sacred soil of Florida before morning at the present rate. Up country there has been very little rain so far. In some places none at all. By the way, Von Pfister has bought the yacht “Ida” 7 tons and re-named it “Gov. Hayes” and will use it instead of the “Laura” in the “Chuckalusky” trade. Nothing has yet been done to the old “Santa Maria.” She still hangs fire in front of Pepi’s.

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As a “fruit item” I may mention that we have distanced De Coster on one variety. One of Fred’s fig trees that he transferred to the westerly side of his kitchen has put forth a fig. It seems quite ashamed of itself to be caught on so small a tree and covers its nakedness with a fig leaf. The tree is just 15 inches high. What next? De Coster picked up some scrawny looking banana plants at Fort Meyers and now has “the finest bananas in Manatee County,” on his plantation! His lime trees are full of splendid fruit this year just getting to be usable. On Monday $600 is due on the mill. If it is not paid or Williams wont come to other terms it reverts to Williams again and D.C. loses what he has already paid on it. Poor D.C.!

P.G.C..Sunday July 30, 1876 Rain has fallen nearly all day; and in heavy quality. It was a cloudy at sunrise and after much preperation [sic] over head, with masses of scudding clouds from the S.W., rain and wind came before dinner and this afternoon the deluge set in. Everything is overflowed on the plantation and the fall still continues this evening. At times the wind blew a gale and threatened to blow us up river. The “Santa Maria” dragged her anchor and may, by this time be on De Costers beach. I have not been able to see her since dinner time. Our new walk, between our house and Freds—with its deep gutters on each side—kept dry. It was rather better than walking through 6 inches of water last August. We passed the day within doors, with thermometer about 85°. Raw tommies and eggs(!) for breakfast; corn beef and sweet potatoes and canned corn for dinner and prunes for supper—with corn—of course—at each meal. A few days ago Ben and I saw a family of quail: the two old ones and 10 wee mites half the size of a chicken as it comes from the shell. They [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Monday July 31, 1876 This is the first day this year that we found it impossible to do any kind of work. All through the night high winds and heavy rains prevailed. And all day long the same kind of weather has been in force. Such a deluge as P.G.C. had to suffer. The potato bed paths—in fact the entire surface was a mass of water. There was really more water than land visable [sic]. Parts of our “park” path were 4 inches under water. On our breakfast trip to the Deacon’s we got soaked. I carried Phip, and our umbrellas were almost useless. All the morning we were a colony of homebodies. I made a pair of “pattens” for Brenda and she went over to dinner dry shod looking like the last Japanese arrival. At dinner we had another soak, but at supper time the deluge had so far fallen that we all got over comfortable without bother. The wharf was submerged and the highest tide yet visited us. A howling, whistling gale is prowling about the house now and the shanty seems to lift up and down as if breathing. The potatoes look as if they liked it but I am afraid the watermelons will run to water—minus melon. White caps are visable [sic] all over the bay at sunset and the prospect is extremely dismal and uninviting out of doors. Fred and I expected to do many potato hills today, but the weather is against us. Had it been the best day in the world I could not have done much for a lemon thorn which run into my thumb joint started the jolliest kind of a painful boil and I have been one handed all day and soaking out the other. The “Santa Maria” shows up again all right and neither the mill nor De Costers house have blown down yet. The frogs are loud-voiced and varied tonight. Tell George the frog with a voice like a sick calf arrived yesterday and all his friends came today. The little shrill whistles cry out from every puddle and fiddlers and other fish are visable [sic] again near the houses.

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[Three drawings of proposed kitchen: North front elevation, West front elevation and plan view of interior. Interior includes “Dining Room” (15 x 1) on left, Stove Room (8 x 8) on upper right, and Piazza (7 x7 8) (exterior) on lower right. Three steps off stove room and piazza, five windows and 2 doors. Elevated on tree stumps.]

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Materials for Kitchen

800 feet seaulting [?] @ 800 700 “ siding 700 350 “ flooring 350 1850 @ 16 29.60 500 rough edge @ $5 2.50 5 sash (double) @ $2 10.00 Nails 7.00 Shingles (3500) @ $5 17.50 66.60 900 running feet battening 4.00 $70.60

This building is much cheaper than the old one. It gets rid of the turn in the roof—1500 shingles. The small piazza answers nearly every purpose as a “washing” piazza and a place for a water pail and to hang up game. The stove room can hold all pots and kettles—most of the time. 2 windows and a door will keep it cool and no partition dividing from D.R. will make it additionally so. In Northers we can “draw up” to the fire. As we shall eat in the kitchen the D.R. will answer nicely, and can be kept clean and cozy. In that room will be kept dishes and a working table besides an eating table as before. By leaving off old piazza I save enough to ercot [?erect] a new store house 2 feet larger than the old one and a better one.

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P.G.C. Tuesday August 1, 1876 Another non-working day. Rain all night and rain all day with only an occasional let-up and then for a few moments only. The deluge flooded everything. Our houses seem to be in the centre of a bog and the tide came above the small wharf to heighten the effect. The paths, potato=beds—in fact everything—was covered with water. The orange mounds looked like little islands in a lake. Small fish, an inch long could be seen in the clear water of every puddle. Could these latter have rained down? Small frogs and 6 inch worms were also found. The gutters about us were overflowed and nothing drained away. The banana patch was a pond with lillies [sic] seeming to crop up from it. We all tried to “enjoy” it all but we were not sufficiently educated in Make Tapleyism to do so. The trips to meals were like wading trout streams for a “bite.” But we got our raw tomatoes for breakfast and the last of the jerked venison for dinner. The sun appeared for a few moments while going down, but that was the only time during the day he showed his face. We’ve got enough! Let J.P. hold off a little now. Ther. 78° at noon today.

P.G.C. Wednesday August 2, 1876 Instead of rain we have had sunshine all day. The ground was too much soaked to work over. Tomorrow it will be all right again. I tried a little hilling this afternoon but it wouldn’t work. So I took the boat and Brenda and went over to De Costers. When I got back with some Epsom salts and limes Fred had listed up 250 feet of preparatory potato hill. De Coster was at Pine Level. Freddie and Phip passed the day sailing schooners in the gutters on the side of the path. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Thursday August 3, 1876 An immense mass of lettuce covers the bay on De Costers side. Tonight it works over our way and the whole bay is dotted with small grass islands. Fred put into potatoes early and by supper time put up 175 feet. I tried my hoe—not feeling well and hands and feet in boils—and only got up 125 feet. It was like making mud pies over again the ground was so soft and saturated. Web feet resulted naturally. We got all our vines in before the afternoon rain which threatened much but amounted to but little. Mosquitos have not been of any account at all in the past 4 days. I expected many after the rain but am agreeably disappointed. Yesterday we had for dinner the 9th watermelon. Fred dug some potatoes tonight to help pork and corn out tomorrow. No water standing to day on my place and very little on Freds. Took some Epsom this mg. Upset me for the day. And it was only ½ a teaspoonful. Will try it again tomorrow. I’d rather have a cocktail. Ther 88° at noon.

P.G.C. Friday August 4, 1876 Cooler again—that is, a few degrees cooler. Gillis came over at “sun=up” and went off into the woods; I suppose to swim home on De Coster’s pony. He is to be back Sunday. There was nothing said about mill matters. But I suppose the mill dont stop right away. Heavy rains came upon us at noon and potato hilling was like digging trenches in a swamp. Fred got up 140 feet and I, feeling still rather “mean” only got up 80 feet. Mosquitoes non est. Had my feet been without the dozen boils upon them I might have waded in potato gullies and have done better. Lockhart today moved on the “Santa Maria” to his new place. I thought he had done so before the “deluge,” but although ready he had all his goods caught in that storm and soaked and for a week nearly he has been drying up. He is over now and the “Santa Maria” was all the

Page 144 afternoon beating back to quarters. He says (L) that he dont find any more mosquitoes down there than he did on the other side.

P.G.C. Saturday August 5, 1876 A good working day with much breeze and Florida variety. Sunshine, cloudy weather, a little rain and two schooners. Early this morning the “Bonne” came in. She had to beat up. As she came by she showed the stars and stripes in the rigging and Fred and I took the blue tinted white boat and went out getting on board nicely. We found Lizzie Gardner’s box, 50 lbs rice, a pound of pepper, and the box of corned beef. Therefore all boxes have arrived but hte one Johnnie Furman sent. After dinner Fred and I went over to De Costers for letters and papers. He received a letter from you and I one from Mother. Brenda had one from Em and Freddie two birthday letters. But no news came from Mrs. R. or that quarter. Tell George Fred received the tobacco! And Fred tells me he received $5. from you. Cash, the talker, had been to Pine Level for De Coster and especially to get some molasses for D.C. and ours. He forgot his message and we have ordered the keg back—there being no hopes of our getting any molasses from Pine Level. We shall watch our opportunity now, after the keg gets back from Fort Winder and we feel in funds to send direct to Manatee by Rowan’s “Mary” and get it. Fred got up 80 feet and I the same of potato hill today. During the day we opened Lizzie Gardners “stores.” There was corn starch and Farina for the baby, a package of Smiths cracked wheat and another of Heckers R. R. Flour; with a pair of shoes for Freddie and some rubbers—all perhaps from Mrs. R. and any quantity of Harpers and other magazines and newspapers of every kind from Lizzie. Brenda was rather disappointed, as we havn’t got our appetites sufficiently whetted yet to live on newpapers [sic] and magazines. Still Lizzie G. has no idea of our “situation. Johnnie Furman’s box has gone astray and Mr Phillips is trying to find it. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Charlotte Harbor Fla. August 9, 1876

My dear Pa,

Enclosed you will find a copy of a letter I send by the schooner directed to John M. Furman. Read it over and keep “mmm.” It may do good. It may not. Ben and I talked the matter over and she thought she knew Uncle John sufficiently to think such a letter would be effective. Time will show. I also send you a list of goods you can have the pleasure of buying for us—providing a check for $500. is sent to you. Should it not come, rake up what you can from my things, reduce the list of things by taking off those marked (x thirty) see Mrs. Reeve and turn the silver into green backs and buy. As soon as potato hilling is over I shall commence a new store house, use it for a kitchen and put up a larger kitchen when I get means. I have almost material enough to finish now. Fred and I will also build a skiff and be ready for mullet. All well but “boils”—They are beastly. Salts don’t hit ‘em. Ever etc. J.C. Howard [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Monday August 7, 1876 According to Joe Addison the “Bonne” was to be down yesterday or to day. But Joe must have lied as usual, under a mistake—for up to dusk tonight she had not put in an appearance. Rowan’s “Mary” went up river this afternoon and a small sloop came in about noon and dropped anchor at De Costers wharf. Gillis was to be back yesterday and he has not come. The weather today has been delightful and so very enjoyable. I essayed potato hills this morning and put up 100 feet and planted out my vines. The present price of potatoes in Key West is 25 cents per bushel—so Migale says. It is always the caseafter a high price; the market is over stocked, prices run low, and then the fortunate persons are those who send a month after low rates, for them a dearth of the “fruit” runs up the price again. It seems that the “Laura” went to Key West—Mrs. De Coster loaning Pepi for the trip—with potatoes. She is daily expected back and is advertised for sale at auction this week; at Ogden. This may account for the schooner rush of people up river. This afternoon rain threatened and a tremendous squall of wind came down on us from up river. It were “powerful,” and almost lifted out “har.” While it lasted Fred set out 12 lemon trees and I got out a couple. Most of my time was passed after dinner in concocting a letter to Mr. Furman which I will send by this next mail and hope for good results. I have also made out a list of things for “our new kitchen” etc. But you will find it all more clearly stated in a seperate [sic] letter. To-night we felt our first mosquitoes since the rain. None could be found anywhere about the place before. Our salt mullet for breakfast was delicious and the “Swamp [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Tuesday August 8, 1876 A jolly sort of working day. The boils bother a little less and I got up 160 feet to Freds 75. The vines are all in in good season before dark. A good easterly breeze lends its comforting zephyrs to help in the planting. No mosquitoes, until dusk. The “Bonne” suddenly comes upon us before breakfast and in my hurry to get letters together the diary is overlooked. Fred and I board her and hand letters to Capt Nelson. She will come in on her next trip and one or two afterward as thecattle can’t swim 40 miles to Red Fish Point for shipment there. Gillis comes in a little before sunset and signed the other side for the lighter. Three nigs finally bring it leaving before dark and bringing up below the head at 9 o’c. Gillis goes off mad and vows he wont come back again. He states that the mill will run 2 months longer, dating from Aug 2. and then if De Coster can’t pay it will revert to Williams. While Gillis was waiting we learned some Fort Meyers facts. A Mr. Townsend made 75 barrels of sugar which he sold at $20 per barrel at his dock at 12 Mile creek. He had an equal amount of syrup @ 60 cents per gallon which was also taken. And this was the result of 4 acres of cane dotted with orange trees. On 7 acres clear this year he expects to make 200 barrels.His last year’s “make“ was with an ordinary set of boilers. This year he will buy an evaporater [sic] and do the business in style. Gillis says he makes the best sugar and syrup in the county and that we can easily get a supply there —if we go around with the white boat! He also says that the letter I sent by him for you was handed in at the apology for a post office at Fort Meyers. He had something to say about the “regulaters.” A body of masked men called the “regulators” a sort of “Ku Klux,” a few weeks ago sent letters to various people, giving them 30 days to pack up and leave or bear the consequences. King received 30 [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Youmans were notified—and they left for the relations home on the Kissimmee. Whidden also got a message, “with a cross” and quite a rumpus was expected. Gillis says that he heard at Fort Meyers that the party had been discovered at one of its meetings and all the members found out. Old man Williams was chief; Driggers of the “Laura” a prominent member, and others are known. In opposition to the “regulators” are the “moderators” and previous to the expose, there was to be a battle between the two. When Ely was down he mentioned about Whidden’s note. Gillis also says that James Youmans has sent a challenge to Driggers to fight on sight. Each will go armed and when they meet will “pop” at each other until one or both drop. Fred asked Gillis why they could’n’t have a meeting and fight it out with fists like men—or have a regular duel. To the first he said they didn’t do things that way in the south, they always fought with guns or knives. To the latter question he said “It was’n’t legal.” And thus the matter stands. The lighter is staked out below the “head,” the pony is eating grass by Fred’s pagoda and Mr. Gillis has crossed to the other side.

P.G.C. Wednesday August 9, 1876 Today is Freddie’s sixth birthday. He received his usual congratulations, was dressed up and Uncle Fred helped him first at table at supper time in honor of the occasion. Anna spread a clean white napkin under his plate and arranged some acacia flowers and geranium leaves alternately, 6 of each, around his plate and in the plate a big bag of pop corn. Phip was also dressed up and the two boys had a grand time. Fred and I each added 160 feet to our hills and a smart shower at night caught us napping. We had to set out vines in the downpour and carry a small load of mosquitoes at the same time. These latter were mucha plenty. All the boxes and pails [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Thursday August 10, 1876 Strong easterly winds, a pleasant day and no rain. Gillis and John Lomond started this morning before daylight to hunt up the lighter. Last night’s gale from eastward had spirited it away and by this time I suppose it is down by Cape Hayes somewhere. The mustang is over here and will have to remain for some time I am afraid. It if were not for a sore back I should try a short deer hunt with the beast. “Potaters has riz” today. Fred put up about 150 feet and I 200. I had hard scraping to get my vines and had it not been for 65 from Freds I should have had a hundred feet of bare hill. Unless I can get vines from Fred tomorrow I shall have to hold off a day or two. Fred has more than he can use right away, but is fearful of running short! Tell Em we had a Marshall Neil rose on the bush today. It was a beauty. Yellow but with the most delicious perfume. Another bud will open Sunday. All the roses are now in blossom but the blossoms are not many. 30 guavas up. Also 3 tamarinds. These from the seeds planted some time ago. Tomorrow the “Santa Maria” will try to load and take lumber to Fort Winder for the new Court House. Carey Weeks proposes to build a house on De Costers side and live there. His family came down river on the “Bonne” I believe. Mosquitoes extremely peckish tonight outside. None to trouble all day, however. I find tonight that to add to my other comforts I have a nice little patch of “planters itch” —or rather “prickly heat,” on the stern sheet of my epigastrium. Night before last my tortures were varied with a smart attack of toothache. What next? The boils still hold on as prime comforters. I have got quite accustomed to these latter and I am afraid I can’t do without them—like the Californian, who slept on sharp pointed spikes for 20 years and then was given a feather bed to relieve him. As history states he went back to the spikes before he [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Friday August 11, 1876 Delightful weather with no rain, no mosquitoes but breezy and not seemingly warm. The mercury struck 90° at noon but nobody was hurt by it. Light fleecy clouds from the eastward sailed rapidly overhead and white caps adorned the bay nearly all day. All my guavas set out have budded (i.e. started) but one and that may come all right. They all came from De Costers. Next year I want to put out about 50 more and then I shall consider I have enough. In good ground they bear 2 years from the seed and although having a special season for a big crop bear all the year round. Fred expects to see orange blossoms next year on two of his trees, they look so thrifty, but I dont think he will. Fred was at work at potatoes all day, but I don’t know how much he “made”; probably about 150 feet. I had no vines and shall have to wait until the first of next week to begin again. 2500 vines ought to put out creepers enough to furnish 100 new ones a day but they don’t. I might take short ones but the yield will be better with longer planting rods. I amused myself digging some West Indias and finishing up my piazza boards. Tomorrow if the day is fair I think I will put the floor down. The mustang is still a fixture at P.G.C. What do you think of the precocity of the “Infant Micawber”; yesterday he let himself down from the piazza, as Phip used to, and landed on his feet. Three boys now make sand pies under the shadow of the house. The six of us managed to damage 4 salt mullet today. If water was 10 cents a glass we would have been ruined. A “konk horn” has just sounded and Fred has bounced out of bed to yell that the “Bonne” is coming. I have gone over and looked from the wharf but saw “Nary Bonne.” The “conk” probably came from a small sloop that had found the “Haves House” as darkness gathered about her and us, and had afterward struck our light and blown on us.

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P.G.C. Saturday August 12, 1876 Thermometer at 90° a good breeze and plenty of sunshine. No rain. Mosquitoes only show up at sunset and go to bed an hour after dark to wait for moon-up. The old lighter I suppose is lost for good as no one comes for the mustang and the “Sainted Maria” still hovers about the mill flats, nodding at De Costers house at every low tide. Rowan’s small “Mary” is at anchor at the Waldron place this morning and I presume she can account for last nights “Konk horn” as “Mary” came down to the bay at dusk. I commenced laying my piazza today but did not finish. It was tough work without a “dog” to bark the planks into place. Fred says his vines gave out and he did no planting. I wish I had what he considered “poor show.” We selected the skiff boards and will soon prepare for a throw at mullet. Brenda made bully bread to day and a fine lot of biscuit for dinner and supper. So far Ben has made all the bread we have eaten since the fire. The mites have all been soused by Mamma Ben and they are sleeping quietly. They are as healthy as possible. Phip don’t eat quite full rations of late, but Freddie does and the baby takes anything and everything. Freddie has been better this summer than ever before. Since the first box came I have played an occasional game of checkers with him while waiting for dinner and he becomes quite interested. But the best fun is to see him and Phip play. He is as serious as a judge and Phip “jumps” anywhere. Freddie at his game, with his chin held in his hand thinking of his best move, sometimes looks like a youthful Paul Morpley. Tomorrow we shall look for the “Bonne,” —and more corn! The rice is a delicious let-up but we must occasionally return to our old love. The pork is very fine—fully as good as that we had last year.

P.G.C. Sunday August 13, 1876 Extremely warm this morning; showery and squally at noon and after and a [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Freddie and Phip, proposing to visit Lockhart and see what sort of a place he had. As I reached the wharf Fred was gazing at a schooner opposite Platts Point evidently waiting for wind and tide to change. I boarded her after 2 ½ miles of warm rowing and found a big box and a small one directed to me: the large one from Mrs. Reeve and the small one (a cubic of a foot and a half) from Johnnie. I had to unpack the large box on board and transfer to the white boat. First I found a grand oaken wagon for Freddie and Phip, large enough to hold two youngsters at once. Everything was complete even to iron lined hubs, good tires and iron “5th wheel.” The axles were of iron and all about it substantial and serviceable. And then I found some grocery packages: a dozen of broma, 4 packages of cornstarch, 4 of Farina, 5 lbs oatmeal, 7 lbs granulated sugar, some pilot biscuit, 4 lbs of tea, a small box of candies—enough for a bite—2 bottles of davisons 2 of jam (one jammed and busted) and last of all a dozen of claret (hi! hi!) and I think that is all. Johnnies box, which I opened afterward had some few delicacies—canned salmon and such like—with a big tin box of nice crackers and two smaller ones of wine biscuit. There was also a couple of cans of corn. Freddie took over a wagon load of a selected variety and the remainder we kept for a commencement in our new kitchen, or to eat before that time if the cooperative larder runs low. After loading up the boat and Lockharts coming out to the “Laura” we made our call. I got in first. The boat went through a school of mullet and then through tall grass. I landed on a pile of rough edge and saw a big ‘gater—with both eyes and nostrils—spoiling for want of salt! Then along a rough path way, among palmetto roots to the shanty. This shanty stood near the only pine on the clearing and 60 feet from shore. It was wider at the base than where the roof joined on. It toppled a little toward the north and was built of rough edge, sides and roof as well. On the northerly side and in front I counted 40 join which were raised against that side [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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was an oddly built structure the corner posts of the house being supported only by terra (not firma) but the reverse. Eight small pigs in a row were sunning themselves near the stove which, with 4 feet of pipe, was placed on the right of the door way. The nanny goat (which Freddie tried to purchase!) stood in the door way and about 80 hens and chickens were trotting about, in and out of the house and under and around it. Off to the left a cow stable (equally as primitive as the shanty) with a rough edge board fence enclosing 50 square feet stood by itself. Among other live stock was a sleek looking feminine hound, who barked gloriously as I came up. Mrs. Lockhart met me at the door and explained that this was only a temporary shanty, the main building for them Lockhart was going to erect up on the ridge. A few moments passed and then Lockhart came. He insisted on showing me his “garden” and trees. The garden was in a shell mound and very rich soil. The trees were 8 feet apart, not in line, and planted among palmettos and oak roots! I am afraid trees wont do well thusly! Then we refused an invitation to dinner and rowed home against tide and wind. We had a bottle of claret for dinner, stewed tommies, corn- beef, rice, sweet potatoes, fresh bread and Cor-fee. It was a jolly spread and we enjoyed it. As I was taking my siesta and pipe in the steamer chair on the newly laid portion of the front piazza I saw an arrival at Freds. Ely had walked down from Whiddens, leaving there at 9 o’c. He wanted to do a weeks work @ $1 per day and Fred and I have each reckoned up our “spare cost” and engaged him to the extent of six dollars worth for putting up potatoes or grubbing for a new rice or sugar patch as the weather permits. Ely on his own place grubbed up 2 acres in a month and I expect to see a big improvement here. The “Laura” came up at 3 o’c and Ely and I boarded her as she run aground on the bar. I went to pay freight bill of $1.75. The skipper and crew were all higgledy piggley and I waited until a heavy squall struck

Page 154 the little schooner, rained poured down in solid sheets, the white boat took water and Ely and I got soaked with the rest—I mostly by trying to take care that our boat should not “rub.” Then during a let-up we crossed to De Coster’s got the mail and returned. Your letter of July 27 with $5. enclosed was my only letter. I thank you for the money, more particularly as I know how hard you have to scrape to get it. In regard to other points in your letter I will write seperately [sic] and particularly. Ely and I took supper with Fred and then tired out I have “sot down” to write before going to bed. While I was crossing the “grounds” to day John Lomond and two of the Youmans came to get the mustang, coming by the woods. John says that as he saw me moving along, he also saw between us one of the biggest bucks yet just outside the fence. The mustang will go up to Camp Whiffle and be “swum” across to the other side. Somebody has seen “signs” of “hog” on Punta Gorda and one man saw two white pigs fat and hearty with Fred’s marks on them.

P.G.C.Monday August 14, 1876 As I sit down to write Ely stands on the little wharf making cracker music with his “holler.” It sails sweetly out on the water and goes trippingly through the pines at the back and repeats itself with a musical echo. It isn’t operatic, but it sounds very pleasing as darkness settles down on P.G.C. Fred and Ely have made the mud fly today. This evening 275 vines were “sot out” and a hundred more would have been added had not a small deluge burst upon us about ½ past 2. Ely was up before daylight and pegging away at the new rice patch. He had grubbed up entirely about 20 feet square before breakfast but the “sand gnats” drove him to potato hilling. They, the “s.g.’s” were worse than ever before. Now what he has grubbed is under water from the deluge. This morning I only put up 60 feet. I was so lame from boils that I had to give up. In the afternoon I did some necessary carpentering and let that suffice [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 155 thermometer in the sun and it registered 119°. But the sun was not very “powerful” at the time. We’ll try again on a hot day. The rain this afternoon lasted nearly two hours and came down heartily. After tea while sitting in the house at Fred’s Ely talked some. He says his rice is “waist high and looks mighty fine” and “is as green as pizen.” “It looks pooty.” Our rice looks pretty well and is about 2 feet high on the average. With more rain it will come to a head finely. As it is it will make quite a show. The Chupas bed is about defunct. A grass similar in shape and as much like Chupas as possible started up in the bed and it was impossible to weed it; you could’n’t tell which was Chupas and which grass, so Fred had to let it alone and it did not prosper. The strange grass had an almondy root also and even in biting it you could hardly decide. Fred shot two feathers out of each wing of a brown curlew with his rifle today and the bird went off to get anew [sic] set. Mosquitos bright and lively tonight. We may have more rain tomorrow.

P.G.C. Tuesday August 15, 1876 Every evening following a fall of rain, as the sun sets, dress parade occurs in the upper head. I haven’t been an eye-witness but judging by the sounds I should imagine that all the rag pedlars [sic] of Christendom with a varied string of cracked bells each were marching in review before the ghosts of Seminole and other war days. Such a clatter you never heard. It is incessant and in the puddles left by the shower about our place the little piping frogs add their treble, so very ear piercing at times as to be almost unbearable. This morning it was warm and sunny; clouds gathered at noon and rain fell all the afternoon above Coon Key and off in the woods beyond De Costers. At supper time it reached us and an overflow of potato beds succeeded. Ely and Fred put up 500 feet of potatoes and put out over 300 [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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having loaned the large one to Fred to help along the combined havoc, but I had to give up. My feet hurt me so that after listing 50 feet it made me sick with the pain and I laid by. Subsequently I put down piazza boards and nearly finished the front piazza. Freddie, Phip and the baby helped and rather enjoyed the hammering and noise. Ben did some washing and Anna cooked the meals. Ben also, as customary cleaning up and setting the table for the next bite. I feel tonight as if I had put up a thousand feet of potatoes and wish most decidedly that I had. Ely has just had his “holler” and imitated a “Ki-i” for Neuse’s benefit and night has dropped his petticoat over us. The boys have gone to wash and I will soon follow, with “Mistress Howard.” Mullet are running today in small schools. Sand-flies swarm.

P.G.C. Wednesday August 16, 1876 Sunny and mostly cloudy with no rain. Ely worked for Fred during the morning and then spoke of going home tomorrow. My three days work from him were therefore sacrificed. But he came over this afternoon and I got half a day. I was extremely disappointed for I should have had 1500 feet more of potatoes by his help. As it was we both made 300 feet this afternoon and “planted out” the vines. It was a good 50 cents worth. Sand flies bothered in early morning and also after tea. This evening Ely makes his mark as a story teller. “My uncle Ely,” he said, “was a good story teller; you ought to have hern him. He once told how he was off on a cattil hunt and comin’ to a rich spot havin’ some punkin seeds he planted some into the spot. Some time after he was a huntin’ some hogs and as he was a passin’ the spot where he planted the seeds he saw a log across the stream and thought he would go over. When he got across he saw a big mound and he clim on to hit and then he heard pigs a squealin, but he could’n’t see nary [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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finds a hole in the mound and in he crept. Would you believe it, gentlemen there was the pigs a eatin the pumpkin seeds that grew on the inside of that big yaller mound.” this was a sample story and I give it. Freddie is anxious to go home with Ely “in the morning’” when Ely starts “at the first chicken crow” and has ready a small watermelon to eat on the way. Ely says that his great ambition is to see “a train of cyars and a goat.” He would then be satisfied with life in Florida. Later in the year he will try to come down again. In the meantime we will dig ourselves—at least I will.

P.G.C. Thursday August 17, 1876 Warm today with a full supply of sunshine. All the morning we had a “glass kane” with plenty of sandflies, but about noon and after we had a breeze and the s.f.’s departed. I made no hills to=day but weeded a number of the more weedy hills and finished up with carpenter work. Ely left before daylight and expected to get home before 10 o’c. He says he “puts up,” with a horse and plow, 1.300 feet of potatoes in a day. He has about 4.000 feet to finish up and he claims that he went home to do that. I wish he could have stopped his 3 days with me. Still, he promises to come again later in the season.

P.G.C. Friday August 18, 1876 Mullet are running rapidly—down our gullets. We swallowed the 20th of Megale’s bringing today. Weather warm but cooled by a fine westerly breeze. To night, sitting by our double window the cool air is very refreshing and the heavy rustle of pines and breaking waves on the beach breaks the monotony. Only 90 feet of potatoes today. Felt played out and sick at stomach. Something wrong and tried to sleep it off before dinner. Even Ely has these attacks and he is one of the “activest” men around. He cures himself by giving up, taking a nap and thus overcoming it. Tomorrow I hope to do better—if boils let up, as well as they have today.

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P.G.C. Saturday August 19, 1876 Warm yet breezy all day. Strong winds from “down the bay.” Put in about 80 vines today in hill “put up” during the day and dug the products of nearly as many “holdovers” for tomorrow’s breakfast and dinner. So far I have up between 4000 and 5000 feet, perhaps a trifle more. During the night a shower of rain sprinkled the “airth” but not to any great extent. The frogs don’t hold high carnival any more. Nature is again beginning to subside into a more quiet mood. The sunset tonight was lovely and Ben and I enjoyed it on the new portion of our front piazza. 3 shoots [?] appear above the surface today from seeds planted, July 14.

P.G.C. Sunday August 20, 1876 A day of threatening rain clouds overhead moving rapidly sudden gusts of wind from North and N.W. and only an occasional ½ dozen rain drops. One squall, at dinner time brought in a small sloop, with her sails hanging loose and a yard or two only near deck catching the wind. The bay actually foamed with white caps at the time. Two men were on board and she passed us rapidly and disappeared up the little channel above Bird Key. At dinner we disposed of the last remains of the big rooster that you brought down. He was not tough and the rice and curry that were arranged about the corpse made the funeral pass off with considerable eclat. It was a choice between killing him or cooping him and feeding him and we did the former. He was so jealous in his domestic arrangements that the young and rising generation of roosters had a hard time of it. He would’n’t allow of the least love making and he had therefore to “step down and out” To-night the mosquitoes are nipping my ancles [sic] and shins and I may as well say “Good evenin’.”

P.G.C. Monday August 21, 1876 Before undressing last evening notice a bright light off Platts gradually approaching. Supposing it to be

Page 159 the “Bonne” I put on my shoes again and rush over to Freds. The deacon is in bed but gets up. The light slowly reaches up to almost De Costers and then disappears. Sudden flashes of lightning light up the opposite shore but we cannot distinguish sails and the light is finally given up as a will o’ the wisp of an enlarged variety. This morning, at daylight, I scan the shore and up behind the Keys but no sails show. I intended to cross over but did not feel able to. All day long I have been in slippers my bandaged feet not allowing shoes. I could hardly walk and had to arouse myself with a little carpentering and a great deal of reading. Throughout the day rain has threatened but failed to justify. Heavy clouds rolled over the eastern sky and equally heavy winds blew first from west and then north and afterwards east, but no rain came. Fred put up about 30 feet of potatos and did a large amount of “listing” and I looked at him from a distance and wished I could do some too. Fred thinks he has about 3.200 feet of hills up now and wants to make it 3500. Sandflies again plenty. We hear now that the “regulators” propose to regulate Key! He needs it bad. Or, rather I should say that the “moderators” propose to fix him, these latter believing J.B.K. to be a prime mover of the former party.

P.G.C. Tuesday August 22, 1876 I have been a slippery cuss again all day, doing only a few house chores and crossing the bay with Freddie and Phip. The day was so lovely that we started over after breakfast. De Coster had been again at Pine Level. Bartholf is down with typhoid fever and very sick. I talked lumber with De Coster. He will saw my “bill” for $16 per delivered on my shore. I think I will order about 2500 feet and 1000 of rough edge, as the chances are slim of my getting even that for my kitchen and store house. His hold on the mill expires on Oct 2 and it is slow work getting lumber even after it is ordered. I went to the mill before going over and found that there is material all ready sawed to make a

Page 160 store house, with rough edge roof. No logs are expected down for 2 weeks and Gillis talks of giving up. tomorrow I will endeavor to select enough to finish the store house and leave an order for the remainder. As soon as our thing come and we can commence getting our own meals we shall do so in the store house and take time to build the kitchen again, but on a reduced scale and different from the other, yet roomy cosy and convenient. I’ll send you a plan by this mail or next. the store house I’ll make 10 x 12 and Brenda is anxious for me to commence that immediately so that we can relieve Fred and Anna as soon as possible and be able to gain our old home footing in a measure once more. It will be close quarters for a time but we shall enjoy it all the better when we branch out. De Coster has a new idea, —something grand—and this is it. As soon as he can he will put a new bottom, new sails, new masts and new rigging (!) on the “Santa Maria” and start Pepi off the Uncatan for a big selection of tropical plants and seeds: cocoa nut plants bananas, bread fruit etc etc. All Hickory Bluff is interested and agree to help the scheme. I am afraid it will never come to anything, but I told De Coster that when he sailed Fred and I would help with an order for some of the spoils also. Curry was at the mill as “boss carpenter” overseeing 4 men “jacking lumber” under an impromptu shed. This lumber is for the new court house and will be hauled up all the way. He and De Coster could’n’t agree on freight by “Santa Maria” to Fort Winder. We all got back in time for dinner and ate our canned corn beef without being “pizoned.” I brought back two pockets full of limes and a few guavas. During the afternoon a small sloop, the same that went up river in the squall, stopped at the wharf and unloaded 15 cocoa nuts and a bag of corn—also some salts and a bottle

Page 161 of seltzer for my pet boils. The letters and papers went across, in another big squall to De Costers. The boat had hardly got ½ was over when “Buffalo Bill” and his mate rode in from the woods; or rather in came James Youmans and “Washy” on two fine little horses. They wanted to trade and offered a fine built little pony (stallion) half Canadian and half “cracker” for $100 or $115 with saddle and bridle. It was as black as a coal and as pretty as a picture, about 7 or 8 years old, besides being gentle and “sold for no fault.” I rode him but he would not move lively for me. Youmans mounted him and started off on the jump about the field like a wild indian hitting the beasts flanks with his hat and riding up to us on the full run and then within 10 feet bringing him up on his haunches: “Yes, gentlemen thair aint no finer horse for plowing and easy ridin’ in Manatee County.” He would have suited either Fred or me—but, we couldnt dicker. Ely had told Youmans that I spoke of getting a horse one of these days and he came down from above Hunters Creek to trade. I wasn’t quite ready. This afternoon we had high winds, a big squall and a little rain! But the day has been quite a pleasant one otherwise. The “Bonne” is—or was—at Punta Rassa. She sent her C.H. freight by the little sloop and will come in on her next trip. Rowan’s “Mary” went down the bay this morning. Planted 30 lime seeds to day— the product of 10 limes.

P.G.C. Wednesday August 23, 1876 This morning we had delightful, although a rather warm, weather. This afternoon slight showers sandwiched between sunshine with a heavy salting of clouds. Tonight it is cool, misty and threatening a big rain again. After breakfast I started for the mill and De Coster with Freddie and Phip. We found letters and papers to Aug 4. Then D.C. and I walked up to the mill to overhaul lumber and select enough for a store-house. It was beastly hot and I was

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weak from a dose (and certain results) of Seltzer. the sun made me sick and after hauling the scantling all over could not get what I wanted. I left my “bill” for De Coster to saw out—when the logs come—and walked back to his house. Then I got a junk of turtle went back to mill agin in the boat had a bushel of corn ground and rowed home. I was clean tuckered out and even my lovely dinner with the two boys did not add mych strength to my “weakened form.” I had to lay by all the afternoon and feel quite chipper tonight. I shall reduce my Seltzer dose to-morrow. George says in his letter that you don’t hear often from us. We never neglect, at least I never do, the opportunity to send. It is only the past week or two that Pine Level mail connections have been reopened and it is hard work to find out beforehand when anyone goes “thataway.” And I dont like to let my letters lay around loose at De Costers waiting for a “mail.” About Saturday the “Mary” will go to Manatee again and I’ll try to get up a batch for you and send. She has now gone around to Fort Meyers. In sending overland in any direction now by chance parties, he who act as friendly carrier has often to swim a creek or a river and the letter runs a chance of getting soaked.

P.G.C. Thursday August 24, 1876 There is much howling of “rude Boreas” as I prepare to jot down the days items. It sounds northery and the air is cool besides. At noon we only struck 80° and in early morning it was quite wintry(!) The breeze from N.E. has been extremely strong and well kept up all day. The tide was low and a touch of winter weather—Florida winter— greeted us in August. Fred managed to put up 300 feet of hill, having his listing already done. I only did 90 and found that hard work. The ground was quite dry.

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During the afternoon I planted my 8 cocoa nuts—3 in front, 20 feet apart and a bunch of 3 and another of 2 nearer Freds. Fred got his out yesterday and also some “pinders” — (peanuts). The seltzer seems to hit the “biles” hard. They weaken rapidly and are gradually disappearing. But I weaken too in the transition. Master Harry has been fretful all day—I think in consequence of a tooth arrival. Ben too has felt under the weather for the last week or so from her old kidney trouble and a “sense of goneness” added. We are a sort of “low down” crowd in this shanty just at present but we hope to “pick up” soon. Some mosquitos got in the house today and they nip “powerful” just now. The usual refuge moves me to its sweet repose!

P.G.C. Friday August 25, 1876 A sort of odd day: Cool; with much sunshine in spots warm at noon, a few rain clouds and a slight shower or two in afternoon and cool with a couple of sprinkles after tea. The “Bonne” got in this morning and anchored off De Costers until afternoon. The tide was low and wind ahead and she waited. Then she used up the greater part of the afternoon in showing Capt Nelson’s seamanship in taking and missing stays opposite us. At dark she reached the Hewes House point and disappeared. Fred and I went over after supper after letters and found—nary. She missed letters, as well as stays. De Coster says she will be down on Monday and be off to K.W. with Platts cattle. Mrs D.C. was sick in bed with a headache and the little D.C.’s showing their “little concerns” through dirty and holey drapery. Fred in the potato line put up about 130 feet and I about 90. The ground was hardly damp enough for the purpose, but we took the chances.

P.G.C. Saturday August 26, 1876 There was a camp-meetings of thunder clouds above [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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the keys and along De Costers baygirt shores all the afternoon and at supper time a few rain drops from the overflow dropped in to tea. But while a soaking must have resulted within 2 miles N and NE. of us we only had our clothes sprinkled. During the morning it was extremely warm and the tide was high where yesterday it was low. It was a fair working day but I could’n’t seem to do much. I had no strength and potato hilling was extremely galling. I put up only 45-feet and dug about 60, getting enough potatoes for tomorrow’s breakfast and dinner and a few over for Monday. Once a week is about as often as I have dared to dig any and these I select from my West India holdovers that the pigs helped to weed for me when you were down. The new ones look thrifty in spots, especially those first planted. I wont estimate on results, that I’ll leave to the future. At any rate I am sure we shall have, both Fred and I, all we can eat ourselves and if we have any over so much the better. If I had felt well during this summer I could, I think, have made things do much better. Since the kitchen “burned down I don’t think I have been absolutely free of boils, either in large or small number. At one time I had no less than 30, the greater number on my hands and feet. With army shoes, full of holes, and my feet in wet rags I have done a great majority of my potato hilling and hole digging. At times it was rather tough! The “biles” are now reduced to 3 and I hope to get them off in a day or two by seltzer doses. This seems to have better effect than any thing I have yet taken, but it also seems to take all my strength away. A small sloop came in this morning and anchored opposite Pepi’s house. Another at noon came by and went up river. These little sails make the harbor lively. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Sunday August 27, 1876 The Bonne (10 A.M.) is opposite the Hewes House coming down. All are preparing letters. I hurriedly write a few items. Tin ware in Key West costs more than that in New York and is very poor stuff. Stove pipe I might get there to advantage. The freight on tin ware when got at one place and properly packed amounts to very little. From KW each piece would come seperately. [sic] Tell Mother I intended to write to her and Em but the Bonne interrupts. The most needful thing we want is a stove. The next a pump. The well water is very bad. If you can manage it send a driving well. If the pump contains greater capacity—on the same sized pipe get such. This A.M. we all feel well and hopeful. The day is lovely and a cool northerly wind blows. Ever etc. Jarvee

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P.G.C. Sunday Aug 27, 1876 We have all celebrated Em’s birthday by writing letters. This evening after supper Fred and I rowed up to the Hewes House and placed a package of 16 on board. It was considerably after dark when we found the schooner and dense black clouds in the north, with frequent lightning flashes, threatened a soaking, but we got there dry, and found Addison on board and Platt with his cattle penned on shore trying to build a wharf to get them on board. There was quite an assemblage of crackers and niggers about 14 all told. We had a long talk on politics and Florida matter and at 8 o’c started back. Another cloud in the east was bearing down upon us, belching forth flashes of flame and roaring with thunder tones, looking black and heavy with wet, as we started. Addison said we had better wait but we thought we could beat in the race home and so pulled manfully. In ¾ of an hour we drew the boat up on the ways and got indoors before any rain touched us and then we only got the tail end of the shower. Our old friend the “quack,” Mr. Horned Owl was perched on a tree near the path as I went indoors and hurredly [sic] loading up I went back and fired at him, but he flew away, just as easy as he has from Fred’s rifle 3 or 4 times after dark. I believe he is the “old’m” and hard to kill. Just before ten Neuse “posted” a coon. Mr. C was perched on top of a post on Fred’s fence where it runs out in the water and “Neuse” barking furiously at him when Fred rushed down with his rifle. He fired too low and the poor Coon looked so good natured that Fred let him alone. We watched the fun between it and the dog. Gradually Mr. Coon would “walk” down the post, give a hoarse bark and rush back. Then he would try again and holding by his hind legs reach out forward like a monkey at Neuse, just touching the dog, while the old scalawag would look into the future with lolling tongue as if a coon was’n’t within 5 miles of him. Then both would bark and up [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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would go Cooney to his high perch. This sort of fighting (!) was kept up for an hour. Nick came over and laughed at the fun and we gave it up as tiresome. But as we got up from table the dog came in and Mr. Coon had left.

P.G.C. Monday August 28, 1876 Either last nights rowing or something else has interfered materially with my pet boils. All now are on my left leg near the ankle: But during the night although carefully washed and naked in wet cloths they become very painful. This morning I could just hobble and my ankle was double its ordinary size. I kept up the bathing process all day and kept quiet and tonight the pain is gone and the boils doing nicely—I can’t account for such action. Naturally I did little work—none out of doors. I have tried hard to get rid of these nuisances, but it seems almost an impossibility. Actually my leg this mg. was as bad as Curry’s. During the morning a dozen buzzards collected in a dead tree at “Camp Whidden” and we imagine that Neuse after all killed Mr. Coon after we left. To day we have had delightful, but warm weather with temperature ranging from 82° to 87°. A “lovely breeze” has blown all day. Also a showery visit of rain came in afternoon, giving an inch of damp surface. Fred cut some okra and it was made a side vegetable dish at dinner. The flavor was delicate, but “fruit” stringy. Next time Fred will try more tender pods. The “Bonne” still hovers around the Hewes House. Addison having found what we could’n’t on a certain night is going to hold on to it. By the way Capt Nelson says that potatoes were $1.25 per bush in K.W. and Irish Potatoes $4.50 per bbl. He also said the price has not been lower than 75 cents per bush for sweet potatos this season.

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P.G.C. Tuesday August 29, 1876 Again I am housed by pain and boils. Last night I dressed my leg and felt quite relieved of pain. Then I “danced the glime [?]” and started for bed—when the rocker of Ben’s chair gave me the hardest crack I have had yet. It struck the most tender spot and the most excrutiating [sic] pain followed. It was positively awful. It ached all night and this morning I found the inflamation [sic] worse than ever. By care and wet rags I have reduced matters to a proper basis and if I don’t start another earthquake tonight I hope to try a little potato hilling tomorrow. After dinner we had quite a nice fall of rain and the ground will be in condition to work for a day or two. Fred got up about 80 feet before supper taking advantage of the droppings from above. This evening we had a most lovely sky. In the east, delicately tinted clouds, of much variety loomed over the horizon. From one pink cloud rain was falling also pink tinted, but where it fell heaviest it was rainbow tinted not faintly but broadly and positively. The sun threw heavy golden rays through a cloud rift and purple, violet and pale gray clouds of odd shapes surrounded. From east to west all was color and the heavens seemed dressed for a wedding. Ben and I sat on the piazza and enjoyed the show. A strong breeze was blowing and the dark water with its white caps, the distant line of pines on De Costers shore and the darker foreground all combined to give us a vigorous picture—particularly for a flat country like Florida. But the curtain is drawn now, everything looks gloomy and cold and the half moon is struggling to cast a ray or two between the clouds as they rush past overhead. A few stray drops of rain putter on the roof and a dozen sandflies are trying to commence housekeeping in nose, eyes and ears. I hav’n’t much use for a nunnery; my doll is not stuffed with sawdust, but I think I’ll go to bed.

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P.G.C.Wednesday August 30, 1876 I forgot to state last night that the “Bonne” sailed yesterday morning with Platt’s cattle for Key West. She wont come in her next trip, but Addison will get all our freight (if any) and I sent to Phillips for 20 more “foreign cocoa nuts and also for $1 worth of Havana oranges “for to eat and to plant.” There has been much warm weather today with a fair show of cloudy sky. Fred put up 125 feet of hill and I about 140. The boils held back some but by frequent cold water libations I managed to get a little show. At noon we caught a gopher who was taking a lunch off Freds new vines. After tea Fred “sketched” and tomorrow we will have some gopher stew. While waiting for the breakfast bell I saw 28 quail in one “bunch” cross the path. They were nearly all very small fry but they will make a better broil by waiting a few weeks. I commenced yesterday preparing traps for future use. No rain fell but some has threatened to. It may come yet as the western sky is heavy with clouds and the wind comes from the same quarter. Besides the distant thunder rumbles seem to come nearer every moment. Mosquitoes scarce but sandflies plenty. Our sapadillo poked his head up above ground this morning in my “seed pen.”

P.G.C. Thursday August 31, 1876 The last day of summer—rose tint sunset and all—has faded and gone. Tomorrow we enter upon the “fall and winter season” —in name but no in fact. The hottest day of the season, seemingly, was this, and yet the Mercury didn’t quite touch 90°. A slight shower came at tea time and a most indescribable sunset, full of purple, pink, green and gold followed. We had our gopher for dinner and while digesting it saw its ghost at my vines. I rushed out and found gopher No 2. As it comes so close on No 1. Fred appointed Freddie

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gopher-keeper and made a menagerie of him in a barrel. He will keep well and can’t go far. Smoke? So far as potato planting for the day is concerned Fred listed and I put up. My “put” was only 125 today and that seemed hard work. But the “field” grows gradually larger. There is one point in potato planting we learned from Ely that we both wished we had known earlier. By leaving one end of a vine out we have but half the number of potatoes that grow if both ends project. Vines should be 2 ½ feet long for planting and jammed in directly in the center some 8 inches, leaving the 2 ends out about the same distance. Since then we have followed Ely’s directives. The vines look more thrifty done “thataway” and send out creepers faster. Live and learn! To day the “Laura” went out; perhaps never to return. Half is owned by Driggers and the other half was bought at auction by Manuel Gongalez for $275. and Driggers is willing to sell his half at same price I believe.

P.G.C. Friday September 1, 1876 Excessively warm and quiet. Temperature 90° and no wind. Ground dry and no potatoes for use. Fred put up 40 feet and gave it up. Commenced on skiff. Dont propose to devote all my time to it. It will serve to vary the monotony. When done we’ll “go a fishin!” Quail in plenty we find them everywhere. The boils had quite a rest today and feel much better. Only one seems inflamed tonight. “Mary” went up river today. This must be a new route to Manatee as De Coster said she would go there on her return from Fort Myers.

P.G.C. Saturday September 2, 1876 This morning we were visited by a lengthened ‘glass kane.” It was hot and then hotter until @ 3 o’c it was hottest, the ther. marking 92 ½°. Then a gentle breeze wafted [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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the bay. More wind, with a rush of thunder clouds overhead followed. This evening it became cool and Brenda and I have been enjoying a little Florda life cloud watching at sunset and ditto by moonlight on the front piazza: There were no mosquitoes, the youngsters were in bed and a delightful breeze was blowing. In the heat of the day I crossed to De Coster’s; in the white boat. I first went to the mill. All lumber for my preliminary kitchen Gillis promised for Monday night. Whidden and Ely were there preparing a raft to take up the river to their landing. I arranged with Whidden to get out my kitchen posts when he came down for mullet. At De Costers I found Mr and Mrs and the 4. D.C. had been planting bananas. He was covered with dirt, red in the face and perspiry. Afterward he showed me the result. Two diminutive bulbs had been put in Mother Earth beside his corncrib! Then we went for guavas and limes. The former were rather unripe. I filled my pockets however and returned in season for supper. I learned that Bartholf and family had become neighbors. “Old man” B is much better and improving. We are now, according to D.C., going to have a post office, on the bay! De C. has sent for a ship carpenter (?) to rig up the “Santa Maria” and grand times are in store for Charlotte Harbians!! At present D.C. has orders on hand for about 20.000 feet of lumber—and six logs to saw it out of; with but a chance prospect of any more coming.Them’s biz!

P.G.C. Sunday September 3, 1876 We are actually having a drouth in the rainy season. the ground seems unusually dry and the potato hills grow powdery. A few vines have dried up and those planted in July are doing nicely while the August vines are in a sort of status quo. The usual storm cloud appears in the east

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with lightning and thunder: but the strong wind that has been blowing all the afternoon will prevent its coming here. We have experienced another hot day, with a “glass kane” morning and a white cap afternoon. The ther. was just above 90° but Oh! how refreshing was the breeze during the latter part of the day. I could’n’t resist a nap on the front piazza. Two more chickens passed away in an appetising [sic] manner today—and yet, there seem to be as many as ever in the coop. They were flanked by sweet potatoes, rice fried and coffee, with a prime watermelon from my patch to top off with. “Mary” came down stream this evening. She is now tacking to quarter at the Waldron Place. To day I had much time to think over matters and things. I imagined Tilden and the democratic party in power next year. From all I read that seems reasonable. In such case will not your political friends be willing to give you some appointment, at home or abroad. There are a number of foreign offices of fair salary that might prove pleasant and valuable. No doubt you have thought of it too and the chances thereto. Whitehouse, Eastern, even Fernandy Wood and others will no doubt help matters. Of course you know best, but in all these matters the first applicants get the best show. Don’t fail to be prepared. If you get a consulship I’ll loan you my swallowtail and the whole rig! I sincerely hope something worth having will turn up—and also for Bags too. There are many naval positives: paymasters and such, that don’t require an Annapolis education to qualify the applicant. I should think such a position could be had by jerking the proper wires. All of course in case our man wins. Fred and I will try to drop a vote for Tilden but I am afraid we will find it a difficult matter. The nearest polling place will be Ogden and we both may not

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be able to leave at the same time and one may find it a difficult trip to take. The state will surely go democratic, as at last accounts there were two rep. nominees and one dem. Still, if there is a possibility of putting in a vote I’ll try to do it. In “kitchen” affairs I have also thought much, but I cant think to the point until I get letters by next mail. In order to be in readiness I shall try this week to get up my store house to use as a preliminary kitchen and to have ready for what may turn up. You can possibly imagine our anxiety in the premises and we want, as soon as possible to keep house again and do our own cooking—and relieve Fred and Anna. I only hope Mr. F. has been kindly disposed. If not—you can raise the money on the silver and books, send us among my list of things what you think best. If the worst comes we can get along with a coffeepot tea kettle, stew pan, gridirin [sic] frying pan and a few plates and knives, forks etc. Do as you think best.

P.G.C. Monday September 4, 1876 We have just been having a grand performance of the “Battle of Prague” without the “cries of the dead and wounded.” Heaven’s artillery opened fire on us at supper time and continued roars of thunder with a heavy downfall of rain, made a fearful din in Fred’s log kitchen. The rain came first from the west then north and finally east and south. It still comes but more moderately. The first rain came with fearful winds. On going home for umbrellas, cloaks and rubbers I found my front door blown open and the house swimming in wet. The infant Micawber was fast asleep in his hammock and enjoying his part of the exibition [sic] after the manner that Horace Greely [sic] enjoyed Italien [sic] Opera. Through the rain I brought my family home and the entire body was “dem’d damp moist and unpleasant.” The mites have retired and Brenda is following and I must end up soon in the same direction.

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The downpour has finished off the surface nicely for a few more potatoes which Fred and I will endeavor to put in tomorrow and next day. It was so warm dry and parched that I commenced to prepare to begin some building this morning. First I built me a carpenter’s bench on the front piazza. Then I took in hand the side boards of the new skiff and made plenty of shavings—which are now scattered all over Christendom. But my carpenter shop is in a nice cool place! Ben has concluded to be in the fashion and has adopted one of my pet boils. It has taken up its quarters, —not by halves, but goes the whole hog—on her big toe; and she is about as lame as she can be. I am getting rid of mine altogether they only show “scabs” now. The mill has not been running today and I therefore did not go over. It was fortunate I didn’t, for I might not have got back. Rowan’s Mary sailed “soon” in the morning before we could get our letters on board.

P.G.C. Tuesday September 5, 1876 This morning the weather was cool and pleasant. Our floors were dry and the earth outside jolly wet. I started on potatoes and so did Fred. We each got up about 100 feet. Most of my afternoon was passed in planting old and new hills. I must have cut and planted over 400 vines. In some hills for a distance of 40 feet all vines had died out—but this occurred only in the later hills. All others are gradually increasing. The rain will help matters very much. Fred also had to do as much re-planting on his. Four wood doves visited the plantation to-day. Where are the rest? Plenty of rain today at De Coster’s: none here. Ben wishes me to state that we can now afford to keep a pony phaeton. Her foot was so lame that I took her to supper in Freddies little wagon today. There was’n’t much room to spare, however!

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P.G.C. Wednesday September 6, 1876 We have several shower visits today and the ground has therefore kept in fair potato condition. I managed to put up 150 feet and planted the hills with West Indias. The sky was cloudy most of the time and working was not so much of a task as usual. Fred has finished potato hilling and played the character of Old Father Time with his scythe, but unlike his prototype going to grass himself instead. There is no smell of new mown hay “over you,” but instead a mouldy dampish aroma from the dying “spear.” By the way I forgot to mention that the first “fire in the woods” occurred above Bird Key on Monday, just before the rain came. It burned nicely and made much smoke. Although the bay water was fresh and black a fine run of mullet—not in schools—went up along shore this evening. I tried to get a shot at one but the water was not clear enough to show him up. Mosquitoes and sand flies not at home nor have they been for quite a while. This is a luxury to us. Hope it will continue. Mem: Ely gave one reason why he wanted to go home. He wanted to “sit over his rice” to save it.

P.G.C. Thursday September 7, 1876 The piping of frogs by the million and an over flowed “door yard” are just outside. There is much wet all over Punta Gorda Chica. Just before supper a regular deluge began to fall; the rain poured in torrents and every thing was drenched again. The walk was flooded and the potato hills are divided by long straight brooks—which may contain fish if the rain holds. It is still raining rapidly but occasional glimpses of the opposite shore break through the mist. During a let-up in the storm the youngsters came home and did not get wet. But Ben had to adopt rubber boots and rubber coat and wade. I did also without getting much dampened. This morning I went to De Costers and then to the mill. Tomorrow I will have to make a day of it. All the pieces for my

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store house are sawed, but the seasoned lumber for floor and siding is covered with 5 feet of boards that should have been piled elsewhere. I shall pick them out tomorrow and the lighter will bring all over as soon as Whidden comes down with a couple of steers he is to bring De Coster. Whidden is expected Saturday. Next week I hope to put up our preliminary kitchen and be ready for business. I hope there wont be any delay in getting our cooking things. We have stopped too long already at Fred’s. He is very exacting, as you know, on all points and both Brenda and I would feel so much more comfortable on our own dunghill. I heard of a piece of news at De Costers which I will diarise [sic]. Five men last Saturday came to Fort Winder on horseback. They had come from Gainesville to look up a rail-road route. They engaged Rowan’s “Mary” to take them down the bay and they have been nearly a week hunting deep water spots where a terminus to the R.R. could be planted and where connection with steamer travel could be had. Our man represented himself as the son of the capitalist who endorses the scheme and represents a wealth of two millions, another was Chief Engineer of the proposed R.R. Two were Chicago men; one a Mass. man, and the other two from Phila. They did not make full exploration, but stated that the route would be positively agreed upon to Charlotte Harbor with a branch road to Tampa and the line would be in active operation in 18 months. This latter fact they guaranteed. In a months time they will return and make more extended researches for the terminus and Cape Hayes, or perhaps the ---- side of Boca Grande, will be chosen. This is the gossip, as De Coster gives. I shall believe it when I hear the whistle of the locomotive. Still it is

Page 177 possible and even probable that they will accomplish the end in view. But I have heard so much about stage routes and RR. openings that I am rather skeptical until I see the result in full working order. But I tell it thee, as it was tolded me. Quien sabe? It may be. This evening the “Mary” came back from Fort Winder, having carried the railroad embassy up to their horses, during the night. She will now go to Punta Rassa for the Bonnies freight. If she don’t get out before I get over in the morning I’ll send this batch by “Mary.” Bartholf has resigned his position as County Clerk. Weeks wont settle after all on the bay. But 20 families (the same old story) will come with the railroad,—if they can get good places to settle. De Coster thinks we need “hotels” and wishes he had means to build one. The rail road men advised him to saw out plenty of lumber—it would all be needed! By the way I brought home 3 pockets and a pail of limes, lemons and guavas today.

P.G.C. Friday September 8, 1876 More wet has been the cry today. The potato vines look thrifty and the rice is beginning to “head.” What the crop of the latter will be we can tell better by and by. As an experiment I think it will lead to better results here after. This morning it was warm and the afternoon was showery. I crossed after breakfast to the mill, took my lunch and passed the day there. De C and I selected the lumber for my infant kitchen and I stacked it on the shore. It will be sent over in the lighter as soon as Whidden gets down with a yoke of steers to go on the return trip, either tomorrow or Monday. No work was going on at the mill. All hands had gone 5 miles down the bay to bring up the runaway lighter. Fanny has a baby 1 month old. It is “yaller.” Whore? We had our first guavas for tea tonight. Bully!

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P.G.C. Saturday September 9, 1876 The caravan has come in rather bedraggled tonight, but not to such an extent and sometime “previously before!” A shower of much intensity visited P.G.C. at supper time. The drops of rain were large, bright with the rays of the setting sun and many. Another overflow resulted. Ben came home in Freds rubber boots, Freddie waded, and I went barefoot carrying Phip. There is as much water now about us as at any time during the rainy season. Florida is a mighty unsartain territory! The frogs hold high carnival, the hand cart—or rag cart review in the upper head, is in full force and there is much noise outside. Thunder rolls are heard across the bay and an hour ago reports came like the sound of big guns from a frigate echoing among clouds instead of mountains. All day long the sun has shone brilliantly and the weather has been warm with few breezes. The bay was like a mirror until noon and an hour after and the big fish beyond the big wharf sailed along just under the surface leaving a trail like a small steamer’s. But the skiff was not finished and we took salt fish for supper to save the white boat—and Fred’s nerves. But in another week we shall be up and at ‘em. We “planted” to day. Fred got out some American Aloes and Bayonets along shore and he gave me 13 of the former to drop on my beach line. The [sic] he put in 125 guava seeds and I 165 of the same—large pear guavas. I have lately planted about 150 lime seeds and about 50 lemons. My first plant of guavas 31 out of 48 seeds are 2 inches high. Today I worked on the skiff side boards reducing inch plank to 5/8. I shall try to get it finished some time next week if nothing else needs my attention more. Mr. Morgan on the bay and Old Curry are in partnership in erecting the new Court House. They expect to clear about $1.200 between them on the job. Mr. M. I saw yesterday at the mill. He said “I reckon we’ll git the kiver on next week.”

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P.G.C. Sunday September 10, 1876 We were blessed (!) with a warm morning and this continued until late in the afternoon. The bay was smooth and rippleless and we stewed, broilled [sic] and fried. Just as we had become well baked, Whidden arrived with two steers for De Coster and riding on a horse with a red blanket saddle. The signal was hoisted for the lighter and my lumber and then we waited. Some rain fell and a breeze sprung up but no lighter came. The evening was pleasant and cool and I passed most of it listening at Freds open front door to Whiddens tales of terror. He gave a number of bear and tiger stories and amused us well. He was a “right powerful” humor for talk and his stories were good. I would like to repeat them but there must be a limit some where in my scribblings. Today Ben made some lemonade and I planted the pro-seeds 73 in all.

P.G.C. Monday September 11, 1876 No signs of the lighter from across the bay appearing Fred and Whidden crossed after breakfast to find out the reason. As they moved out in the stream Fred shouted “sail ho!” and later I saw a sloop heading in. When Whidden appeared out of doors this morning he found his horse had left for home. The two crossed to the mill. A great meeting was in progress. Cash had got a couple of steers as his back pay and was going to take them off before De Coster, who was, as usual, at Pine Level could return. George the presumed father of Fanny’s baby had started on foot to Pine Level to get a writ of attachment on De Costers lumber at the mill, all the rest were grumbling and Gillis proposed to leave unless there was some decided change for the better. As he expressed it: “First we were fed all right and had plenty. Then we were cut short a little and stood it, then a little more and we stood it and so

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on until this morning we got down to plain bread and nothing else and we can’t starve any more.” Everything but bread had given out in the ration line and Fred found Mrs De Coster and old Uncle Joe trying to scrape up enough of the breakfast leavings to get dinner with. Before leaving the mill John Lomond had commenced to load the lighter with my lumber but no lighter came up to dark. The sloop which was supposed to be Bill Allen’s with provisions in payment for lumber ordered for the new 12 mile creek bridge lay at anchor off Punta Gorda becalmed. But Whidden had heard that Bill Allen would take his provisions back again if the lumber was not ready. As the logs to form that lumber were not yet at the mill it is very doubtful whether Mrs. De Coster will profit by the provisions when they come, as she expects to. All was upside down, Rachel sick, and De Coster at Pine Level when he ought to be at home. Whidden vows he will so home to morrow if the lighter don’t come by breakfast time and take his steers with him. He is vexed to think he should take so much trouble and that De Coster should leave things in such a woful [sic] state at the mill. With Whidden I send a letter with a list of provisions etc. which you may receive before you do this, but to be certain I send it again duplicated. Fred and I feel sorry for our opposite neighbors but we can not give any help. Weather to day warm, quiet and glass calmy. Tonight not much better. Fred learned that Rowan’s “Mary” with Newt Waldron on board had left for Punta Rassa this morning early. She had been hiding up the little creek near their house and we were led to suppose she had gone long ago. She will be back Wednesday or Thursday with the Bonne’s freight and letters.

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P.G.C. Tuesday September 12, 1876 Just after sunrise this morning I took my glass and glanced millward, noticing the “lighter” with three men aboard coming over. As the breakfast bell rang I looked again and thought I distinguished my lumber on board. After breakfast the craft arrived and no lumber came with it. I was much vexed. The two steers were placed on it, acting wild and threatening to go overboard and back they went with Whidden to talk to the steers and keep them quiet. Gillis made many excuses for not bringing my lumber but promised faithfully to send over the evening or “soon in the morning.” Before I came indoors tonight I heard boards moving toward the mill and perhaps the lighter or raft is even now on the way. Whidden has not returned and he promised to come back this afternoon for his traps and bring his boat with him. During the afternoon Ely came down with Whidden’s stray horse and riding another. He saw 16 deer on the way. The white horse that broke loose Monday morning reached home last evening, and Ely was afraid Uncle Ed was drowned on the way. He posted off this morning and after waiting awhile rode home again “with the sun an hour and a hef” high. Poor Ely felt bad. He had lost by Indian fever his smart little pony last night and buried him this morning. He is probably home again by this time. Very warm all day and a “burst” of sand flies after dark.

P.G.C. Wednesday September 13, 1876 After writing my diary and having the sounds of lumber loading at sunset still ringing in my memory, I took up my location on the front piazza to listen for the approaching lighter. There was a conk horn sound down the bay, a big light at the Waldron place and two others besides De Coster’s visable [sic] on the opposite shore. The lowing of cattle, barking of

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dogs, and even men’s voices came over on the north west breeze which blew gently. The evening was remarkably quiet. I could hear Fred’s footsteps as he walked out to look at Whiddens horse and soon after I distinguished the sound of voices on the water a mile out toward the mill and then Fred’s whistle, as I walked down to the shore. “Have you got a rope that I can tie Whidden’s horse up with, he has broke loose again?” came from Fred. “Wait a few moments and you’ll have one from Whidden, as I hear him coming.” Then I went over and we squatted on the little wharf and waited. In perhaps half an hour Whidden and Gillis came over in the schooner’s yawl, but no lumber. The lighter was loaded at sunset and sunk while “tea” was being eaten. Gillis, however, promised to bring the lighter in the morning sunk or not. Early this morning Whidden went home and as the sun rose I could distinguish the lighter actually under way and under water approaching. As the breakfast bell rang the lighter came with Gillis and St. Clair. She was three inches under water and slats nailed over to make a raft. Two schooners were visable [sic] on the opposite shore the “Mary” and a skiff schooner of Allens. The lighter was left unloaded and the two men went back, and I went to breakfast. During the morning Fred crossed to De Costers and brought back mail to Aug. 23. and also a barrel of cocoanuts. D.C. had got Allen’s provisions and at Pine Level a letter from his brother enclosing money and stating that he would be down on the bay the latter part of the month to “settle.” Your letters of 10th, 17th and 24th came. I was expecting to hear good news from Uncle John, but I can wait another mail if it only comes good! You have no idea how anxious I am that it should prove so. And Brenda’s anxiety is as great as mine. We live in hope! During the afternoon I unloaded the lighter, Fred helped me a little with the heavier thing and I am played out tonight.

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P.G.C. Thursday September 14, 1876 I am lame and sore from lifting and dragging lumber to night and feel weak and played out. Most of the lumber and framing I brought up to the old kitchen site today and I shall commence soon to erect my penny kitchen. Little Fred helped me quite a plenty. Yesterday I planted 3 alligater [sic] pear seeds. They looked like enormous hickory nuts with the bark on. Fred put in his 11 cocoanuts and I saved mine for tomorrow after my lumber is drawn up. Rain fell quite heavily this afternoon about supper time. The mill has run briskly yesterday and today. Birds have attacked the rice beds. Somebody will have to “set over it” and watch it! Tonight the air is damp and heavy clouds are slowly drifting over us. No news today of any account.

P.G.C. Friday Sept 15, 1876 I stacked up the remainder of my lumber and rough edge and covered it from the tail end of the rainy season. It took the better part of the day as I did it alone. Fred offered to help if I wanted him to, but I knew he preferred to do other and pleasanter work and I concluded not to “borther” him. All day long I have felt weak and miserable and in the sun faint like and dizzy. I had to take frequent rests and hardly did a half days work. This weakness may come from the reducing process to get rid of boils and added to by our rather short rations, but a little cooler weather will, I am positive, give me more strength and a little more vim. Good news from home would give a permanent cure. We have had a warm morning, but a gloomy afternoon, heavy clouds obscuring the sunset and covering the sky even now. A few pattering rain drops fell last night and a few more this afternoon, but not to any great extent to=day. At supper time a dirty looking schooner (of about 10 tons I should think) came across the horizon and anchored, with

Page 184 mainsail up opposite Pepi’s. Fred says that the old “Santa Maria” acts as a stool pigeon now and it is a fact that every strange boat drops her wings and settles about that “pride of Charlotte Harbor,” as she comes in. The “Margaret” from some where near Punta Rassa was visable [sic] at De Costers this morning but sailed at noon down the bay. The mill is hard at work sawing out lumber for Williams from logs he himself hauled in. When the bridge lumber is ready (?) it will be rafted around to 12 mile Creek for the 100 ft bridge across that stream. When Whidden was here he stated that the Seminoles were all out hunting this summer and no crops were being planted. Old Indian scouts opine that they are preparing for a raid on the whites. As there are only 60 braves they can’t do much. Whidden avers that they manage to grind up palmetto roots and eat them when prepared in their fashion. Their mode of bread making must be rather economical, but I don’t think we would like to follow it. They put a handful of flour to a gallon of water and make a sort of gruel and then mould the “settlings” into a certain kind of dough and bake it. Mrs. Ben’s foot is so much better that she expects to put on her shoe again and give me my slipper. It has interfered a little with the “pleasures” of the washboard but the line has been pretty well filled with clean linen, nevertheless. The three mites are getting on gloriously; the small wagon is a source of constant delight to the three. The Infant Micawber manages to drag Phip all round the house, but generally he gets most of the rides. There is one mode of using the vehicle, invented by Freddie, that seems to be generally accepted as “A No 1.” the baby sits in the bottom, Phip pulls and Freddie poles, standing up. Thus the wagon becomes much “lighter.” Now laugh!

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P.G.C. Saturday September 16, 1876 A jolly breeze has blown all day; one of the “white cap” sort making fat looking shirt sleeves and a well rounded back to a fellow. The old lighter on the beach made a wry face and “squirmed“ about in the grass as the waves came dashing in. I put in my 11 cocoanuts first cutting away the stem end as per advice of G. W. Phillips and then covered with six inches of dirt. All but 5 I put on the beach. 3 I located in the ash heap in the plowed space and 2 I dropped back of the infant kitchen where the gopher mound used to be. If they all, —the 19—prosper my place will look quite tropical—in 50 years. Phillips sent some to De Coster also. There were no Havana oranges in Key West. Our $1 worth will come later. Coffee is getting low in the larder. Only 5 lbs left. Therefore we take coffee for breakfast only—water for dinner—and tea for supper—all straight with no “sugar in ourn.” All the lemon trees set out by Fred and me are starting vigorously. The one burned in the fire, and since getting a start from the roots, is doing the best. It reaches a foot above my head with four branches still going upward. Would’n’t it be a good idea to burn down the others? The young orange trees are extremely lazy and don’t seem inclined to advance much. After the wet weather is over I think they will start skyward in lively order. The dirty looking schooner that came in last night proved to be the “Laura.” As no signal is up at De Costers I presume she did’n’t bring anything—but Pepi.

P.G.C. Sunday September 17, 1876 We have passed a delightful sabbath. Breezes have been in order from N.W. and N.E. all day with a much ruffled surface on the bay and the usual fanning within doors. No rain of course has dropped and only a few fleecy clouds moved lazily overhead. The sun was unusually warm, but its warmth

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was counteracted by the breezes. This morning we had a visitor. A black snake, 4 feet long, came up in the front piazza and Hunnikins went out to give him a reception. I rushed for the hoe and when I came back his snakeship was just disappearing over the edge. As I struck at him he left his card—6 inches of his narrative—and went away otherwise unceremoneously [sic]. We took our corn beef, okra and rice for dinner and then Ben and I went “up stairs” and enjoyed the breeze and overhauled the file of “Graphics” while Freddie Phip and Harry played “lighter” on the path. Our usual cold rice and tea finished our appetite craving just before sunset and the “Sun,” “Sunday Times” and “Tribune” will furnish matter to dream on after we retire under our canopy. Those “Suns” afford us all a vast amount of amusement, profit and a knowledge of the outside world. Let them come on as long as you can stand it. If Freddie were not asleep I have no doubt he would request me to state that he was gorgeously attired in a new pair of pants made from yours which have thus descended to the 3d generation. He was greeted as “Granpa” and felt as proud as a peacock with all sails set.

P.G.C. Monday September 18, 1876 The weather today has been warm and sunny, with only gentle breezes. To night quiet and pleasant with a few stray mosquitoes to break up the monotony. Thermometer at 2 o’c 88°. I have given the entire day to the skiff and yet I must give another—and perhaps more before finishing. There is so much puttering work about it that takes time and my tool-bench lacks a joiners jack screw. When I do any edging I have to call for help from Master Freddie and I plane while he holds the board. I progress slowly—but surely. The skiff when finished [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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After dinner I noticed the solitary horseman coming in from the woods. He turned out to be Whidden on “Old Dave” the one-eyed dirty white horse of his. He anchored the nag and came in shore! He had heard that Langford had brought down 125 logs to the mill and followed on after on “little Jack nag,” to get his 3.000 feet, which are to pay for the steers. Fred took him over in the white boat and I hurriedly scratched up some letters and sent over for any stray venture. When Fred came back he brought papers and letters to Aug 30. which came by the “Laura.” De Coster had not condescended to signal to us. Williams had hauled in logs to the mill for his own lumber and De Coster had used them for Allen’s bridge. Whidden stands a poor chance of getting anything for his steers Fred thinks. Gillis was not visable [sic]. But Fred learned that the “Santa Maria” would actually go around to Fort Meyers tomorrow evening with Allen’s lumber and in a week make another trip. We shall take advantage of tomorrow’s sailing to send a batch of letters and hope they will reach you in good season. We have had very few chances of late. Fred will send to Fort Meyers for corn and I will ditto to Key West. We can’t have too much. One or the other will I hope reach us soon for we are rather low down in such food. The mites are all abed and in first rate health. Ben has got rid of her toe boil and mine are in the last stages of leave taking. Fred and Anna are in first rate health—but they will tell you that and all items concerning themselves. Until next time, therefore, Yours Jarvee.

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“Punta Gorda Chica” Charlotte Harbor Fla. September 12, 1876

My dear Pa.

Mr. Whidden came down yesterday with two steers for De Coster. He goes back at noon today. Down the bay a schooner is trying to beat up against wind and tide. I shall keep the last two weeks diary to send by her and at the same time take the opportunity to send you a line or two by Whiddens. We are all progressing favorably and in fair spirits. The lighter is being loaded now with such lumber as I selected for a preliminary kitchen (10 x 12) and will be over to take back the steers. During the week I shall try to erect the shanty and be ready for whatever may turn up. I hope Mr F. has been willing to do as I wished and handed you a check for what I asked—or that failing the silver has furnished you with sufficient means to send us the wherewithal to commence housekeeping again. We are anxious to be on our own basis again and we want to relieve Fred and Anna as soon as possible—and I doubt not they will be glad to be by themselves again. As with the utensils to cook and live with, we require something in the way of eatables. I have therefore prepared a list of necessaries, extras, things, clothing and ammunition, which you can cut down or send in full [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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hand may warrant you in so doing. With the stove and the barest possible quantity of camp outfit we can get along and you will of course use your judgement [sic] —based on means etc—as to the best and most useful things to send us on my previous list. We have had no letters for 4 weeks as the “Bonne” brought nothing the last time she came in the fault of some oversight in K.W. The last letters I sent went two weeks ago by Bonne. The Colony sent 16 I believe. In regard to movements and items I refer you to diary. It will arrive pretty near the time this will. In potatoes I have up about 5.000 feet Fred $4.000. The rice is heading but will not be a tremendous crop. It has been, however, a successful experiment. Fred’s okra does well and cassava also. Guava, lime, lemon and other stray seeds have been planted and are coming up well. The small orange trees get along slowly. Within the past week we have had a deluge of rain and the country is overflowed. Five men have visited Charlotte Harbor in search of a terminus for a Rail road from Gainesville. They expect to come again in a month and guarantee the running of the road in 18 months. Perhaps! Bartholf has resigned his county clerkship and has moved down to the bay.

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The “Santa Maria” is to be patched up and run by Gus Lawrence until what money he expends on her can be made out of the running. De Coster will be compelled from lack of funds to give up the mill on Oct 2 he says and Williams says Oct 15. The latter ought to know best. I have left an order with him for lumber for new kitchen as per plan I sent you @ the rate of $16 per TT. delivered on my shore. D.C. has orders for 20.000 feet of lumber and no logs and no chance of any but what he can get with one cart back in his own woods. If I find it impossible, when I hear from you, to pay for my lumber ordered I may countermand or take it on tick and the occasion warrants. I thought but to get my bill in before the mill closed. I have commenced the new skiff and will try to finish it this week in readiness for mullet etc. Tell “Bags” that Fanny has got a cream colored baby. And thus I give you the news in a nutshell. We are all well. My boils are nearly over with. Brenda has adopted one and hobbled much. And now for my list: Fodder list for 1877. Necessaries. 1 bbl flour. 3 lbs baking soda ½ “ pork 2 boxes black pepper ½ “ sugar 4 “ cinnamon 50 lbs. coffee 10 bags salt. 5 “ cream tarter 10 gallons molasses [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Necessaries (Continued) 2 bags Pearl hominy Kerosene oil Plenty of beans. 1 box hard common soap 2 papers stove polish 1 bath buck for scouring 2 boxes shoe blacking knives. - Extras. Canned Milk 25 lbs. hams 2 or 3 bottles Vanilla Ex. 10 “ oatmeal 1 bottle sweet oil Dried apples 1 “ vinegar “ prunes 1 box yeast cakes (Twin 13rd.[?]) “ peaches 5 lbs good tobacco. “ cherries 1 box of corned beef. - Things ¼ doz. scrubbing brushes. 1 hatchet (with claw) 1 brush for stove blackings 1 “dobber” for shoe blacking 2 tin dippers 1 padlock and key. 2 stable buckets (oak) 1 door lock and key 1 lemon squeezer 1 hasp and fixins 1 can opener - Clothing etc. 3 summer undershirts for J.C. Enough twill for 3 prs. 1 or 2 pairs Army or Navy shoes drawers. 1 pair shoes (not so heavy) ½ doz. Col’d socks. 1 pair blue overall. - Ammunition 1 lb. powder. 1 box Ely’s wads (10) 5 or 10 lbs. duck shot. - Comments. Sugar and molasses we find it almost impossible to get here in Florida. It might be had in Manatee at a fair price, if we can get it brought home. In K.W. it is too dear. Rice we can get in K.W. Canned milk will be useful in rice puddings and such matters and to sweeten the baby’s fook, but if necessary we can get along without it. Canned corn beef and ham are relishes which we could also do without if necessary. Oatmeal is excellent as a change. A small package sent by Mrs. Reeve tasted uncommonly good. Apples and cherries I k[now?] [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 192 already decided to send in the home productions, as Mother has written. Prunes and peaches are palatable and nice but we can do without if necessary. The “things” are all required. My summer undershirts are more holes and rags than shirts and I should like to have some new ones. My shoes are very low down and during the summer have been damaging to my pet boils. My drawers are “done gone.” and very thick with patches. Brenda will make me new ones if she can get the stuff. A pair of overalls like those “Bags” had would suit me prime. I have powder and shot already and if funds are low never mind that part of the list. With a fair show of thing generally I have written for we can drop into housekeeping again and be able to put our share of P.G.C. in order. “Thus a divinity that shapes our ends Rough hew them how we may” Should the schooner “drop up” before Whidden goes home I will add a line or two more. In the meantime with love to all in which Ben joins I am as ever Jarvee. P.S. Evening. Fred and Whidden went across to arrange about the lighter. De Coster was at Pine Level and the “old nick” to pay at the mill. High mutiny had occurred among the hands. Starvation had set in at De Costers. Only bread for breakfast. No coffee. Low down all round. Cash was to run off with a yoke of oxen for his pay George had gone to Pine Level to get an attachment on the lumber at the mill. And Gillis was going leave if things were not righted. The sloop came up after Fred

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came back. It was supposed to be Bill Allen’s from Fort Meyers with provision to pay for lumber that was to be ready and even the logs for it were not in yet. All was upside down and there was a regular bread riot. Still John Lomond was to load the lighter with my lumber and bring it over. He began the business when Fred left before decision but the lighter had not left the mill at dusk. If it was not come in the morning Whidden will take his oxen back home although his horse has taken French leave and gone before. Should my lumber not come I shall have to go over for it. De Coster will be back tonight and I hope will bring order out of chaos, but I am afraid there will be much trouble at his house yet.

P.S. Tuesday The lighter is coming with my lumber and two men. Breakfast is ready and Whidden goes home on the return of lighter—by water.

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{Fac ---Tampa Guardian of Oct 28. 1876}

Charlotte Harbor, Fla. September 16, 1876 Editor of the “Tampa Guardian”

Dear Sir,

Knowing your fondness for guavas, we have often expressed the wish of late that you were here to spend a few days and help us dispose of some of our large crop, which are now ripening so fast that we hardly know what to do with them. Oh! for a railroad or some other speedy conveyance to take them to market, we could dispose of thousand of dollars worth if we had one. We have several kinds of the finest I have ever seen, and one kind in particular that deserves special mention, and as they have never been classified to distinguish them from other kinds, we call them the pear guava, they are about three times the size of the ordinary guava, and has comparatively few seeds in the center, they are the exact shape of a pear, and nearly as fine as an apple, and while the ordinary guava keeps but a day or two after they are fully ripe, those will keep for a week or two. We have a few of those trees just coming into full bearing and so the seed always brings fruit true to name; we expect in a year or two to have thousands of those fine trees. The tree bears in from a year and a half to two years from the seed, which comes up almost as quickly as a cabbage seed, and in rich soil will grow from five to six feet in a year. We have several trees on our place bearing a few guavas but a little over a year old. It is astonishing to me that every man in the States who has a patch of land does not plant guavas. Why, I tell you they are nearly half a living in a family, and even in the Northern portion of the State, and Southern Georgia, it would pay to protect them from the frost during the winter. But me thinks I hear some one saying you have said fully enough about the guava. If you have any thing else to say worth hearing, why out with it. But the fact is Mr. Editor: when I get to speaking or writing about the guava I never know when to stop. I am fully convinced that more can be made from them than from the orange or any other kind of tropical fruit. For Jelly and Marmalade are so easily manufactured, and commands such a high price, that the profit is simply enormous; I am fully assured that an acre of guavas in full bearing world produce five thousand dollars worth of Jelly and Marmalade. But I see if I am to speak of any thing else I must change the subject. Charlotte Harbor will [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 195 sleep of ages, for soon the rushing of the iron horse will startle the timid deer upon our prarie [sic], and arouse the bear and panther from their dens. Soon its beautiful bay will be dotted with white sails, and the happy voices of thousands will chant its praise, I say happy voices, for who could fail to be happy in such a clime as this, where three hundred days, out of every three hundred and sixty-five the weather is as pleasant and lovely as the most pleasant day ever witnessed in the Northern states. Here we have no chilling frosts in winter, nor burning torrid days in summer. The thermometer rarely rises above 90 in summer, or sinks below 50 in winter. This is one of the most equitable climates in the world. The winds from the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico ever sweeping cool in summer, and warm in winter. But I see I am getting off the track, I started to tell something about a rail-road, and the waking up of the place etc. Messrs. Packwood Gruelle and three other gentlemen, were here a few days ago to inspect this place, measure the depth of water etc., with a view of determining the exact locality of the terminus of the rail-road. And they assured me that in eighteen months we should hear the snorting of the iron horse. I can then see no reason why this should not be the winter Saratoga of the U. S. Florida with such a climate, and a beautiful body of water, and such fine hunting and fishing, with such oysters and clams that it makes ones mouth water to think about them. Now this is no fancy sketch but a reality, I have seen a ton of the finest fish I ever saw caught in a few hours, and I have known eleven deer killed in a single day by a small party of hunters. Nor need one go hungry in such a place as this. And as for clothing, cotton and linen is as heavy and warm as one has any use for. This is emphatically the poor man’s country. Not but what a rich man can enjoy it, but it seems especially adapted to the poor. Let us for one moment compare this country with the North. Here we have no long cold winters to provide for, but evry [sic] month in the year, some kind of vegetables can be grown; during the winter months cabbages, beets, turnips, carrots, tomatoes etc. do best. Then there is no large pile of wood to be provided to keep the family from freezing for five or six months.

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Now for one moment let us take a peep North, take for a sample the State of Maine my own native State, why there Mr. Editor, it takes the six summer and fall months to prepare and provide for the four or five months of winter; such a pile of hay as it takes to keep a few head of cattle and horses through the winter, while here our cattle horses and sheep get their own living in summer. (This should read “winter.” JCH.) The only trouble is here we can get a living too easy. Nature has done too much for us, and we are apt to become indolent and I fear lazy. Why Mr. Editor if we worked here as they do in New England, we should soon have more than we would know what to do with. And now seriously, as much as I love my own native State—And I do love her rock land hills and pleasant vallies [sic]; her fair women and brave men, yet I would not go there to spend the remainder of my days if I could be made Governor for life, and have the wealth of the Indies. No I would rather live in the sunny clime and tend mother earth for her golden fruits. N.H. De Coster. Thus endeth the letter. It needs no comments, for it speaks for itself. I have copied it with all its jumbled grammar and errors. Read and enjoy. J.C. H. -- This advertisement I copy from same paper: Gainesville, Ocala and Charlotte Harbor Railroad - To whom it may concern: Whereas, The people of the State of Florida, represented in the Senate and Assembly, did enact a law entitled “An act to Provide a General Law for the Incorporation of Railroads and Canals, passed and approved February 19th A.D. 1874, said act being in force from and after its passage; and now, this tenth day of June, A.D. 1876, said law being in force and not amended, the persons whose names are hereunto signed, by their individual signatures, have for the purpose of building, equipping, maintaining and operating, and succeeding to all the rights privileges, franchises, and liabilities of a railroad,

Page 197 in its corporate powers and associated company, do hereby give public notice of our intention and act herewith to build, equip, maintain, and operate a line of railway from a point in the county of Columbia, in the state of Florida, at or near the state line between the states of Georgia and Florida, and running thence in a southerly course via Lake City, in the county of Columbia, and thence in a southerly course through the counties of Columbia, Alachua, Marion, Sumter, Polk and Manatee, to a point on Charlotte Harbor in the county of Manatee and state of Florida. Also, a branch starting from the most available point of intersection with the main line in the county of Polk, and run thence to the town of Tampa, in the county of Hillsborough, and state of Florida aforesaid, hereby give notice of the formation of a railroad company named and styled The Gainesville Ocala, and Charlotte Harbor Railroad Company of Florida, as required by the general act of incorporation for such purposes, enacted as aforesaid. In testimony whereof, we have herewith set our hands and seals this tenth day of June A.D. 1876. N.R. Gruelle (L.S.) G. B. Phinney (L.S.) H.C. Howard (L.S.) B.F. Matthias (L.S.) James Hunter (L.S.) Thomas C. Lanier (L.S.) J.B. Brown (L.S.) Geo. H. Packwood (L.S.) Tampa, June 24 – 3m.

Another extract.—“The freight on household goods from New York to Tampa (Via Fernandina) is 25 cents per cubic foot. On flour, hominy, apples, potatoes and dry barrels via the same line and their gulf connections $1.00 per bbl.

Tampa Market rates.—Bacon shoulders 12 to 14 cents; Smoked Bacon 15 to 17 cents; Hams 18 to 20 cents; Goshen butter 40 to 50 cents; cheese 20 to 25 cents; coffee 28 @ 33 cents; Flour, extra, $10 @ $12; ditto, sup. $8.75 @ $9.50; Corn $1.00 per bush; Lard 20 cents; meal 4 cents qt.; Rice 10 to 12 cents; Sugar 10 @ 20cents; Syrup (per gal) 60 @ 75 cents; salt (per sack) $2.50 @ $3.00; Sweet potatoes (per bush); Irish $2.50; Mullet (per string) 10 cents; Lemons (per 100) 50 cents to $1.00; Limes 30 to 40 cents; Alligator Pears (per dozen) $1.00;Citron 25 cents per doz; Bananas (per bunch.) 50 @ $1.00; Guavas (per bush) $1.50—with reductions when sold at [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Charlotte Harbor Monday September 18, 1876

My dear Pa,

The “Santa Maria” goes to Punta Rassa and Fort Myers tomorrow afternoon and I have closed up diary to go with it, and I send you also a special answer to your letters of Aug 10, 18. and 24. which arrived about a week ago. First—all our frieght [sic] has arrived after much delay; and was very thankfully received. Nothing was spoiled, although a little of the freshness of some farinaceus [sic] diet was obliterated. The De Coster Hotel will be built—when the railroad comes to Charlotte Harbor. The diary will answer the potato question. The rice looks well and will yield a bushel sure as present appearances indicate. The season has been too dry. However the experiment is a successful one and we will do more next year and on a larger scale. The potatoes last year and that plowed up by Whidden I intended to get into the orange grove for “stand overs” but did not succeed. The skiff and new kitchen have interfered somewhat and I have not felt well enough for the past 3 weeks to work in the sun. I suppose I have worried too much over what fate has in store for me this fall to keep me through the winter and have been harrassed in several ways. The voting question I wrote you about I will vote if there is a possibility of my doing so and get as many others as I can. I think Uncle Sammy will go in whether our votes are counted or not. I shall also write to Dr. Harris. And so much for Aug 10 --.

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On the 18th you say that you think it most advisable for either Brenda or me to write to Uncle John etc. I wanted much to hear from you before I wrote to him, but I thought it best not to delay any more and so wrote. You have no idea how disagreeable the task was. Brenda and I held council over the matter to be written and we fixed it as you next week saw. Had Brenda written it would not have been so well. We both know Uncle John well enough to know that. He dislikes any petticoats in a business matter particularly in such a case. He likes one to be outspoken etc. The matter is done, however, and I earnestly hope something will come of it—the sooner the better. Still, much as I dislike to ask such favors I would do so many times over sooner than you should make any more sacrifices for us. The proposition to offer the silver as security I did not make, but held it for that purpose eventually. Perhaps it would have been better to have made the offer. You refer to some powders of Dr Peters send [sic] by Fred. I asked Fred about them and he said they were for prickly heat. He will take good care of them, as he supposes you sent them to him. When you have anything you wish to send me, wont you please send to me. Fred acts so peculiar about such things that I never ask him for anything I can do without. If you have any seeds or plants or anything you wish me to have please send direct. Otherwise I may not get them. Brenda’s arms have been covered with prickly heat and yet Fred has not offered me any of the powders. It’s his way I suppose—or something else. And now for the 24th. The diary to Aug 9 went later. I missed sending it in the hurry to get off other letters. In the “things hoped for” I hope you will reduce according to means at hand

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I shall put up the small kitchen right away—commencing it as soon as I finish the skiff. Then I shall be ready for what may come. Of course a stove is necessary. Stove pipe and cap I can order in Key West I will want to know the size of pipe in advance however. With the stove and pipe—a tea kettle, iron pot, sauce pan, farina kettle, gridiron, frying pan and baking and bread pans—with plates and knives. We can manage until “stocks rise” again. If you can send those and a few eatables do so and let the rest come when convenient. We can get along on the barest necessaries for a time and be “high daddy” when the rest arrive. Both Brenda and I are anxious to begin work on our own domains, no matter how inconveniently we may be compelled to do it. Fred and Anna are as anxious as we are to have us do so, —further I dont wish to state while occupying the position of guests at their table. [Portions of next sentence obliterated from ink bleed- through from crossouts on page 201. Appears to read as follows.] All this I would not only to show how anxious we all are to get upon the footing before the fire. In regard to the silver question Brenda has written a note to you which you can show to Mrs. Reeve. She did so once before but I thought she had better not send it as she had written so many times and so positively. There may have been some misunderstanding, but I cant see how. The delay, again, may have been caused by Mrs R and Minna trying to arrange some way to help us and not dispose of her wedding presents. If you do have to see her, be sure to state our condition. I have not made it out quite as bad as it is because Fred requested me to be very careful, when we first took our meals with him, not to expose his poverty. I have had to strike midway and try to do justice to both. But I think Mrs. Reeve and Minna—and Uncle John now—have a very good idea of

Page 201 our situation. I could’n’t very well state that Fred’s larder was so low that we lived on corn, coffee and bread for weeks without milk and sugar, but I, and Brenda too, got around the facts concerning Fred as well as we could and tried to give a correct idea of ourselves and our situation. It was a difficult job but I think they know now pretty well how we are situated. Of course Kate Waterbury [?] and Lizzie Gardner, the Vials and others imagine orange groves and tropical profusion about us and it would be difficult to let them know our exact status. Mrs. Reeve has sent quite a batch of eatables, varied, and in small packages. These we are now eating, although some would have been better had we “bitten into” them earlier. Still, I think, you had better give Mrs. R. a correct picture of how we are situated, even if you should get the check from Uncle John. [Five lines of the letter very closely crossed out, followed by...] (The above is not a specimen of the new rail road to Charlotte Harbor, nor a picture of Charity covering a multitude of sins— but a simple error in setting up copy) To continue: The grass and lettuce in the harbor has not given us any on shore—but it may come. If it does we will pile it up for mulch. You send us one piece of news in your last letter that dont set well. And that is that you are not to be with us this winter. I have made up my mind bef---t [?] and to that result, but the knowledge of the fact comes like a bitter pill. I really think it will be best for you to look after politics

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a little this year and try to get a hand in for political cherries and plums. I hope you can get some big ones. Nicodemus and Phip—and young Harry—will have to get along without Pop-Pop and Brenda will have to learn to play cribbage to help me out. The $15 you sent came all right in 3 $5 installments. They have (with the $25 from the pistol) helped to defray table expenses and freight bills, besides also helped to keep us up in “smoke.” In addition I have run up a bill at Cash’s for about $11. and will increase it to $15 by another bag of corn. The a/c stands in my name. In Fred’s letter from you received today you say that eatables from Crowhill will come by steamer on Oct 28. We will try to arrange for them. Today’s mail came by “Laura.” These eatables we shall get fat on and be ready to work the fat off on palmetto roots and grubbing. By the way “ti ti” roots are a different variety than those we have. They grow in tangle up beyond Tampa Our “ti ti” is called by the native “Fly catcher” root. And now I’ll close [?] Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Tuesday September 19, 1876

My dear Pa,

The “scribblers club” had a long sitting yesterday and this morning and finally adjourned —until next time. The letters Fred placed on the other side to go by the “Santa Maria” to Punta Rossa [sic] and I recommence my evening jottings to go by the next opportunity. We have had a very warm tropical day, with just breeze enough to take the edge off of the heat. Fred brought Whidden over when he came back just before tea, and the old white horse was saddled and off he went homeward, to return again in two weeks with his team. There was no lumber ready for him and it is promised for 2 weeks ahead. Mrs. De Coster told Fred that Nat would give up the mill on the 15th of next month, unless some special windfall would drop upon him. Nat proposes to stump the state for Wheeler (?) saying that he is sure to be elected out next president. In the meantime he expects to “read up!” I think he needs a little coaching to remember that Hayes holds a place on his ticket if nothing else. From all accounts and political bearings I think there will be a good opportunity for De Coster to invite both Wheeler and Hayes to settle “in this sunny clime” after November and not try to climb into the presidential chair. By the way, one of the mill men eats 40 limes every day. What a sweet disposition he must have! As darkness gathered the “Santa Maria’s” sails were hoisted—but as the bridge lumber was still loading I don’t think she will sail before morning.

P.G.C. Wednesday September 20, 1876 The “Santa Maria” must have sailed in the night, as this morning she is nowhere visable.[sic] It has been very warm and only occasional ripples [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 204 the face of the bay. Otherwise it was quite clam and serene all day. The red fish make their usual “wakes” going down to the old wharf and bunches of lettuce floated down stream also. But none of the latter came near shore. After breakfast Fred came over and we sprung the skiff together. It begins to look like quite a boat and tomorrow we shall add bottom and keel—the boards to make it of I half finished planing to day. This skiff making is quite an intricate piece of business, nothing being on the square but mostly cut bias. When finished we shall have a light and strong boat, and be able to go after mullet in rapid order. Yesterday Fred brought a pocketful of guavas—only 64; but his pocket had a hole in it and the greater number got into the lining—and tonight we had some for supper. They were a jolly treat for the colony. Ben proposes making a guava pocket (!) in my coat, after the plan of the inexhaustible bottle and come a trick on De Coster worth two of the old one. The mill hands, niggers and settlers, within 5 miles, all raid on the “immense guava grove” and manage to keep the fruit from rotting on the ground. It is very warm to night and I have said my say. So I’ll stop.

P.G.C.Thursday September 21, 1876 A gentle rain, as meek as you please, is dropping with a sound like sand paper on a board, and it will serve to cool the heated surface of P.G.C. The skiff has progressed favorably today but will need a couple more days to finish. Fred chopped out his big tree near the cluster of cabbages on the beach. We tried hard for an hour to keep it from falling inland, both Fred and I getting up to our waists in the water and pulling on a long rope, but it was too many for us and went down among the cassava. I took a swim afterward as I was wet through and had two ‘gaters to look on and criticise my shape. Lockhart

Page 205 came over in his skiff nearly going under by way of variety. He had been to the mill to get his meal ground and was returning home. All the thwarts and supports had been removed from his boat and it was a mere shell, with cracked sides and quite porous. He came in port to “calk up,” got a drink, looked at the new skiff on the “stocks” and departed on a “poler expedition” down the bay. He told me that he had fenced in an acre of his ground and was doing nicely. There is certainly much rich ! land about his shanty and I hope he will continue to like his location. A good south west breeze has blown today up to supper time, changing a little to S.E. and finally getting full east. But just now the rain comes heavier and we may have quite a spell, after all. The aroma of two dead snakes—superinduced thusly by Fred, came to us after dinner, as a sort of smell dessert. The usual flock of buzzards will clear up the matter by tomorrow, and furnish amusement for Neuse.

P.G.C. Friday September 22, 1876 The darkness of night has gathered about us and a heavy shower is pouring rain from above. Already small puddles—or miniature grass ponds—are in course of construction about us and the green and brown frogs are crawling down the piazza posts, or hastily dropping with a tobacco quid thud on the piazza. The tubs are full and Brenda’s heart is glad and the new skiff with her bottom on (except the last foot) is taking water for the first time, like a shadow of what she will be when floating in “liquid either” in the bay. Her bottom is bared to the “fury of the tempest” but tomorrow we will begin to put in some of the interior fixins and prepare for paint. Tell George I’ll send him a sketch of the new craft when we launch her. Our last night’s rain stopped before I got to bed and the morning we had

Page 206 a most gorgeous gold, red and purple sunrise, with fleecy specks of color all over the east arranged most beautifully. Then we had warm weather all day and only a modicum of breeze. The old mill puffed smoke in immense volumes and kept up a busy look all day long. Just after dinner I made three lengths of a 5 foot black snake and put him away. Wood doves are in the trees and just beginning to be numerous. They are birds of passage yet and dont come to trap. The rice looks quite “grainy” and the heads unlike northern grain branches and hangs over gracefully. Most of it is “waist high” as Ely talks about and looks pretty well, but not really up to the mark. The heads should be from 8 to 10 inches long, but ours will average about 6. As I said before it is successful as an experiment—so far. The wind howls and rushes like a “Norther” around the house now and the shower has been blown away..... No, it has’n’t, for it comes again with a rush. “Torrents” are falling and the wind blows strong and galey from the north. Like old Rip Van Winkle I’ll now take my nap within hearing of “Falling Water.”

P.G.C. Saturday September 23, 1876 The rain of last night fell rapidly long after I went to bed. This morning the ground was soaked and long canals of standing water remained in the potato beds and circular ones about the mounds. The first part of the day was partly cloudy with no rain and the latter part ditto with. But only a little fell. We did some more skiff work this AM. and Fred tried to get out his big tree-top from the cassava, while I planed more and worked on the skiff in the afternoon. A white sloop, of 7 or 8 tons dropped anchor at Pepi’s at sunrise, but there’s no signal.

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P.G.C. Sunday September 24, 1876 Fine weather all day with but little breeze however. Ben and I crossed to De Coster’s in the afternoon for a row, taking Master Hunnkin and leaving Freddie and Phip to keep house. The whole De Coster family—except Rachel and the mite—had gone to visit Mrs. Weeks, who was very weak and low down with a billious [sic] fever and a mixture of other ailments resulting from bad nursing during confinement. We improved the opportunity to walk through the guava bushes and collect the leavings. We managed to fill ourselves and pockets and carried over a hundred for general consumption to the P.G.C. colony. As we were pulling off De Coster and party called to us from down the beach. We returned said “Howdy” got a few spikes for the skiff keel and then went over reaching home by sunset. Mosquitoes nipped and we “et” by “candlelight.” Then we toddled to our shanty, sat awhile and now turn in.

P.G.C. Monday September 25, 1876 A ripe “gorva” before breakfast, then the cavalcade to the dog kitchen and then skiff work. —By the way, Fred picked a ripe guava from his tree yesterday—The keel of the skiff and all outside work is finished, except the fender. Tomorrow we will turn the craft over and try to finish up the interior. The fisherman’s sloop went up river yesterday. No “Sainted Maria.” Guavas for supper and didn’t we enjoy them? I say! July and John Lomond have just come for the lighter. They will pole to Youmans place, get the mustang and return by moonlight. Caught a “gopher” yesterday. Marked him “H. ‘76” and put him over the fence. Quail in plenty, but some quite young. Wood doves beginning to settle. In a day or tow we’ll take toll.

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P.G.C. Tuesday September 26, 1876 Big Fred and little Fred have gone across to answer the signal at De Coster’s. We opine “beef.” An hours time will show. The sun went down 10 minutes ago gorgeously red, and the clouds reflected much brilliancy. It has been warm today with breezes the latter half. morning warm and quiet with “nary wind.” We turned the skiff this morning and I put in some of the “interior work.” Tomorrow morning toward noon she will be ready for paint . And then—we go a-fishin’ in “prime” condition. You should see the three youngsters about these days. They are in first rate health and such a chattering party I never saw. The baby puts in his clapper with the others and they can talk the tail off a cast=iron monkey in less than no time. The wagon still holds the first position as an amusement. But Nicodemus builds a couple of schooners a day in addition. He is heavy on mainmast, boom and gaff and rigs stays, downhaul sheets and such ropes by getting the wherewithal from Ben’s work basket. Freddie now wants to rig up the new skiff as a schooner and make trips to Key West. Last Thursday when Lockhart was here Freddie tried hard to make a trade with him for his little black nanny-goat. He offered his entire crop of sweet potatoes, but Lockhart told him that the goat was now “one of the family” and he could’n’t part with her. But Nick has’n’t given it up so; he wants to go down and talk trade again at Lockharts.

P.G.C. Wednesday, September 27, 1876 It was almost 9 o’c when the two Freds got back from the other side last night. And then Fred the elder went across again. The second time as F.W.H., “M.D.” Mrs Weeks was so very sick that Mr. W and De Coster asked Fred to go and see her.

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The Manatee Doctor had stated her trouble to be typhoid fever, and before going back had given general direction for Mr. W. to follow. De Coster resorted to his panacea for all diseases—calomel, and nearly drove what little life remained away. She had actually passed the worst point of the fever and needed stimulants and nourishing diet. Mr. W. was anxious that Fred should see his wife. Fred doubted his ability to do any good in so serious a case. “But,” said Mr. Weeks, “perhaps you might like to look at so bad a case.” Fred therefore promised to come over later. He read up Dr. Beard, got some brandy of Brenda’s, a small quantity of corn starch, some Liebig beef tea and a bottle of Carbolic acid and rowed across the bay again as a travelling [sic] doctor. At the house where the sick woman lay,—old Curry’s shanty—were congregated some 15 representatives of the neighborhood; men, women children and niggers; Tenah Fanny, Esther among the latter. Hot coffee was constantly being made for the crowd and things were pretty much after the fashion of an Irish wake without the yelling and whisky. Fred whipped out his carbolic and the crowd sniffed audibly the strange perfume and looked with wonder at the odd ways of the “medicine man.” Two women among the party seemed to know what was necessary for the patient and they helped Fred in making cornstarch in a frying pan and one tried to feed the poor woman with brandy by dipping her finger in the spoon and then putting it in the patients mouth. She was actually past eating, but in a few moments she actually went to sleep and slept better than she had for a long time. Then the crowd gathered round and held chimney less lamps smoking with kerosene to see her sleep. Near the woman were ½ a dozen watchers in a bed trying to sleep. They [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]------watch and also Fred

Page 210 advised cleanliness, fresh air and the brandy and beef-tea. “Why doctor,” said Mr. Rowan, “she haint had her clothes changed in three weeks.” She promised, however, to have it done. In the same room the coffee was being made, I believe, and Fred took a bowl of it. —black, strong Cuba coffee—and lighting his pipe and leaving such directions as he could the deacon left. “Good evenin’ docter [sic] followed him from the attendants and he rowed home near midnight. Every body supposed the poor woman was dying and she actually was—from starvation. We have heard nothing more today from her, but will learn more tomorrow when we go over. Just at sunset a schooner came in sight around the point. It may be the “Bonne” and it may be the “Santa Maria.” Fred and I will row over after breakfast. The skiff still hangs fire, but the seats and receptacles for lunch, blankets and things are all made and only the top rails are to be added. That I had to leave for tomorrow. The “Mary” went to Manatee at last today. She has been going for over a month. But I knew nothing of her sailing until her sails were up and then Fred remembered that De Coster spoke of it last night. Warm weather all day and a fine easterly breeze in afternoon with rain-threats, but no rain came. The mill was running all day. The signal last night was “beef.” We had some liver for breakfast and roast beef for dinner and more remains for a stew tomorrow.

De C.’s Shanty Thursday September 28, 1876 The “Santa Maria” is in with dates to Sept 7. Weather warm and breezy. Schooner sails to-night. Don’t make any sacrifice on your part for me. We shall be thankful for any thing you send that you can do so without sacrifice or borrowing from any more friends. If means come

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from sale of books, coppers, fiddle, or from Mr. Furman—or from silver, send us barely what your judgement dictates. If you get short yourself on your own matters, help yourself to a share in the Furman spoils. —if they come. Dont hesitate. We can manage —Brenda and I—in our new 10 x 12 kitchen until better times—the skiff and gun will help us to meat and game. Potatoes will be ready to dip into in another month and with the good things that will come on the 28th we shall get along quite easily. We are all well and that is a blessing. Mrs. Weeks still lives but is very low. Fred and I came over today. We go back to paint the new skiff. A bag of corn came from Fort Meyers which we will grind before returning. I will try to write another letter to Mr. F and get it on board the “Santa Maria” by this afternoon. Yours ever Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor, Fla. Thursday September 28, 1876

My dear Pa,

This morning Fred and I went over the bay to look after letters at De Coster’s as the signal was waving, the “Santa Maria” was in, and John Lomond in calling for the loan of Fred’s ox yoke for De Coster, had stated that letters were over there. We crossed easily with a wavy surface to contend with and got our letters and papers and the package of seeds. We returned after dinner time in a heavy squall, having left the corn at the mill to be ground and brought some guavas. The wind blew a gale and both Fred and I were soaked through. Tomorrow the “Santa Maria” sails again and I have placed on board the “diary” to date. There’s very little to write about nowadays, but I try to give you as much variety as our monotonous life will warrant.

P.G.C. Friday September 29, 1876 Again we are visited by “glass kane” and warm weather, with afternoon breezes moaning through the pines, and rippling the Harbor surface. After corn and coffee and our regulation ration of bread I started a la solitaire for the “Sainted Maria” and “guava ranche.” I rowed over leisurely and went ashore at De Costers. De C. came in with Bill Allen after a time and carrying a large piece of white cloth. This he handed to “Emmy” and asked her to make a shroud or winding sheet for Mrs. Weeks who died this morning. She undertook the task but did not succeed. De Coster then went for Mrs. Rowan to help meantime mixing some red paint and lamp black to paint the coffin with. I went out to the guavas, filled myself and pocket and came back offering my help if needed. It was not however and after reading the Key West papers I went up to the mill, got my meal and rowed back home in time for dinner. Newt Waldron, Gillis and two others were at the mill making the poor woman’s coffin as well as their poor tools would allow [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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arrangements are made for a funeral I did not learn. Weeks is left with three children, the eldest only 5 years of age. There was a fourth, born six weeks ago, but was providentially taken away. The ”Santa Maria” was loading and Pepi thought she would get off tonight. There were many good logs at the mill but, not knowing what funds I would have to pay for my lumber I said nothing about. It is now thought that De Coster will sell the mill to a Fort Meyers party who will remove it there. If so I may be able to make my arrangements yet—providing that ”something” turns up. This evening the air is cool and breezy. And we shall be able to sleep well. Early this morning it was cool and delightful. Just before bed time last evening there was a regular cat fight on the shore—it sounded so—but Fred who sallied forth with rifle poised and night shirt tucked in his drawers could not discover the cause. The water begins to get brackish.

P.G.C. Saturday September 30, 1876 There is a smell of paint in the air. The western breezes bring it through the double window. Outside on two boxes rest, the skiff with her first coat of blue paint on, all bright and clean for Sunday. The two boys Freddie and Phip are in bed, brighter and cleaner with a good soaping. I polished the skiff and Ben polished the youngsters, as usual. The weather today was cooler and we had a fair supply of wind. Yet the “Santa Maria” sailed not. Her jib went up and she moved a peg [?] nearer the mill at high tide but she does not get under way. Should she leave tonight, she may catch the “Bonne” and the “Bonne” may catch the steamer, but it is hardly reasonable. Just after supper an eagle with a white crane in his talon crossed our place and stopped to rest on a pine tree at the back. Fred took his rifle

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walked out to the fence, the bird flew away and Fred walked back. “There’s many a slip, etc.”

P.G.C. Sunday October 1, 1876 A cool north wind has been blowing all day and it blows stronger and cooler tonight. We might call it a mild “norther” and not be far out of the way. The “Sainted Maria” still “hangs by her head,” as nautical Baggs might say. Such a good wind too to get off by. They are probably waiting for a “kane.” If she holds on much longer I shall send another batch of letters. A small school of mullet played tag with a porpoise this morning in front of us while dressing. Later another came along near my perch on the big wharf but moved through so lively that I could not get the grains in time for a shot. Tomorrow I shall give the skiff another coat and while she is drying commence the frame of the penny kitchen. Then we shall dump our new boat into the harbor let her soak a day and might bail her out and go fishin’ for fat mullet. I shall write to Baggs the dimensions of the “B.B.” (which stands for “Blue Bird” —or “Bed Bug,” which ever you please) and I need hardly repeat them here. I shall also send him a sketch of her. Fred gave me three guavas from his “trees” this afternoon. They smell good and will taste as well before breakfast tomorrow. Fred says: “Tell Pa that one of my lime trees is as high as I am.” My prize lemon that started from the roots since the fire is 7 feet high, with 4 nice branches to make it look tree like. The lemons and limes are going to do better than oranges I am beginning to believe; will bear sooner, and be fully as profitable. So far I have up from seeds planted during the damp season about 40 limes, 50 lemons and 130 guavas. I expect to hear from more as time progresses. The guavas are all of the large pear species.

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P.G.C. Monday October 2, 1876 The first “cold snap” has come. This morning the mercury dropped to 60° and we all dressed up a little more. For the first time in a long while I donned my blue flannel shirt. What gave evidence of a “norther” last night proved to be one. The wind blew direct from the north pole and the bay—most of it disappeared, leaving the usual vista of mud flats across the channel and along our shore line. Just before breakfast George “the yaller,” came over on a borrowing expedition from De Coster’s. This time it was an axe or two he axed for. Three new hands arrived at the mill and George also had returned like a dog to his vomit. And why? Victuals are “scurce” and knowing that De Coster had a fresh supply they dropped in to work out an old debt (that is the three new ones) and get a bite o’ suthin’ to eat as well. George had commenced a lawsuit against De Coster, but the matter was amicably settled somehow and George came in as the “14th amendment “to the mill force to live upon De Coster. The axes were for the three crackers, but we had none to lend. By the way, if you can please send with other things a new axe and a couple of extra handles I have only a small one with a split handle. I am afraid it may give out, but I’ll make it last if necessary. The “Santa Maria” was hard aground yesterday and today, but this afternoon she pollywagged down the bay with mainsail waving and flapping as a good bye shake from De Coster who goes along to Fort Meyers to dispose of his mill there—if he can. George, by the way, stated that Mrs. Swain had just got back from Tampa and when she left the rail road surveyers were “just behind her” laying out the new road. A small sloop is lying in wait for the “committee of 4” who we expected down for a 15 days survey of

Page 216 the harbor during the present month. It looks well and we may have a “real road” at last, but I “----- hear the slogan” yet. After breakfast I gave the “B.B.” her second coat. The wind has dried it today and tomorrow we launch the boat with the American flag at the stern. We propose to let the baby christen the boat as is customary, but instead of breaking a bottle of wine across her bow and in lieu of a bed bug to crack in its place, we propose to bust a real creamy vanilla cockroach instead, as she moves gently out upon the boosom [sic] of Charlotte Harbor’s beautiful waters. “Our own reporter: will be on hand. After painting the “B.B.” I commenced work on the little kitchen frame and made a good beginning. I shall follow up my advantage as long as the weather holds cool and get the heavy work done before it gets warm again. Ben has been housecleaning as the wind blew too hard for out of doors washing and I did not want to take time to get water from Fred’s pump. As we have only the drinking pail left it takes time to go back and forth for water now. Freddie’s room was completely overhauled and is as clean as a penny whistle. Speaking of whistles the mill whistle starts at daybreak and blows all day now, not with full force, but in the distance sounding like the continued hurrah of full blooded mosquito. Even now I hear it and it is two hours past sunset. The north wind all day has made us painfully aware of the “let off.” The rice has been very polite to day. Every time any of us have gone to Freds each “yaller head” has bowed a welcome. Harvest time, according to Whidden is “When it gets “plum yaller.” That time has’nt come yet. Only 6 pieces of pork left in the barrel and no [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Tuesday October 3, 1876 The day opened with a temperature of 59° and gradually grew warmer towards noon. The wind dropped after dinner, with a warm afternoon and a grand parade of sand flies and then as the sun dropped behind Alligater [sic] Creek across the Harbor a delicious coolness rewarded the atmosphere. At present it is cool and quiet—not even a leaf stirred! Well, we got the “B.B.” in the water and she filled quickly. The launch was a fizzle. We had to ring in the cart, place the bow on that and let Freddie steer and pull, while Fred and I with a long stick, held the stern between us. Then we marched to the shore with the skiff bottom side up. On getting to water the cart ran in too far and we had to launch “B.B” upside down. Then we got the cart out and turned her over, and she lies at the wharf filled with fresh water and we are anxiously waiting for her seams to fill up. If they dont fill as we expect we shall borrow a little oakum from De Coster and caulk her. Then look out for mullet. As yet they don’t run in very large numbers, but we can find them this side of the old wharf by going for them. For kitchen work I cleared a place of grass and roots in readiness, made most of the frame and got my blocks ready. These latter are the old kitchen blocks with sap chopped off—making quite good lightwood blocks for the purpose. Fred began planing for his sitting room. The mill has been running all day. The last whistle blew last night at 9 o’c.

P.G.C. Wednesday Oct 4, 1876 Pleasant weather as concerns temperature—but cloudy nearly all day. The kitchen progresses. After breakfast I commenced on hole boring and during the morning placed their blocks—with the burnt end down and after dinner put in the 4th and fitted the sills together and placed them “where they will do the most good” well pegged together. Tomorrow the frame

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will go up and we will have a “raisin’.” The place selected for the new shanty is 32 feet south and 40 feet east of the house. This I finally concluded on as a protection to my ------garden, of 80 feet square beyond kitchen and storehouse, in time of northers. During the afternoon Fred and I pulled the “BB: up on the beach again. Her seams did not fill as we expected and we shall fill them with caulking and paint the cracks over. During the morning Fred took his net and little basket and went to market along shore catching 15 crabs which we “et” for our supper. They did not furnish any great amount of food but they made a delicious relish. At supper time the “Laura”: went out. A very hilarious party was on board and peals of laughter were borne ashore until we almost imagined we saw the point of the joke and joined in. It was extremely ludicrous all round. In the afternoon the “Mary” came back from Manatee, and she has hauled up “Pirate’s Cove,” amid the trees, to unload—whatever she has. Just at dark tonight there was a fine showing of mosquitoes, but an hour after, as I made my pilgrimage to Fred’s pump for water I found “nary one.” On nearing Freds house I had a whiff of Key West, furnished by the not very dulcet notes of Fred’s piccolo being murdered. George undoubtedly remembers the sweet tones he tried to drown with an opposition instrument made of a tin cup and some nails well shaken at “ther ole shanter.”

P.G.C. Thursday October 5, 1876 Very warm again, with threatening rain clouds tonight. But we expect no rain. As the moon rises the clouds will disperse and more warm weather follow tomorrow. In fact, that is the way the thing is usually done. The schooner “Laura: put up sails before noon and before supper dis-

Page 219 appeared behind the Point. She may be going to Key West or to Fort Meyers. As we had sent all our news by the “Santa Maria: we concluded not to waste time to board her and find out. The storehouse kitchen grows apace. All the rest of the frame but the rafters were sawed out and put up today. Fred helped me place some of the pieces. The skiff was overhauled by the deacon and her leakages partially stopped. Early this morning the bay in front of us was alive with mullet. But the skiff was not floatable and the white- boat—according to the deacon—not available and we got none. Tomorrow we will try to get a shot if they come around again, and we can float the skiff. 7 alligators navigated as iron clads among the mullet this morning and two played like kittens, jubilating over the arrival of food again. There goes the mill whistle (8 o’clock) and the 15 hands and hangers on quit for the “day.” Only 10 days more for sawing purforce..... Later. At 9 o’c I walked over to Fred’s for a moment. The mill was still at work, and I could hear the old saw “rippin’ pine right powerful.”

P.G.C. Friday October 6, 1876 After retiring last night a healthy shower let fall something more than dew drops. There was a terrible pattering on the roof and the tubs were filled to overflowing. Our breakfast was late and the morning cloudy. A few little penny showers came at intervals and the afternoon was bright and warm, with but little breeze. Before breakfast Fred thought he saw mullet and he called for me, bailed out the skiff which still leaks somewhat lively, and we made our first trip on the water in “Bed Bu.” Fred could pole her twice as rapidly as the old skiff and he nearly upset my “equilib.” several

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times. I soon got accustomed to the speed and held my cast net in readiness, but the mullet were non est and we went ashore to fried hominy and corn cake. At noon we feasted, sparingly, on salmon (!) which came some 1.500 miles to help us out on this occasion only. It was one of the remaining delicacies of the boxes from N.Y. During the afternoon we noticed numerous ripples down the bay and half a dozen big schools of mullet seemed about to pass us. Again we bailed “B.B.” —this time of less water—and off we went in lively order. We shot into a school. I threw. There was a katerwumpus and the usual swash. I pulled in my net, lifted it and found—mullet? Oh, no. —but three small skipjacks, 4 inches long each. I had many more but they escaped through the meshes. We kept at it and I got just half a dozen all told. Then we went back to the dock. These diminutive critters we had for supper—just one apiece. Now we want some mullet! Fred came over this morning and we put up the store house rafters, then I got in the studding. The frame is all up and tomorrow I shall put in window frames and door ditto and get my floor beams fitted. Then I can lay on the outside and be ready for housekeeping again—after a fashion. For the past three or four days my game left leg has inflamed again—aching clear to the bone. I hav’n’t mentioned it before because I thought it would let up, with frequent rests which I had to give it. For 10 days I have had to wear slippers my worn out brogans hurting me so. Cool weather and vegatables [sic] will fix me, I am certain, in tip top order—but I would like to be able now to do away with the pain. I’m getting to be a [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] second Cur [?]

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P.G.C. Saturday October 7, 1876 Quite warm all the morning and wet most of afternoon. Considerable rain fell in several brisk showers. High winds blew at intervals. Put in floor beams to the kitchen and made a path leading from it part way to the house. Tried the grains on stray mullet with poor success. Several schools of skipjacks kept up much rippling about the wharf, but I concluded I had “no use” for them. Gave my sore ankle and leg a rest in afternoon and hope to follow it up tomorrow. It is just getting dark and Ben and I will retire early without lighting up. More tomorrow. —of course.

P.G.C. Sunday October 8, 1876 All day long the wind from the south has blown a gale. At one time it lifted my favorite arm chair from the front piazza and dashed it down the front walk. One of the rockers was broken short off. This will furnish me with another small job to make a new one. It seemed, at times, as if the house would be blown away. De Coster’s ricketty house must have trembled in its shoes. We rather expected Whidden down today but he has not yet appeared. About 3 o’c the “Santa Maria” came in slowly, although the wind was high. We did not cross preferring to go in the morning without a headwind to row against coming home. As she anchored at De Costers Fred barbered me. My head feels cooler. Near the back fence I discovered deer tracks, 3 days old, inside and crossing one of my orange mounds. Wish he had called at the house and notified me of his presence! For dinner today we had some delicious okra cooked as a vegetable. Its flavor was a mixture of green peas, green corn and lima beans. Corn beef and fried hominy helped to make it palatable. The rice heads were bowed the other way today. They all turned their [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 222 backs on us as we passed their “stand.” By the way, Freddie and Phip are now making a collection of boils. Phip has the largest. They seem to run in the family—our branch of it. Fred and Anna don’t take stock in them. The wind has fallen and quiet—only broken by the chirping of crickets and an occasional mosquito buzz—reigns outside.

P.G.C. Monday October 9, 1876 And now it rains outside. In fact at various intervals it has rained much outside. And the deacon and I got caught in one shower and got plum watered. After breakfast—after the corn and corn bread and two slips of pork each and the usual cor-fee—we held communion with nature and then we pulled over with a southerly breeze to help and dropped upon the De Coster ranche. We got our letters and only half of the papers. One bag of papers came into Key West soaked, as the steamer had been unfortunate. We also heard that the old “Clyde,” with captain, 1 passenger, and six of the crew was lost on the Florida reefs. Our latest dates were 22nd Sept. The lost papers must have been on that steamer. I got your letter of 22nd and Ben one from Mother enclosing one to me and one from her mother and one from Minna. No news from Mr. Furman and only a word about the wedding presents from Mrs R. which you will have heard by the time you receive this. This was a mere statement that the silver would not bring more than $200 and that Mrs R would talk the matter over with you, when you called. You state that you will send stove and fixments by Oct 28. That is welcome news! Exceedingly so. But I hope and trust you will not have been called upon to foot the bill or make any sacrifice to do so. Brenda and I are in earnest in the matter stated in my last letter. Whatever happens dont get yourself into any more borrowing troubles on our a/c.

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Use such means as can be raised on books, fiddle, silver and Uncle John’s good nature— if the latter bears fruit—but dont get yourself into the mine any deeper. We can get along on the barest necessaries and when we find that we can make anything here we can increase our accomodations [sic] and comforts. We are extremely thankful for the good things you and Mother will send from the “Elmlawn plantation” and only regret that you are both unable to help us eat them when they come. We are looking forward to their arrival with many joyful anticipations. Our baby kitchen will be born by that time and be able to stand alone and we hope it may grow into larger shape as it gets older. We can make it do and enjoy it all the better, small as it will be, to know that we wont deprive you of any remaining comfort. I had much hope from Uncle John, but I have become accustomed to disappointment and can even do a little Mark Tapley business under the circumstances. To go back to the mill. De Coster gives it up on Saturday. He will not be able to get out my kitchen lumber. But the mill, I am certain, will be run for the winter by William, with Gillis to manage. This I learned from Gillis himself. De Coster is almost wild and in much trouble. There is even a report current that he tried to commit suicide. He owes lumber to 3 or 4 parties and is trying to pay up before the end of the week. I saw several parties at the mill waiting for lumber and Whidden is expected tomorrow, to add one more. Fred and I waited until 4 o’c before we could get our meal ground. We talked politics meanwhile. As near as I can make out De. C., the Youmans family, and Bartholf are the only republican voters in the surrounding country. Republicans of long standing have gone over to the right side and there

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seems to be a promising state of affairs politically about us. By the “Santa Maria” I received some campaign documents from Dr. Harris, which I will try to put where they will do good. But I am pretty certain the work has all been done before me. At the mill were three men building a huge skiff. These men start off tonight for keys and bayous on a new dodge in the way of business. They propose to shoot alligators—not for their skins —but for their teeth. These teeth they sell to Jacksonville jewelers to make into trinkets for Northern tourists. They had two good rifles and a keg of powder with grapnels to rake up his majesty when he undertakes to hold on to the bottom. Besides they had plenty of provisions. Two of the men were from Jacksonville and one from the Miaca. They expect to get about 200 pounds of teeth during their trip. There’s a good business for George! They will realize somewhere about $1.000 they think. What next? By the way De Coster told us “He had the pleasure of talking to about 250 people at Fort Meyers at a political meeting and “giving them enlightenment on the situation.” Fred and I reached home at 4.30 had dinner and then took supper before our pipes had burned out. The entire day was lost over two bushels of corn.

P.G.C.Tuesday October 10, 1876 The rainy season has come again. It has rained nearly all day and the sky has been overcast and heavy clouds have wandered to the north over our heads. There was very little chance for work on the plantation. The boards were too wet to saw up and I devoted my time to fixing up tree mounds and reading. Between showers I did the [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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took my “sun-shine” indoors. Fred stuck to his carpenter shop and planed and edged up boards. Just after dinner we had a commotion on shore. We were just filling pipes. But away we rushed and saw two schools of mullet passing. Fortunately we had bailed out the skiff to see if her seams were tight—and found she had stopped leaking. So in with the net and out with the pole and we lightly skimmed the surface. We easily caught up to the 1st school and I threw. It was hard work to spread the net, the brail had got twisted, but we captured 4 fat fellows and went back. Two had small roes and the others none. Thus our “first mullet” we catch 2 days in advance of last season. More will come by and by. The skiff poles easily and we shall be able to catch all we want. Two we had for supper and the other mullet we will navigate for breakfast tomorrow. The tide was up to the boat house when we sallied forth. The wind blows more westerly and the darkness outside can almost be felt.

P.G.C. Wednesday October 11, 1876 No rain today but a healthy shower before day light. Got out most of my material for windows and doors to day—for the “kitchen” and planed them ready for use. The wind blew from the south a regular gale and our “opposite neighbors” must have got the full force of it. Small schools of mullet as shy and spry as trout appeared in front and Fred and I went for them. It was of little use. The tide was high and water deep. The net would spread over a school and settle on the backs of a dozen or so—but when the net came in there would be no mullet. Like a flash they would go to the bottom and appear at the surface again 80 feet away. In a dozen good throws I only got one fish and gave up in despair. This fellow gave us a

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“bite” apiece and we will persevere until the critters get full of roe and fat and lazy. Fred says he never poled a boat that went more easily, nor quicker, through the water. Her leaking days are over. Last evening I took Ben home from the kitchen to our landing in the skiff and a few moments ago I noticed Fred, Anna and Neuse moving along beyond the high grass, like the boat show on the stage— “the arrival of the “dhuke” and his fair bride with their faithful hound as compagum du voyage.” You could almost imagine the wheels underneath and the hidden “super” as locomotors. It is possible now that the white boat may be taken up to the house and a glass frame put over it! For three days Freddie and Phip have been making a skiff 2 feet long out of barrel staves. Freddie told me today that at last “he had got his bottom on” and was caulking it with all the stray rags he could beg of Brenda. Did I mention before that De Coster learned that the “Bonne” was just about to leave Punta Rassa for Key West when he passed there last Saturday night. She was to make two additional trips and then come up the Harbor. That will just hit the Oct. 28 freight. The rice seems ripe and ready to harvest. It is “plum yaller” and we are anxiously looking for Whidden to learn from him, as a surety, if we prognosticate correctly. Another gopher caught on my potato vines today, but he got away after I had placed him on his back in a cleared spot for safety.

P.G.C. Thursday October 12, 1876 Warm and the same old southerly breeze blowing briskly. Thermometer 88° @ 4 o’c P.M. During the night—just after bedtime, and early this morning—heavy showers visited us. Regular old rainy season droppings and there is much

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wet remaining on the surface of P.G.C. all day. The remainder of my 30 pieces for door and window frames were sawed out of whole cloth and planed today. I must try and get them together and up tomorrow and commence on the skin of the shanty. No Whidden yet. He was to be down on Saturday last. No mullet today. Fred adds another strip to the boat house and washes and scrubs the “Frou-Frou.” At tea-time we had a calm bay and I gave Brenda a skiff trip along shore and afterward did the same for Freddie and Phip. Just now the wind is rising and it roars through the pines quite grandly. Freddie and his triangular skiff are inseperable [sic] companions. He had a mast in today and paper sails rigged on. I must now change my diaper and get to bed. For the last three days I have soaked one of the Infant Micawber’s diapers and wrapped it round my leg resoaking it twice a day. It holds just a tumbler-full each time. The result is promising. The swelling has gone down and the 8 or 10 outlets for bad matter are healing. In your letter you say that Dr. Peter says that they are the result of insufficient diet. To eat less corn, and more rice and as little grease as possible. Well, I agree with him! But with corn and corn bread and generally pork for our daily meals (the rice having departed) it is rather difficult to shut off. Still on the pork question I usually take but 3 slices about 3 inches long, 1 inch wide and less than ¾ of an inch for the 3 together thick at the outside and never use the grease (or gravy) for hominy as Fred does. The deacon generally does away with an average of 4 slices and uses 2 tablespoon fulls of clear grease at a meal and yet he has nothing in the “bile” line to show for it. Cool weather and a vegetable diet will bring matters all right and I eagerly look forward to the Oct 28 freight.

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P.G.C. Friday October 13, 1876 Rain again. A quantity fell during the night and more fell today; in fact it has fallen nearly all day. What little work we could do was indoors work. Fred mended the sail and I fitted window and door frames. About supper time De Coster came over for laudanum to make him sleep. He will celebrate George’s and the baby’s birthday tomorrow by having a row with Williams. He has paid in $700. and dont like to give up the mill without getting back some of his outlay. He and “Uncle Tom” will hold a confab tomorrow and he will try to get a reprieve and run the mill a short time longer. He is anxious to get out “lumber for a new house.” The meeting will be stormy. De Coster went over both places and remarked: “If all our people would only go right at it and improve as rapidly as you two have we will have a grand country here one of these days.” I thought he would follow with a request for a loan, but he didn’t. According to report, which he “learned of” at Punta Rassa, we are to have a mail route, with all the modern improvements, between Pine Level Charlotte Harbor, Punta Rassa, and Fort Meyers. Mails are to be brought and taken away over a week. Schultz at Punta Rassa said that the route was to go into operation on the 15th of Sept, but arrangements have not fully been made yet. The “dept” or some one in authority has notified Bartholf of the fact and asked him to secure a mail rider—not a female—between Pine Level and Charlotte Harbor— and De Coster expects to run the rest of the route with the “Sainted Maria.” On Sunday Bartholf will go to Pine Level to mail a petition for the postmastership which is being signed by the numerous population in this locality—we, Fred and I, will probably go over tomorrow and add

Page 229 our autographs and at the same time I will get P.M. Bartholf to halt my “diarrhea” for the past 16 or 17 days. This mail route will be the same in results as that in operation 3 years ago, with the Punta Rassa and Fort Meyers route added. And it is expected that a letter posted on mail day will reach you in 8 days. This “virtue brings its reward.” There seems to be considerable certainty in this route being in operation before long. But dont be too sanguine until you hear positively from us to send letters thataway. We are having a regular October rainy season. It would seem as if the strong southerly gales had blown the regular tropical rains over Florida. Had I no kitchen to put up, nor other work on hand, I should exert my hoe toward getting up a few more hills for “standover” potatoes, but I will be prepared in another year to take advantage of such an arrival of rain. Today we had sweet potatos for dinner—the first time in a long while. They were some of my “standovers” of last year and tasted “right smart.” There is a promise of pleasant weather tomorrow, the sun having “sot” in fiery clouds and the wind blowing now N.E. Still in this country, you can’t most always sometimes tell. We’ll find out, however, tomorrow.

D.C.’s Ranche Santurday October 14. 1876 Fred and I have just rowed over in “Frou Frou” and we propose sending a batch of diary and letters home Via Pine Level. Before coming we tackled a school of mullet and got one only. A big school is coming up and we will hurry back to go for them. The day is a lovely one—following an early morning fog. The “infant Mick” gives up “tickey” today. He is 2 years old. We are all well and trust you are all ditto. No special news others than what I have written. Ever etc. Jarvee

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Pinty Gordy Checker Fla. Charlotte’s Harbor (ditto) October 14, 1876

My dear Pa,

As I sit me down beneath the rays of our red oil-lamp to indite the incidents of the day in this “sunny clime,” I have a tropical fragrance of lemons and limes wafted to my eager nostrils, in such a manner as you cold denizens of the frozen north hardly experience among snow and ice, and the shivers of the approaching northern winter. [circled period] (Period). You would not be aware of it hardly if I didn’t tell you that I—and Fred too— have passed the day at De Coster’s. We went over to post letters, Via Pine Level, and De Coster was so anxious that we should lend our moral support to his confab with Williams, that we had to stay to dinner and wait. Williams did not appear, and we are to hold ourselves in readiness to go over “on call.” He proposes to make some such arrangement as this: To give up the mill, providing Williams will keep it for the winter—and longer if possible—on his land opposite, and also if he is willing to accept such logs as De Coster will furnish and give in payment one half the lumber sawed out of them. This is similar to an arrangement—the lumber portion—De Coster had with a man named Langford. Should Williams agree De Coster will get his lumber for a new house, and also such as I may want for a new kitchen. The pay for the latter he is then willing to wait for. He wished Fred and me to be on hand to help draw up the agreement, and witness the signatures. But in waiting we lost the entire day. It was almost supper time when we got home, with hat and pockets loaded with limes, lemons and guavas. De Coster’s latest idea is for Fred and me to start a newspaper, and he will guarantee 10.000 subscribers. How will he get them? Simply, by making a lecture tour through Maine, talk up

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Charlotte Harbor; interest his hearers to that extent that he will get from 50 to 100 subscribers, to the “paper that will give full information on tropical agriculture and farming,” every time he lectures. It sounds well—but I dont think we will start the paper just yet. Congratulate Baggs for me and Brenda on his 24th birthday. May his shadow never grow less! The baby now becomes a boy—not George—but our “infant Mick,” as he has a birthday and enters on his 3rd year, as one of us, having given up the “lactial” for cow and hominy—with his specific physic of cornstarch and farina added. It is warm tonight and will be ditto to-morrow. Sandflies abundant at dusk and mosquitoes quite frisky.

P.G.C. Sunday October 15, 1876 Before breakfast this A.M. Fred and I with pole, skiff and net went down below the head prospecting for mullet. We found none and returned to pork and corn bread. During the morning I got a few more standovers and Fred some okra for dinner. Corn beef was the piece de resistance. At 20 minutes to 3 Ben and I took Frou Frou for a row leaving Freddie to look after his younger brothers and hanging the water pail high and hiding the box of matches. We were gone just 2 ¼ hours and managed to have a lovely time of it. We went along shore to Camp Whiffles, then up the Bonne Channel and around by way of the “Hewes House” and Bird Key house. We came from the Hewes House to Fred’s dock in just 40 minutes. While we were away Freddie behaved like a first class nurse girl, but once getting tired of waiting he and Phip took the baby over to Freds. This was the baby’s 2nd visit in 3 months to that locality, the last time merely passing through to get in the boat to go over to De Costers. However, as soon as he got there he was sent home and

Page 232 we arrived shortly afterward. Fred and Anna have “no use” for any such small fry. The row we took was the longest one that Brenda had made since she has been in Florida and she enjoyed it amazingly. She wanted to take some of her mites, but I thought she would get more enjoyment by being alone for this once. As soon as we can arrange it—in a month or two—we are going to take a day off and take all the children up Peace Creek as far as we can go on the up tide have dinner under the cabbages and return with the return tide. We have had a glorious day of fine weather and tonight a gale blows from the east. It is cool and pleasant and the doors and windows and house shakes as if an “arth-quake” was rampaging. By the way De Coster signed the petition for postmaster on Bartholfs account “N.H. De Coster J.P. andC. M.,” which “handle” is supposed to stand for “Justice of the Peace and County Corn-Missioner.”

P.G.C. Monday October 16, 1876 All last night and all day long the heaviest kind of a nor’easter has been blowing steadily. It still continues, with no signs of a let-up. The tide is low in consequence and when the wind changes—if no more rain comes—we expect a run of mullet. Fred commenced harvesting his rice today but only cut 6 rows. They look quite “grainy” in their 12 bundles “curing” on Fred’s back piazza. The remainder will be cut when there is a show of sunshine and fair weather. A portion of the day was misty. I put in the braces to the little shanty and also put my two door and two window frames together. I did intend to put them up and commence siding—but I will do that tomorrow and commence the day square. We have had no message from De Coster. Perhaps Uncle Tom dont want the mill.

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P.G.C. Tuesday October 17, 1876 More wind, more rain. Much wind; heavy; grand gales. A little of all sorts of miserable weather. Sky cloudy. Only occasional sunshine. Fog drizzle and mist with showers. Not only rain showers, but bird showers. Cat birds and rice birds, with two other varieties came upon us. Some came indoors. All seemed stunned and “keerless” like. At one time we had three birds fluttering among the beams overhead. Phip and the baby were delighted at the visit. The tide in bay was very low. It exposed crabs and Fred went for them with net and crab basket to find some thing with which to fill our bread baskets. We had crabs for dinner—and corn. Corn and corn at the other meals and a little pork added for breakfast. Where’s them mullet? “Gone where the woodbine twineth.” It was a fine day for harvesting (!) and house building (!) but a good one for naps. Between showers, mist and sprinkles I placed my doors and window frames and sided up nearly ½ the kitchen. It was slow music and the time was solemn. It blows furiously from N.E. now, the mites have gone to quarters and the blankets will keep us all warm. A flock of about 30 ducks went past day before yesterday—Send ‘em down with a long pole.

P.G.C. Wednesday October 18, 1876 The high wind still continues, although the sun set gorgeously in a mass of red and gold clouds. Rain fell quite lively during the afternoon—and yet the temperature was about 88° and much warmer than for the past two days. I nearly finished siding the little kitchen, but some work remains for tomorrow still. I am anxious to get through this little job and go to work fixing up my remaining trees, and prepare for some fall planting of various kinds. Fred prepared ground for “tommies” and will soon have plants to set out. I must do so too. It is full time. And I am in hopes of finishing my kitchen this week and do it.

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The mill has been running, as usual, and we have heard nothing from De Coster. Whidden has not appeared and the situation remains unchanged so far as we know on this side of the stream. The last time we were over Whidden’s lumber was being sawed out and I suppose it will be all ready for him when he does come. I am glad of it, for De Coster’s sake for Whidden would have been vexed at promises not kept and his friendship would have been lost to De C. Just before supper a small white sloop came in and dropped anchor opposite. Can’t make it out. The mites now talk about “Going over to the kitchen” and we begin to feel homelike again already.

P.G.C. Thursday October 19, 1876 It is long past dusk—perhaps near 9 o’c—and we are having one of the most fearful gales from the eastward that I have yet experienced in Florida. The house fairly trembles with the howling bursts and the floor shakes and rumbles as if an earthquake were in progress. As I sat reading the paper would vibrate. Half an hour ago I rushed out and braced up my little kitchen, fearing that it might be blown over. There is almost as much movement among tables and chairs as on a ferry boat in crossing the East River. All day long the gale has been blowing, but very much more fiercely after dark. During the day we had plenty of rain, in misty, long-continued spells, with occasional showers of wetter quality. The ground is soaked and covered with pools of water again. All the water is blown out of the harbor and we expect when the blow is over and we have fair weather to get plenty of mullet. As I could do nothing on the kitchen owing to the rain I fixed up the cast net. I believe I have given six full hours to the knotty subject of [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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were nearly parted from the net and I have made the circuits—with the exception of 5 feet—tying on each one in true fisherman style. The day has been disagreable [sic] and gloomy and our short rations have not improved it. With the wind now howling and “lifting” about us rain is falling and it beats in through siding and sashes at a prodigious rate. At Fred’s it must be even worse. We made our trips to Fred’s to meals without much soaking; at supper time we caught the most wet. The bell to summon us to table could not be heard and as it was after dark Fred signaled with his “hurricane” lamp. It was very apropos. The “hurricane” now rages.

P.G.C. Friday October 20, 1876 From 6 o’c last evening until long after daylight this morning we had one continued blast from Boreas that fairly distanced any thing I saw in Florida or else where. By bed time the floor was wet and running. The rain beat in through the easterly side of the house almost as rapidly as if it had been lattice work. The wind gradually increased in power until it became positively fearful. The house shook like the stern sheets of the “Andrew Harder” going up the Hudson and when we finally got to bed we could hardly realize that we were not on a steamboat in some fearful gale. It was impossible to sleep. Such roaring and howling and crashing of wind and rain on the roof and side of the house became appaling [sic]. Toward midnight it had increased to such an extent that we certainly began to fear that the house would blow down. You cannot imagine the intense feeling of horror that each blast gave us, for each one was more powerful than the last. The bed fairly danced and the house rose and fell as if on wheels moving through the “piney woods.” I was sure that my little kitchen would be bottom side up, or out of shape, this morning and afraid that the house would

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dance off the blocks. I was up and down, watching Fred’s lamps as he watched mine, dressing and undressing and constantly looking for indications of weakness in the frame. The windows seemed to be ready to give way at any moment, as the heavy sheets of rain would crash against them like masses of hailstones! The three children slept through the whirl of the tempest, but we—Ben and I—could not. Fred dressed himself—he afterwards told me—and sat up the entire night, momentarily expecting our arrival as he was afraid our house would prove untenantable. At 1 o’c the boat bell signal sounded as the boat was blown up against the sides of the boat house, where she was found this morning not damaged but full of water. At midnight the wind shifted more to the north and then it came upon us with even more vigor. Rush succeeded rush, and the trembling and shaking increased. The house bobbed up and down and seemed by degrees to bounce along the blocks. It was awful and we became aware of what mere atoms we human beings are. Such force and power was terrible. At daylight the bursts became less frequent and the storm by degrees reduced itself to an ordinary gale. There we looked anxiously toward Fred’s and were gladdened by seeing his house loom up in the morning light all safe. Then we looked at the kitchen. That was all right also. In fact all our buildings were untouched—with the exception of Fred’s store house. That lost 9 boards of its roof. Then we looked across the bay. At first we could only see the mill and the Ross house, but as day light grew brighter De Coster’s shanty came out in relief against his woods. But outside among trees and plants havoc had planted a heavy foot. Every tree was “t------“ [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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la Tennyson—to the south. Some of their branches were entirely stripped of leaves. Freds big Mamilla [?] was on its side and was mine. The vine on Fred’s kitchen was torn down and entirely stripped of leaves. Mine was ditto. Rose bushes geraniums and all plants were flat. The ground was soft and very much water logged and there was no substance to hold on to. The rice was flat; even with the ground; but we hope to save most of the crop. And the bay was running like a small sea full of foam and white caps. It was a rough, uncouth sight all round. The skiff had been anchored to the big wharf on the westerly side. After daylight the wind got round to N.W. and she was full of water and rubbing badly. Fred made an attempt to get her ashore and failed. I went out on hands and knees, clinging to the boards to prevent being blown off and managed to get her through. But the strain was too much and I had to let her drift ashore, where I managed, by getting up to my knees, to get her up on the grass and tie her fast. After breakfast we went to work righting trees and repairing damages. We fixed all the trees with stakes that needed it and then we mopped up indoors and put things into shape. The wind lulled during the morning, but blew still heavily until long after dinner. Tonight it is quiet and we have recovered our lost spirits, thanked Heaven we were not blown over, and will sleep comfortably and quietly. The children this morning when they woke up saw the big puddles and immediately showed delight at the fact “that now they could sail their schooners and lighters in the house.” Tell George his “hurricane” has come at last—and gone. We have all been a pretty sleepy crowd today. I tried to do some more on the kitchen but it was of no use. So I fixed up the net and repaired damages generally.

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Freddie unconsciously got off quite a good joke at tea table tonight. To preface matters you must know that we are unusually sober and sedate at meal times. I was delayed at the house after the tea bell rang and all the rest of the colony were seated at table, when Freddie remarked: “Papa wont be over just yet as he is fixing his saws.” There was increased soberness for saws and sores have pretty much the same sound! Brenda endeavored to hush up Nick with: “You mus’t speak of such things at the table, Freddie.” He tried again and again Brenda stopped him. Matters grew embarrasing [sic] and at last after repeated efforts Freddie in a loud stage whisper insisted, “But, Mamma; he was greasing the saws he cuts with; those he cuts wood with.” The explanation brought on a general laugh, long and loud—even the “deacon” joined in—and in the midst of it I opened the door, entered, and anxious to excuse my delay added my mite: “I would have been over sooner but I was oiling up the saws and thought I’d finish as my hands were in.” This caused a renewed burst and puzzled me until later to know where the point came in. To end up with allow me to say today is the 7th anniversary of our wedding day. Are we not getting elderly?

P.G.C. Saturday October 21, 1876 A lovely day greets us. Gillis, Newt Waldron and Pepi dropped over after breakfast. The former expected a horse down from Williams place to go home with and the two latter came over for mullet. I learned much news. De Coster and Williams had a settle ment. The mill now belongs to Williams and Gillis will run it after two weeks delay for new belting etc. The settlement was satisfactory to both De C. and Williams but the “points” I could not learn. Newt Waldron was at Lockharts with Dennis Driggers and John Key during the big blow. The alligator hunters, having killed 13, were there also. And they all say the house stood the gale, braced as it was on all sides, easily, although [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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had with unusual for sight selected the lowest place for a building spot and after the storm found himself surrounded by 2 feet of water. Newt had been on a hunt with some Pine Level people, including “old man Curry,” and he had left them for the Driggers party. But in the “Pine Level hunt” Curry alone had a “shooting iron.” He carried his old “Kaintuck.” Unfortunately when they got among deer Curry found that his powder flask —or horn—was empty and his rifle not loaded. The hunt was therefore made a fishery. They caught plenty of fish and tried to be satisfied. Driggers in the other party used my pistol for deer. He had shot many and it had never gone back on him. After detailing news Pepi and Waldron went off toward the lower wharf, Gillis started after deer and as our larder was low Fred and I concluded to try our luck. I got the skiff ready, Fred got some corn and some corn bread for lunch and we poled easily to the old wharf, taking alternate stretches at the pole. There was‘n’t the sign of a mullet school all the way down and the water at the wharf was fresh and so muddy we could’n’t strike, but we found Lockhart and wife with ½ a dozen big red fish and some cat fish in the bottom of his skiff, still fishing with a drop line. He offered us the loan of his hook and we therefore pulled in shore caught ½ a dozen crabs with the grains and tried our luck, while our “neighbor” went home—stopping in a bunch of palms to cut a cabbage and yell for hogs between each cut. We fished for 2 hours or more, ate our lunch, caught our cat fish, and the wind and tide turning fair we up stakes, disgusted, and started for home. We stopped at Lockharts on our way back went over his place again, saw his improvements—how he had cleared ½ an acre of the richest land on the bay, more than half shell mound— accepted two big red fish and poled home. Gillis we found fast asleep on the little wharf, his bare feet toasting in the afternoon sun, and his boots upside down beside him drying. He had walked 6 miles and seen but “one little deer” which he didn’t get.

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His horse had not come and he was “clean tired a waitin’.” We were home in good season. Our fish Fred cleaned for supper and I the other for breakfast. While at work Gillis asked me “how much I charged for takin’ pictures.” I didn’t understand at first. “I hear,” said G. “you take folks or any thing you see first rate. How much do you get for it.” “Why, Gillis, I only do that for pleasure, I never charge anything.” “Do you have any sort of a daguerrotypin? machine, or how do you make’sur?” “Merely with the pencil.” Then he was anxious to know how much such a machine would cost and he seemed to think there was a good opening for business of that sort down here. Perhaps there is. Gillis finally borrowed the skiff and poled over to return “soon” in the morning and we had the entire fish to ourselves. The other Anna salted for breakfast. You may imagine we had a treat.

P.G.C. Sunday October 22, 1876 All day long we have had most delightful weather. Warm but tempered with a pleasant breeze. Before I was up Gillis came. He proposed walking to Youmans and going to Ogden for his horse. Fred loaned the skiff instead and he will bring back both horse and skiff on Tuesday. He stated that Pepi caught a barrel of fish at the mouth of the Miaca and if none come before Thursday Fred and I will go down there and do likewise. We may find them nearer but sure there. For the first time we dug some new potatoes today. Fred and I both. But the result was meagre. The weather has been so wet that vines are plenty and tubers scarce. A month of dry weather will make a vast change for the better. According to all accounts potatoes dont grow when the weather is damp, but only after the heavy rains. They make vines during the rainy season, take root, and bear fruit afterward. That is on natural ground. On cow penned land they “bust the hills” at any time. By the way I

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forgot to state before that De Coster’s cocoanut was blown over. Not fully however and he thinks he can right it. Some of Newt Waldrons orange trees even also “top=tilted” but easily righted.

P.G.C. Monday October 23, 1876 Swampy, wet and all sorts. Rain fell at intervals all day. Tonight it wears around from the N.W. to it with a cool atmosphere and promises of a Norther. More standing water here about the place than during the wettest of the rainy season. The path to Fred’s however was a trifle drier and Ben had no cause to don her pattens. It was a slow day for the youngsters and we grown folks had much trouble to keep busy. My boards were saturated on the kitchen in a pool of 4 inches of water. I could do no work there. It was a day for fussing and reading and one in which there seemed no way of doing any thing of account. We therefore poked through it moistly and look for a change tomorrow. During the afternoon Fred got in some seeds in a box for early planting while I run off as much water as I could. When the soil gets dryer I will put in my “hot bed contribution” and try my luck.

P.G.C. Tuesday October 24, 1876 Cool and fall-like. A “mild norther” of short duration held fast all day, but has sobered down at dark. The low tide warrants us in looking for mullet tomorrow. But they may not come for several days. The skiff was not returned and we may have to go after it. The siding is all on the kitchen. Tomorrow will be devoted to roof boards. My plants box, of large dimensions is also ready for seeds, which I will plant tomorrow. At dinner time Tax Collector Youmans and Ian (Harrison) with July arrived in a cranky skiff. They were invited to make themselves comfortable, while we ate dinner. Then they “looked at” the place—particularly the chickens—which took the old man’s fancy. Fred gave Harrison a dozen varieties of seed to try and they left for home about 3 o’c. There was

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quite a “swap” of agricultural news, item, and gossip. Both Fred and I got some new wrinkles which we will practise [sic] on. If successful you will hear from them. The old gentleman seemed to think that their [sic] was a prospect of the new R.R. following our side of the bay and making a terminus at Punta Gorda. But what he bases it on I could not discover. It would be right handy should such a movement be contemplated. But it seems rather dubious. Harrison and Gillis went to Ogden on Sunday. Gillis went 15 miles further for his horse and H. came back. To-day Fred cut more than ½ his rice. It pans out pretty well but would have done better if it could have ripened fully and been housed before the “blow.” It looks nicely on Freds piazza in its numerous bundles. The surface is still wet but the wind is drying it up rapidly. This last rain has not benefitted our potatoes much. Youmans says that most of those planted up country are dying out— “sobbed out,” with wet. Naturally potatoes will be clean in Key West and I hope we will have some to send there. Fred’s are doing extremely well and mine look quite thrifty— but might have been better yet, had the rain not come so heavily.

P.G.C. Wednesday October 25, 1876 Bright, cool and pleasant. A glorious Florida day. The “norther” —mild as “mother’s milk” —blew lustily and the bay was full of lettuce. Quite a “heft” of it came ashore and tomorrow we will try to gather it, as it is the only good show we have had this summer. Fred cut the remainder of the rice to day and it all remains stacked on his piazza. About ½ past 10 o’c, finding the “Bed Bug” not arrived and fearful of an arrival of mullet first, Fred and I started for Youman’s in “Frou Frou.” We rowed up against tide along our shore, and ½ a mile beyond Camp Whiffle wharf landed at a shell mound at the mouth of a tide creek. On top of this mound, surrounded by tall, crooked cabbages, was a small house not quite [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 243 built rather neatly and shingled, which was the residence of Harrison Youmans. On a bench outside sat a female of 50 or thereabouts and a short distance back a younger and more “stubbed” woman was attending to the getting of dinner. The stove on which the fire was burning was formed of palmetto logs, crossed as in “log house” buildings, offering a surface, of perhaps 4 x 6, with a bed of clay to build the fire upon. It was a regular altar where sacrifices of burnt offerings of corn, sweet potatoes, and venison and hogs were made 3 times a day. The younger female was rather good looking for a cracker. Her eyes were bright and black and her hair short and black. Her dress came just below her knees and two sturdy bare legs with pretty good sized feet, instead of peeping in and out, came boldly forth for admiration (!) A few chickens were picking among the shells and scratching up the rich earth and one old gray cat was sharpening her claws in a cabbage. We said “Howdy” and looked about. Harrison and Pa had gone to the mill and were expected shortly. In answer to Fred’s question “if the potatoes over the fence there were “doing well” the old lady said: “Them’s bully potaters.” We walked up to the fence and made our own observations. They looked splendidly and the ground was black and hummocky. There was nearly an acre of them and this place was only settled “a little above 6 months.” We both concluded that the soil would grow anything. On getting back to the house the old lady presented us with a pan full of limes and we left our good wishes, took the skiff and Fred poled “hit” while I rowed the white boat back. At the C.W. wharf we met Harrison returning with his meal. Fred thanked him for the limes and regretted not seeing him at home. H. remarked that “He had no use for the limes as his sugar had given out and we was welcome to ‘ein.” So we concluded we did

Page 244 him a favor in taking them away. We reached home just as the “folks” had finished dinner and we fell to with a glorious appetite and demolished the corn-beef hash, corn and corn bread “right smart.” Then I sawed out roof boards and Fred tied up and stacked his rice. In the midst of work the “Santa Maria” put up sails and departed, but where we cannot imagine. Sand flies in huge clouds congregate on the southerly sides of our shanties at dusk, and they make an infernal buzzing.

P.G.C.Thursday October 26, 1876 While Fred hosted up a dinner with gun in hand I edged the rough edge for the kitchen roof. About 40 boards brought over in the lighter load were only ½ inch thick. Therefore I turn them to account by straightening the edges for an inner skin to the kitchen roof of rough edge. By this means I hope to make our little box watertight. 1600 shingles would be far better but—they are not get-at-able.. This morning I finished edging enough for one side and hoped to do more this afternoon. I felt weak and unable to do any and therefore fixed rowlocks and some other necessaries to the skiff. Fred put the sail on the mast and we are now ready for long trips after mullet, if they dont show up soon. The weather today has been delightful. The wind blew it E. and strong. The tide was extremely low. The result of Fred’s shooting was 4 wood doves and these he had for dinner—with our corn and corn bread as the only stock on hand besides.

P.G.C. Friday October 27, 1876 A strong breeze was blowing from N.E. as we sat down to breakfast. While waiting for the “rattle of the bell” I made two cleats “for the skiff and prepared for a trip down to the lower wharf and perhaps to the Miaca. Breakfast over we put up sail in the blue skiff and with cast=net, grains, fish lines, and Freds gun, we started. It was the first sail trip of the skiff. I steered and Fred went “before the mast.” We moved rapidly

Page 245 and soon drew up at Lockharts, when Fred went ashore to leave some seeds...As we went on the wind increased and my pantaloon’s seat became damp from following waves. In a little over an hour we had weathered Punta Gorda and pulled up at the old camping ground. The skiff behaved splendidly. At the spot we left sail and extras and I rowed down to the wharf. Catching ½ a dozen crabs we tried the drop line. Fred threw in and he was rewarded by a fine 4 lb. trout. After a while he drew in another. Then we waited long but got no more bites. I poled out to the end of the wharf before commencing the fishing and Fred fired at a dozen cormorants. He got one. After fishing we tried again and he got No. 2. Then we had lunch of corn cake and water and went in shore for more crabs. There Fred went on shore for game and I returned to fish. His gun “popped” often but I caught only cat fish. The birds were plenty. Toward 4 o’c Fred came back. The tide was very low and I poled to meet him. He had used up his powder and had 1 brown curlew, 1 Spanish curlew, 11 willet and 2 snipe to show for it. The wind was blowing harder than ever. We cleaned and salted the trout, took the breasts from the cormorants and started for home. The water was fresh, with mullet and red fish scattering and off the point a heavy sea. At first we were fearful that we should stop out all night in Punta Gorda, but Fred at the oars and I with pole managed to reach the 1st wharf by sunset, Lockharts at dark and home by a little after 7 o’c. The last 3 miles I rowed and Fred poled. All this in the face of a strong wind, which dashed waves over us and wet us completely, and a tide that was running out all the time. On our way out we passed the “Santa Maria” coming in and on getting back found here stuck in the mud off Platt’s Point. The cormorants were cooked for our supper the skiff anchored off the wharf and a good long puff of tobacco has set us up.

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P.G.C. Saturday Oct 28, 1876 Today is but a repetition of yesterday concerning the weather. A strong breeze has been blowing from N.E. and tonight it is calm and quiet. I played saw mill and edged up “roof edge,” accomplishing the end of that kind of work. The trout gave us a most delicious breakfast and dinner. We all enjoyed the portion of the fruits of yesterdays “marketing.” At noon Gillis came in on a sorry sorrel horse. He had ridden over 20 miles. He tells woful [sic] tales of up country trouble. The big gale was a big hurricane there. One house had floor and roof carried a hundred feet and the sides fell in on the family without hurting them. Fences were blown down and trees uprooted. One cracker had every rail scatted [sic] and nothing left to show where his fence stood. Cabbage trees were twisted from their roots and carried rods away. He passed one piece of woods where the hurricane had ploughed a path through it dropping every tree. At Pine Island telegraph station he heard that Key West suffered a great deal of damage. All boats but 3 were blown away or wrecked. Among the 3 saved was the “Bonne.” The “Laura” was lost. She sailed the night before or was blown away in the gale. Nothing has been heard from her since. I hope she had no freight destined for me—or us. She may have had letters. If so, I trust sincerely there were no enclosures. Weeks and two niggers were captain and crew. News comes also over the wires that two steamers were lost. I cant see how anything could have lived in such a gale—even as we found it. Gillis says the visitation up the country is some thing very unusual. The streams were flooded and he was compelled to swim thru stream. He borrowed the skiff again promising to return it early tomorrow mor[n]ing and he has gone over to order new boxes, a new belt and new smokestack for the mill. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 247 again to my artistic abilities and wanted to know “How much I would charge to picture him.” There were others at the mill anxious to be “pictured” and he was to make the trial and if satisfactory the others would claim attention. I told him that perhaps someday I’d try him. De Coster has just sent over to Fred for more laudanum and some medicine for George Edgar. They are both ailing. On his late trip with the “Santa Maria” he got “only a barrel of fish.”

P.G.C. Sunday October 29, 1876 Yesterday I suppose was a busy day with you. We all made frequent references to the shipping of goods and goodies and tried to imagine what you were doing at different hours. To-day we can see the “aforesaid” approaching and you back in Kinderhook tired out and talking over between you about their reception by us. We shall be a happy party if all goes well. The “Bonne” is expected in somewhere about Sunday next. More easterly and N.E. winds but not quite so heavy as in past days. This afternoon clouds hovered over us and rain dropped upon us but not heavily. We had birds for breakfast and birds for dinner, with some new sweet potatoes and okra. My ! but did’n’t they taste good! Some remain for tomorrows dinner. Gillis came over about 7 o’c and left for home. He expects to return on Friday. We all dressed up today to do honor to the “Birdlings;” Ben and Anna had on their best caps and gowns Phip, Freddie and the baby Came out in brass buttons and Fred and I “perked” up also. Neuse took the bones and rolled his eyes heavenward with as much “grace” as possible. It still blows and the sky is over cast.

P.G.C. Monday October 30, 1876 Cool, breezy and overcast. Same old wind from N.E. and blowing briskly. At noon a small schooner “have in sight” stopped at De Coster’s and sailed about [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Fred thrashed the rice to day and the result is rather meagre. Just one bushel of rough rice was the result. The bunches with what remains on them will be given out to the chickens. Tomorrow I’ll measure the ground occupied by the rice and figure the yield per acre. In any future attempt however there could not be a poorer crop for weather and location were decidedly against us. I got 1/3 of the roof on kitchen and will try hard to finish up tomorrow. Fred helped me put up the cross strips and I continued alone while he thrashed rice. The body of the shanty will have three layers of rough edge and it takes time to nail them on.....The little building looks “right housy” tonight. Occasional small flocks of ducks may now be seen flying down and up the bay. The last of the birds shot Friday went their proper course at noon today. We almost scent the coming vegetables from Kinderhook. They must be in the neighborhood of Charleston about this time. We shall be ready to cry “Welcome to there [sic] shores.” before long. The “infant Mick” has lately grown quite an appetite and he will do justice to the good things, with the rest of us.

P.G.C. Tuesday October 31, 1876 N.E. winds and a cool atmosphere. For several days the mercury has bobbed between 60° and 70°. Tonight I feel tired out and used up. The main reason was the roofing of the kitchen. Incidental additions were a hog hunt and fixing up the fence to keep out porkers and also to make strong the piece the [sic] reaches out in the water blown down in the gale. About 9 o’c the little white sloop visable [sic] at daylight tacked across and after passing a boat came ashore with two odd looking characters within it. As they came near one shouted: “Want to buy some fish?” “What kind?” “Grrrrouper.” “How much? “50 cent for big one, 25 cent for little one; all alive [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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look at them.” Out stepped Robinson Crusue (just as if he had stepped from the picture in Freddie’s book) and his man Friday with a net full of big grouper and waded ashore. R.C. had red pants on—bright red—that came just below his knees—with jagged ends as if worn out to that point—blue shirt, and a regular Crusoe hat. The skiff looked as if it might have been hollowed out of a log. I picked out one 12 pounder and a six pounder, paid my 75 cents and with a “good bye” carried my trophies over to Fred’s. They kicked and flopped until my finger joints grew loose. One fellow we had for dinner and more for supper with still more left for tomorrow’s breakfast. The rest Fred salted. But they did not compare in flavor to the trout Fred caught. Just before noon as I was balancing myself in mid air and nailing on roof boards I heard that nasal French “Oui! Oui!” that used to startle me last year about this time. An old black sow and four “shotes” made a call through the back fence. I just went for those “Heathen Chinee” and the “slit in the right ear” and “under crop” in the left showed that they belonged to the Lockhart family. Fred came over and we put them out. Then they made for the beach. I struck across lots to head them off. But, Jerushy Tompkins! was’n’t I skeurt! I stepped on a snake about three feet long; what kind I don’t know, and the critter ran up the leg of my pantaloon. I danced the “tarantula” and Freddie stood and laughed until I thought he would split. But I got him out and no damage was done. The pigs were waiting at the opening not being mean enough to take advantage of such a contretemps. To make sure I had to fix up the fence and cover all holes. In the afternoon I succeeded better in roofing and finishe ¾ of my job. Fred cleaned out his store house to make ready for what may come next week. And [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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We are plum tired out tonight. In measuring the rice patch I find that it contains about 1/13 of an acre. The actual yield harvested was 1 bushel of rough rice, but about 1 bushel more was wasted by the gale and by bird pickings as it lay on the ground. In my humble estimation the patch would under fair weather, have returned at the rate of 25 bushels of rough rice to the acre, which is a very good showing for a first experiment. Old Youmans said by planting watermelon seeds now ripe melons will “use” in that locality somewhere about Feby 1—if no frost comes. I put in 50 seeds this afternoon as an experiment. Ben has just donned a mustard plaster and turned in, having taken quite a severe cold while washing. I’ll follow, and don instead my iron clad nightshirt.

P.G.C. Wednesday November 1, 1876 That same old searching breeze drops upon us, but commencing later in the day and ending earlier, without as much force as formerly. Ben felt much better this morning, but Anna is on the sick list to day. As soon as Fred appeared at the kitchen, Ben started over to get breakfast but the “deacon” preferred to go it alone. Some of the gr=r=r=ouper was not quite done yesterday and that must have caused Anna’s trouble. Fred came over in the night for brandy to ease the pain, but it did not let up until near noon today. Fred, therefore, got breakfast, Brenda dinner and Anna came to the kitchen rather pale and weak and helped make tea. A good night’s rest will, I hope, put her all right. Just after breakfast a school of mullet came capering by and Fred and I took 13 from the leading bunch. Before we could get more a school of porpoises went in for breakfast and scattered them. We retired from the field satisfied. Fred cleaned the fish and I went to work on the kitchen. The little box is covered, with the exception of two boards tonight. Tomorrow I commence on the floor. A small schooner

Page 251 proved to be Bill Allen’s. She dropped upon us before supper. Bill Allen’s son said, “Father’s gone up to Ogden after his wife, and we are waiting for him.” De Coster sent by him for some more laudanum and “the son” took it over, with a note from Fred saying that he thought the judge was taking “rather too much.” So far Fred must have sent him ½ a tea-cup full. Allen left considerable news. The “Laura” is in Key West sunk. The “Bonne” has gone wrecking but must be up river on election day. The “Laura” will probably be raised in a few days and either she or the “Bonne” will bring our freight—we hope. We hear also that the steamer “City of Houston” had run ashore on the reefs in the gale and that another steamer met with disaster. However, you will know more about that kind of news than we. There is a scent of dried apples and pears in the air tonight. It must come across Florida on the N.E. wind from Jupiter Inlet. For the past two or three days we have been feasting on new sweet potatoes. They are indeed “bully!” As yet, however, they are not very full grown. The mullet were delicious at dinner and the roes of good size.

P.G.C. Thursday November 2, 1876 Warm and sultry. Plenty of sunshine and but few clouds. Towards noon it was intensely hot. At last a change in the wind occurs, after dinner it blew from the west and tonight, after an hours lull at dusk, it comes quite breezily from N.W. The bay has been lively with sails today. Allen’s boat still made tacks about it. The “Mary” came in from Manatee and went up Bird Key Channel. Two colored voters came over for mullet and got some. Key, Cash, Newt Waldron and Pepi in another boat on a similar errand visited “our shores” at noon. And at supper time the fisherman’s white sloop came down from Ogden and I have just seen her beating across to De Coster’s in the light of the full moon. The Key party stopped to say that the polls would be open at Ogden on next Tuesday for CH. voters and they were anxious for [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 252 with pain and Fred thinks it is caused by a combination of underdone fish and a cold resulting in considerable inflammation which is extremely painful. Fred and I both suffered to day from eating too much mullet. He worked his off, but I had to give in and feel pretty well used up tonight. The first batch of mullet last year—as George can tell you—upset us then. Half a dozen mullet schools passed in procession about noon today, but we didnt trouble them. As to work I got the first floor board down before I let myself down with mullet roe. I hope to do better tomorrow. Fred cleaned out the hen house— made a fine collection of hen trod earth—and tickled up the roosters, by promises of good treatment if they would attend more strictly to business. We are looking anxiously for the first fall egg. To day Freddie gave Phip a ride in the skiff. He will make a “polist” one of these days. Fred dug some fine ‘taters today. My turn comes next. Mosquitoes lively and healthy. Too many cooks didn’t spoil the broth today. Fred and Brenda got breakfast, Ben played it alone on dinner and Fred made a lone hand on tea. Ben was anxious, naturally, to do all the cooking and kitchen work, during Anna’s illness, but the deacon seems just as anxious to add his help too. Between them both the meals come on the table with damage only to the old adage...

P.G.C. Friday November 3, 1876 Warm again but not very breezy. Anna still confined to the house, but improving nicely. She expects to resume duties tomorrow. 2/3 of kitchen floor planed and laid down. During the work I managed to jam my right thumb and I will not diarise extensively tonight. Mosquitoes plenty all day and more so tonight. No mullet running today. For breakfast and dinner we had some splendid potatoes from Fred’s diggings. We enjoyed them immensely. The mullet were also—grand!

P.G.C. Saturday November 4, 1876 Tonight the [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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My thumb is all right, except a sore which succeeds the jam. But it isn’t “borthersome.” Anna is still under the weather and looking pale and weak. “Mary” came down tonight and is ready for another jaunt. No “Bonne” and no “Laura” yet. Weather warm and breezy. Mullet run some, but Pepi scatters the schools and they turn about and go down stream. We still have one or two on hand.

P.G.C. Sunday November 5, 1876 Sunny and warm. With delicious breezes. De Coster drops over with Carrie just as the dinner is on the table. He had to be invited and accepted. At the table he treated us to political matters. It seems that owing to Bartholf’s resignation as county Clerk the election on Tuesday will be informed in Manatee County and thrown out in the general counting up. No registration has been in order as the new clerk had not been sworn in. De Coster was to proceed this afternoon to Pine Level to try and arrange matters, but I can easily see that the whole affair is a put up job of the republicans. De C. is an inspecter of Elections and even if he holds, as he expects to, an election booth at Keys old shanty, our votes will not be allowed—because we have not been registered. As there was no registry this was an impossibility. I would like to know how much Bartholf made by resigning his office. The county is extremely democratic and such a matter must be of immense benefit to the rep. party. As De C. went to Pine Level after dinner I sent my diary for a couple of weeks by him. The previous batch went same way.

P.G.C. Monday November 6, 1876 Today we have had much wet and rain fell nearly all the afternoon. Anna improves gradually, but looks rather “slinky.” I managed to get in the two sashes in the kitchen, having taken them from the upper story of the house and placed in one rough edge and the other ¾ of a sash that Fred loaned me. I also got out some door material and my carpenter under damp [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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patch. Last year my potatoes were about the size of walnuts at this season and few in a hill. Now I get double the quantity on some 4,5, and 6 inches long. Fred’s vines have done better than mine and I think his yield will be much better. In the spot where his white potatoes were planted he finds large and fine ones. The potato crop will increase as the ground is worked over more. The more the better. Next year I expect to double my crop of this year! The West Indias do the best so far, and ripen earlier than the other. These and “hitias” are the best also for stand-over.

P.G.C.Tuesday November 7, 1876 Who’s elected? The sun has gone down and the wind come up and somebody is elected president of these United States. Who? We shall know in a few days I suppose. I hope, however, our side will win. There was no use in our trying to vote here. The vote will prove to have been illegally taken in Manatee Co. and will of course be thrown out. The small political tricks of larger localities seem to work well in the wilderness. Last night two deer played tag in Fred’s potatoes. Neuse chased one over my way and Fred almost saw them in time for a shot. They left tracks all over the hills, but did not disturb the ‘taters. More rain and wet boards to plane. Even those I had indoor to dry were too damp to work smoothe. [sic] I made the steps and got out material for tomorrows work, and kept the ball moving. Anna is coming round nicely. But “where’s them schooners?” Cattle have been feeding all yesterday and today out back. Yesterday morning I thought I spied a deer and loaded up and went after the object. I got up on it nicely and was sold. It was a white tailed calf kicking up its youthful heels, while the cow mother looked on from the shade of a bunch of cabbages.

P.G.C. Wednesday. November 8, 1876 Last night’s [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Thermometer registered 58° [could be 38°—partly cut off] before breakfast but touched 65° in afternoon. The north wind blew briskly and finally worked around to N.W. filling the bay with white caps, but easing off after sunset. It was cold and piercing weather and extremely disagreeable. All P.G.C. ran at the nose and the individual members shivered and shook and hunted the “southern exposure.” Planing on the front piazza was like working in the draught of an ice house. I planed down boards, frames, sills, and put on battening for next “norther” accomplishing however but little. Everything worked contrary. Before breakfast I dug my quota of West Indias. Some were large and fine ones. The cool weather has not helped Anna’s cold, but the new goods and warmer weather will have the proper effect. Ben and I are on the anxious seat, looking for the coming freight. We are ready to begin work the moment it comes and hope the schooner will drop in tomorrow. The “infant Mick” appeared in a new plaid gown this morning and looked happy and comfortable. I wish Mother could have seen him trot along the path after Freddie and Phip. Freddie has been chopping roots preparatory to a broil in the new kitchen and we hope for action there soon.

P.G.C. Thursday. November 9, 1876 Phip drops into a “four year old” today and feels unusually proud. At tea time he had to come out heavy in brass buttons and Freddie dressed up too to keep him company. The weather has been cold and dreary all day. Temperature at breakfast time 55°. There was much dampness in the air and not quite so much wind. Fred dug more potatoes this afternoon. Bully ones too! ½ a dozen were almost devoured by rabbits. Tomorrow my turn comes again. Corn and potatoes are all that remain for daily fodder and we go them three times a day. No mullet, although De Coster and Williams dropped over near sunset for a school they saw “in their mind’s eye, Horatio.” D.C. had made his Pine Level trip and as the note was being counted there before he left the “rips” were ahead. As he said: [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Friday November 10, 1876 Another cool day with wind only in afternoon strong from N.W. and three meals of potatoes and corn. But no schooners! Anna, as the invalid, takes broiled chicken, decapitated yesterday and Master Hunkin comes in as usual for the neck. After each meal Fred and I take the skiff and pole out to view the lower bay, but the only schooner visable [sic] so far has been the “Sainted Maria” reclining in a mud bed. Just before dinner Fred’s rifle cracked and the result was a four foot rattlesnake with 10 rattles and a button. His snakeship had just slowly moved beneath the house and there Fred cooked his goose for him. While the deacon prepared his cabbage garden I stuck to planing shelves and doors and door frames. I hope to nearly finish up tomorrow. If that schooner would only drop in “suddint like” how happy we would all be. The kitchen doors I have made extra fine so that when the “new and enlarged establishment” is made I can transfer them to that. In the meantime they will adorn our small box. My seeds planted several days ago are coming up slowly. Cabbages and tomatoes: drop up: but egg plants in Fred’s and my bed dont appear. Why is this? I dug another quarter bushel of potatoes— still fine and promising. The West Indias are the only ripe ones. —or fit to dig. Fred gets a bushel in 50 feet, I in about 45. At this rate we ought to have in the entire field somewhere about 150 bushels. We hope all will turn out as well as West Indias. Yesterday Fred presented me with a ripe fig and one also to Brenda, grown on his tree near the kitchen. His tree is not quite—2 feet high and now has 10 leaves and 6 green figs upon it. How is that for “figs?”

P.G.C. Saturday November 11, 1876 During the night the weather grew warmer but towards day break the wind got up and thermometer went down, first to 55° then the 53° and as the sun rose to 51°. It was deucedly cold. At breakfast I concluded to take the morning for a chance shot at a deer and wait [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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gun and was just off—the moon being south—when Fred from the shore shouted “Mullet!” I replaced the gun and rushed for the skiff where Fred had carried the net and we were soon after the school. It was quite a large one, but the fish were remarkably shy. In half a dozen throws I got 21 and we come in. Several tangled throws brought nothing. Both set to work cleaning up the catch and I postponed my hunt. But glory! how cold the water was. My hands were almost numb. We had mullet and sweet potatoes for dinner and our hearts were glad and stomach’s full. More for breakfast tomorrow. Some are fat and full of oil and taste delicious. In the afternoon the air was warmer and the wind almost dropped. Tonight it is cool again. I played Curry all the afternoon and accomplished considerable. Fred mulched orange trees. Anna sat in the sun for warmth Fred got meals. Brenda cleaned up after Mick gathered broiling roots for Fred and Phip and the baby with cold noses promenaded about the premises, or rocked extensively. Our desert trips to look at Punta Gorda brought no schooners.

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Wednesday November 15, 1876 Charlotte Harbor Fla.

My dear Pa,

Mr. Whidden goes to his house in ½ an hour. He waits for me to write this note merely. On Sunday I could not write at all, nor Monday. On Tuesday the schooner “Laura” brought the 27 packages from home and I was too busy. The diary suffered therefore, but I send you what there is and will continue the remainder by “Laura” as she goes out perhaps by Saturday. Yes; yesterday the good things which it took two weeks to bring from K.W. (one week of time and one Capt Weeks) all were dropped on our shores with a glorious welcome. Today all are unpacked my new “cap” is on roof, the stove up and blacked, the tins arranged in order, crockery all ditto and stores stored away, for a “glorious winter after our summer of discontent” made so by “Granpop, the Duke of New York.” How in the name of goodness you made a couple of hundred dollars go so far I cannot imagine. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 259 fighting cocks and as we get one the excitement will make it up in root pulling and grubbing during the winter. I feel stronger all ready. We all send thanks to you Mother and Em for the good things sent and more than that for all the time, labor and trouble that you have each had. There was only one thing wanting and which you overlooked in sending. And that was “Grandpop” himself. If you had been with the things we should have had nothing “to cry for.” we dined today on onions, whitepotatoes and mullet fresh from the bay and some of the hominy to give Whidden a good meal. This evening we shall take our first meal in the new kitchen. That is if we dont instead prefer to begin the day tomorrow fair and square at breakfast. The $20 you sent I received. When the books are sold take that am’t from the proceeds. Our freight was $18. They wanted $20. With Love to all and more by “Laura” [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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Punta Gorda Chica Wednesday November 15, 1876

My dear Pa,

Mr. Whidden came down for lumber and went up to day. I send by him the batch of diary to Saturday night, not having been able to post up the remainder before he started. He went so sudden-like. There has been a vast amount of excitement—yesterday and today and now being safely established on my own dung hill I feel more like myself and shall, with the good things you sent, be able to make things spin hereafter to better advantage. But this is not a letter but a “diaree” so I will cause it to flow as before. I will go back a day or two and make my connections in the usual way. To begin:

P.G.C.Sunday November 12, 1876 Yesterday while mullet catching in the cold I caught cold in my thumb—having previously jammed it rather badly. I had a hard looking fist and it pained me “powerful.” During the night I could hardly sleep from the pain. After breakfast I noticed a “south moon” and hurriedly donned hunting rig to take a walk and try to replenish our larder. I am not much in favor of Sunday hunting, but the occasion seemed to warrant a little looking after “meat.” I walked as far as the “pens,” but saw no deer sign. I crept up within shot of two “sand-hills” and took deliberate aim, but the cap snapped and the cranes flew away. My luck—as usual. Then—I went home, rather disgusted. On my way back I saw a white flag—but it was at De Coster’s. After dinner Fred and I went across to see what was up. We took the skiff and sailed over and back. There we got letters from home, Via “Bonne” and Punta Rossa [sic]. We learned from De Coster that the mail route between Pine Level and Punta Rossa [sic] is in operation and runs weekly —through Ogden. But as we have no PM. yet we must wait. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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the mail will pass through Charlotte Harbor. When that time comes we shall all cry “Halleluyah!”

P.G.C. Monday November 13, 1876 Fred discovers this morning deer tracks in his potato bed again and finds one hill pretty well stripped of leaves. Fine prospect for hunting in these woods. Tramp all day in the woods and see “nary sign,” go to bed and deer walk in and ring your door bell. Fine weather for work and both Fred and I dig in lively. Gillis drops in about 3 o’c P.M. The “Laura” comes about same time, with new jib and for’sail and topmast gone. She anchors at Pepi’s. Then up goes the white flag again. Expcting only letters we take Gillis over and on reaching the other side learn from De Coster that our long looked for freight has indeed come. We get our letters and then make for the schooner. One worry is settled as I open your letter. $20 drops out. We were awfully puzzled as to the manner of paying for freight and had worried much. That was settled. Then we reached the “Laura.” Capt Weeks was on board and we arranged for the delivery of the things. He was anxious to break open the crockery cask and have us take the things in the skiff, but we finally setttled the matter. He proposed to drop over in the righ and unload. We took the barrel of dried apples and another with a variety of things in and carred them and the news to Ben and Anna. The few apples were in splendid condition. So was every thing in that barrel. But who built those brogans? We all retire in excellent humor and with a great feeling of relief.

P.G.C. Tuesday November 14, 1876 The “Laura” was underway just after daylight, but we all had time to get breakfast and to examine the fresh havoc by deer in the potato beds before she reached our side. For the schooner ran aground and the first boat [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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a busy time we all had. Weeks had picked up somewhere a large yawl and the first load brought every thing but 5 barrels. The tide was low and we had to use skiff, shank’s mare and the cart in getting the things on the bank but all was duly accomplished. The cask we opened and the crockery, without a break was safely transferred to the skiff and thence to our little kitchen box. Brenda was as busy as a B. could be in overhauling the things, washing up and placing for use. Some were stowed away for the future and only what we wanted for present use shelved. Fred and I carted and tugged until our muscles cracked and such a busy colony you never saw. The entire 27 packages were got ashore and then we three Fred, Weeks and I had a triangular talk about freight. He wanted $20. as there were 20 barrels in quantity. After much quiet talk we paid $18. and Weeks was satisfied. Just before noon off he went with his schooner and yawl and we stowed things away. It was a good days work. The stove we got up easily. It was in splendid condition and—ls [?] fair to do all we wish. Brenda likes it exceedingly and we shall try it tomorrow. The tins are grand and all things unpacked so far are in excellent condition. During the afternoon Whidden arrived with horse gun and dog. He came to see about lumber. Fred took him out to his potato beds and he gave a critical view of deer and deer tracks. The result was a fire hunt at midnight. Two pair of eyes scooted toward the “head” with Whidden after them, leaving Fred and me in the rear. They played like kittens, these two deer, and Whidden took a snap shot with my gun and missed. He and Fred afterward tramped through the woods but got no more “eyes.” The cocks crowed for 3 A.M. as we retired. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Wednesday November 15, 1876 Deer tracks are thicker than potato vines in Fred’s patch this morning. Nearly 200 feet of hill swept clear of leaves. No pawing after potatoes yet. One deer had taken a snooze on an orange mound. Would’t Baggs like to be here now? After breakfast a school of mullet pass and Whidden poles while I cast. I only get four. Then Whidden crosses in the skiff to De Costers and I go to work unpacking and Freddie digs some of his potatoes for our first=meal in the new kitchen. I get out the “Cossack Cap” and fixings and get them in place and put up stove pipe and then feel ready for “biz.” At dinner we eat our final meal at Fred’s. Fred and Anna come over to see our first start. I fire up at 4 o’c and ½ an hour from sunset we sit down to our first meal. The stove and cap worked exceedingly well. Brenda is as delighted with her stove, tins and crockery as Nick with a new schooner. So far I believe the stove will “use” fully as well as the Barstow. It don’t eat up as much wood and gives a good hot oven. It rather warms up our small kitchen but that we would expect with any stove. It will not, however, prevent us taking our meals there. Every thing looks so new and clean. I blackened the stove to commence with. The “silver plated” knobs show out grand. It was a great pleasure to us this first meal. Tell Mother that I forgot to wear the nightshirt in celebration, but I’ll have it on for the first breakfast! You should have seen Master Nick pass one of his potatoes to his mother. He was as proud as old Lucifer.

P.G.C. Thursday November 16, 1876 At daylight Ben and I were up and doing. Breakfast was ready soon after sunrise and I sat down to our first breakfast gorgeously attired in one of my new nightshirts to celebrate the occasion. The stove worked admirably. At first Brenda

Page 264 thought it rather complicated and was afraid she might not be able to work it to her satisfaction, but today’s cooking has shown all its good points and she is now ready to put her whole cooking faith in “Ridgewood” to the disadvantage of the Harp. She is willing “to hang her Harp on the willow tree” and use Ridgewood hereafter, strong. You have no idea how cosy [sic] and jolly it seemed, to be able to have all our mites about us at meal times. The “mite of a kitchen” was rather at close quarters with us all, but we shall take great pleasure in it nevertheless. The “Cossack Cap” is a grand success. Besides it looks so nobby. After our breakfast with some more of Nick’s potatoes, we did more unpacking. Every thing was in excellent condition—but—the preserves. Both boxes were leaking as we brought them ashore, but we had no idea how badly until we opened them. Out of the 24 jellies, not one was in good condition. The patent tumbles were almost empty and the two old fashioned ones were three quarters full. You have no idea how badly we all felt at the sight, knowing what trouble and pain Mother had taken to put them up. It seems too bad altogether. At Key West, Phillips writes, the freight was in excellent condition. The loss must have occurred on the schooner and the entire colony felt awfully. One jar of pickled pears and a jar of strawberries were also broken, but these were saved by being “done over.” The potatoes and vegetables were in first rate order, as was everything but these jellies. By going through the lot Anna and Fred scraped up just 4 tumblers’ full and these are all that is left of the 24. When I think of the work Mother has given to them I feel almost like writing that they came safely with [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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and dried cherries and pears and apples were as good as when packed up. These will be a grand treat. How did you all manage to collect so many. We appreciate all the labor— for it must have been almost unending—and shall enjoy the “fruits” of it more when we think of it. The P.G.C. Colony may now consider itself in tip-top condition as regards stores and material. It is hardly necessary for me here to go into detail. But so far as our branch of the colony goes we thank you most sincerely for all your trouble and worry, and for such good judgement in selecting our “things” and to Mother and Em for the result of their summer labor of love we hardly know to express enough thanks. How we wish you were all here to take a share in the disposal. We add to our mullet list today 7 more from a passing school. As the deer still come to P.G.C. Fred and I propose a fire hunt at midnight. Last night Fred tried it alone, first sitting in a quiet spot and afterwards with the pan. He shined two pair of eyes, fired between them, hit one deer, but did not find it. This morning he found “staggering footprints” and Neuse went wild on the trail. So I must turn in for a start at 2 o’c midnight.

P.G.C. Friday November 17, 1876 Fred called me at 2 o’c this AM I dressed quietly and we struck a bee line for the chicken coop where we waited half an hour and then “panned out.” We hunted for an hour, going some distance back in the woods, but saw nothing. At daylight we noticed fresh tracks in the beds and more havoc. For a change we have today erected a “spring gun” with my shot gun and we will try them thataway to night. As we can’t kill deer ourselves, we let them try to commit suicide. 6 mullet added to the list. Ben tries Mother’s yeast [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Saturday November 18, 1876 Very warm and very little wind. Fred and Nick cross to De Costers’ with a “dash” of vegetables. Fred finds the D.C. family relishing Kinderhook apples sent by Mr. Phillips. They were in splendid order. Old man Curry visits the ranche (mine) about same time. His object was to get the planes Fred sold for lumber. As I write a “rush” occurs just back of the kitchen. By the noise I should calculate that ½ a dozen deer had smelled out the spring gun and were making tracks away from it. These deer must have been within 50 feet of the house moving eastward. To day we only put 3 mullet on our list. 70 caught so far. Ben’s first bread, in our own “pan,” bully.

P.G.C. Sunday November 19, 1876 Pleasant cool and breezy. There are signs tonight of a “norther.” We are getting cold weather in quantity. Our “litter box” was very comfortable today and our Sunday dinner tasted “good.” Deer sign plenty in Freds ‘taters. The spring gun goes off accidentally this afternoon as Fred was setting it. All shot stopped in a Pine tree. Freddie digs more sweet potatoes. He has already dug about ½ a bushed. The two largest he took over to Fred and Anna for their Sunday dinner. One was 7 inches long and 10 inches in circumference. Of course he was a proud boy. This evening he enquired—when he took over chicken feed— “how Aunty enjoyed her potato.”

P.G.C. Monday November 20, 1876 The north wind blew briskly all last night. After breakfast I went over for water. Deer tracks were scattered in every direction and the “critters” had made a night of it in my potato beds. Thus far they only eat the leaves but the vines will go next and then potatoes. Among the visitors last night was a doe [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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8 different footprints, some within 25 feet of the house. Deer tracks were on every orange mound in “the grove.” Tonight I shall sit the thing out as the wind in N.W. and I have made me a spot to watch from under one of the pines. Mullet ran well today but were “skeery.” I only took 4. It was rather cold fishing. The “Laura” left for Key West today. She came upon us unawares and departed with our mail. But we expect Whidden tonight or tomorrow and our letters will go as quick, if not quicker, as he is on the mail route now. —Now for the deer.

P.G.C. Tuesday November 21, 1876 About 8 o’c last evening I dropped my army overcoat and with Fred’s gun—none being “set” —I took up position under the first pine to the right leading to Fred’s to watch for deer. It would have been pleasant business if it had not been so “darn cold.” I sat and sat and sat but nary deer came. But Whidden and Ely did in the skiff and I met them just before “moondown” on the wharf after 2 hours “sottin.” They came loaded. First there was a junk of beef for each. A small bag of 7 or 8 quarts of “clean rice” 7 or 8 pumpkins and a couple of sticks of sugar cane for the children. All were accepted with thanks. Whidden was again after his lumber and had selected 2000 feet at the mill, working hard all day to do it. He came over particularly to go for the deer. At “moondown” he and Ely sallied forth, with Fred’s gun. He shined two just outside the fence and popped one, which he is sure he hit—but perhaps only wounded. He stuck to business until midnight but saw no more. I went home and to bed and at ½ past 1. (south moon) we all went out again with the fire pan, but no more eyes “shined.” This morning no fresh tracks are visable [sic]. After Whidden went over to the mill the mullet began to run lively. Fred and I took [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 268 morning, with a small catch after dinner and tonight they are in “salt soak” to be ready for drying tomorrow. Whidden gets back in time for supper, but so tired that he wont try the deer. Tomorrow he will catch some mullet, and start home on the raft. Most of the day the weather was calm and cool—tonight it blows strong again from N.W. This afternoon I made Ben a bully old kitchen table. It is on the settee order and can be turned up to make room. She has also in the “box” a side table that lets down, on hinges. Other conveniences will be added from time to time. The roast beef, with Em’s “tommy catsup” went down easily and tomorrow morning we will luxuriate in “hash.” The “yawl” which came in with Weeks, and the “Laura” we learn now (as before) belongs to two runaway sailors. The boat is really worth a hundred dollars and would make an excellent sloop or schooner like Joselyn’s. These men have offered it to Weeks for $30. and he is trying hard to raise the money. It is strongly built, about 22 or 23 feet long and with centreboard and mast and sail. There’s a bargain. Is the receiver as bad as the thief always?

P.G.C. Wednesday November 22, 1876 Last evening or in early morning one of the biggest bucks yet made “signs” in Fred’s potato beds. This thing is getting to be an old story. Neuse was loose and he ran the fellow off. But only for an hour or so. Back he came and made a good meal of vines. At “moon-down” tonight Ely and Whidden, who still remains, will fire hunt and Ely is confident of getting one. My gun is to do the butchering—if any. At the same time Fred’s gun will act as “spring gun” and a lantern hung in the potato beds will get them accustomed to the sight so as to furnish sport for Fred and me hereafter. At Fred’s tonight

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Whidden and Ely did some tall deer stalking in story. One of Whidden’s was good enough to jot down. Two men, not particularly good sportsmen, were fire hunting. One carried the pan, the other the shot gun and pine knots. After much “shining” a pair of eyes appeared within easy range. The “shiner” reached back for the gun, armed and fired. Two more eyes appeared. Again he fired. His companion in the rear helped load and handed the gun. Two more shots. Again the rear man loaded and as he handed the gun forward remarked “ Ain’t we just giving ‘em h—l.” “We?” says the other, “We? I reckon its me that’s doing it.” After firing seven shots the eyes gave out. Up they marched to view the game and seven fine head of cattle lay on the ground. “There,” says the shooter, “now we’ll get h—l.” “We?” says the other, “I reckon you did all the shootin’.” It was a horse of another color that time. Whidden told also of dogs being tied in the patch to frighten deer and finding “sign” within 10 feet of the dogs and “them a ‘chargin.’” He posted us up in the different modes of looking after deer when they get into a patch and we will try some if the deer dont let up. By the way Whidden calculates but he has killed over a thousand deer in “these parts.” During 1862 he furnished the blockade with venison for 8 months and received 10 cents a pound for it. He made a good living and saved money by the operation. Both W. and E. were going home today but they will try to leave us a deer tonight. During the day they caught 63 mullet and it was a very poor day for them. It was cool and a strong N.E. wind blew most of the time. Hash for breakfast and roast beef for dinner with Kinderhook potatos [sic] and turnips and beets made life in Florida rose tinted.

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Charlotte Harbor Fla. November 23, 1876

My dear Pa,

I have been so very busy since the beginning of last week that I have really had no time to write a letter to you and Mother and Em. I must bunch you all today while Ben is getting dinner (including Baggs) and wait until the hurry passes to take you in detail. What with mullet fishing deer hunting, and arranging conveniences for Brenda’s kitchen work, with the varied chores and necessary attention to a basis for future gardening operations my time has been “used” pretty well night and day. All the diary to last evening I enclose. More of course will follow. I hope you wont get sick of it. It seems awfully monotonous sometimes when I get sufficient courage to glance over it. Still I shall continue to send it. I will merely add a P.S. to it and state that no deer were caught last night but Whidden, Fred and Ely tried hard to get a shot at a shadow like object that would’n’t stand still in the moonlight in Fred’s potato beds, while the three sat under the house “a watchin’.” We are now able to know just what a fine supply of material you sent down by steamer on Oct 28. Every thing is entirely satisfactory. I must confess that your judgement hits the bulls eye every time. The tinware shines. It is solid and will outlast twice the number of L.W. tins. The stove improves. Ben has it under control. It bakes splendidly. I really think it superior to the Harp. So does Ben. The crockery is just the cherse! Those lamps (the tall one particularly) bully. Kinderhook produce we enjoy fully and will try to make it last as long as possible. Other stores ditto—We shall endeavor

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to catch fish and hunt birds and game for a living between work time and when short of these dig into stores. Fred will do likewise. Of course Ben and I will share with them of everything and do it quietly. Neither Ben nor I would be mean enough to take advantage of the fact of the goods being sent to us only to give, loan or force them upon Fred in any improper manner. We have studied their feelings in the matter more than our own and have acted towards them as we would wish them to act toward us. They are sensitive and we have had due consideration for that quality. I would have enjoyed my summer better had they both cared equally for our sensitiveness and feelings. Still, everything is working nicely now. We are on our own bottom and we can each manage better as it is. Things are working very smoothly and we will both try to make a good show of improvement during the winter. Again I wish to thank you on Brenda’s and my part for all you have done for us and for what Mother and Em have done. We appreciate it to the fullest and only hope that we shall be able before long to first support ourselves, and then to repay you all for sacrifices and trouble. Ben had a letter partly commenced to Mother. But there is not time to finish. She will send by next mail. Give my best love to Mother and Em. Say that we are as comfortable as “bugs in a rug” and will now get on gloriously. Brenda sends love also. We are all well, children particularly and hope now to remain so. Hastily ever yours Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Fla. Thursday November 23, 1876

My dear Pa,

About 3 o’c this afternoon Whidden and Ely started for their raft of 2000 feet of lumber and by this time are no doubt hunting the mouth of Shell Creek, trusting to camp on the “halfmoon bluff” tomorrow evening. They pulled in mullet by the half dozen until “beyond our ken” across the channel. These they will “split” and dry in the sun on the raft as it slowly moves up with the tide. They expect to get up to the “landing” on Sunday. I sent a week’s diary by them and as the mail rider stops always at Whidden’s place over night they will go on the Fort Meyers on Monday. As a result of Whidden’s visit, we had some very fresh butter of his wife’s make for supper tonight. But it did not need this to make us relish the Kinderhook “goodies” and stores from Gotham. A new mode of cooking mullet roe we learned from W. Clean the heads of 15 or 20 mullet, put them in a pot and boil till they fall apart (15 minutes will do it) then collect the oil that is on the surface and throw away or feed to the chickens the residue. Cook, or rather fry the roe in this oil and “there richness for you.” It adds a delicious “sardiney” flavor to the roe and even improves mullet themselves when not over fat. Today I put in 80 orange seeds for a flyer. Tomorrow I will prepare a spot for very young “tommies.”

P.G.C. Friday November 24, 1876 A white flag is visable [sic] at De Costers wharf at breakfast time. Fred and I prepare to go over in the skiff. A fine school of mullet come along we drop into them. We get 36 in half a dozen throws, come ashore, and I scale them while Fred cleans out the skiff. Then we cross over sailing nicely. We get beef and liver [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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dinner. The liver is splendid as usual and the beef not over tender. Then we clean up the fish getting 29 “yaller roes” from the 36 mullet. The fish Fred salts and I put in a few “licks” at my “tommy” patch and finish up some odd chores. Only a few deer tracks in the potato patch this morning. Fred burned his hurricane lamp all night on a stick “jobbed” into the ground, as per Whidden’s advice. De Coster has gone and done it again. He has written to the “Guardian.” I’ll try to get a copy and send you.

P.G.C. Saturday November 25, 1876 During the night we had a heavy fall of rain and during the morning we had more. I finished up the “tommy” patch 20 x 25 and Fred planted out some also some “rooter- bagers.” A big buck came in to reconnoiter Fred’s lamp just before daylight and half a dozen friends of the main army of ravagers waited outside. Therefore we propose to sit up and welcome them tonight. The wind blows strong from N. and it is growing cold. But we will make a night of it. I have rolled the big hogshead that brought my crockery up to the path between our house and Fred’s and placed it conveniently for a shooting box. During south moon I shall occupy it and afterwards at “moon-down” and before daylight watch at Fred’s west window. At noon today De Coster and John Lomond came over. Dinner was ready aat both houses. As D.C. came along the path I invited him in. He accepted and made a good meal and enjoyed the vegetables—and especially some bread and molasses. He was our first guest in the little kitchen and he seemed to think we were quite cosy. He wanted to borrow some comfort in the shape of tobacco. As I owed him some aI paid up and he and John sailed off contentedly, with [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C., Sunday, November 26, 1876 What a cold “setting up” we had last night. At daylight the mercury was down to 53°. About 8 o’c in the evening I put on my big blue overcoat “histed” my blanket under my arm and with shouldered gun I marched to the field of carnage. Into my shooting den I crawled and wrapped my blanket about me. The wind blew in strong “Norther” gusts past me on either side and although my opening faced the “blast” it conveniently parted and troubled me not. I sot and sot and sot. The moon shone brightly and I had a good look out. My “wind,” if any, worked diagonally back to the back gate and the general entrance for visitors was just between Fred’s and my place at the back. I waited and was not rewarded by the sight of even a “shadder.” I sat there until ½ past 10 and then stretched my legs over to the deacon’s. There we took a smoke, set the alarm for 1 o’c (“moondown”) and wrapped in our blankets—lay down for a nap on your old bed. The wind howled and we had no sooner fallen asleep, so it seemed, when the rat-tat-tat sounded. We popped out quietly, looked out above and then went down to Bags old room and sat an hour and half until the moon had been gone some time. We saw nothing and shot—nothing. Then we “sot her again” for ½ an hour before daylight. Fred undressed and went to his own nest and I slept warmer with two blankets. Up we got at the proper time and watched until daybreak. When it was quite light we took a quiet turn about and found—the tracks of six deer that had circumvented us by visiting my patch at moondown while we watched Freds. One was an immense buck and fat and logy. Tonight the little gun is set in a new [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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at moondown and watch until daylight through a square bung hole I have made. The wind is quieter and yet it comes from the same quarter. Perseverance, they say, conquers all things. I hope it will give us a deer tonight. It has been quite cool all day long, but our little box of a kitchen has been as cosy and comfortable as possible. Freddie, and Phip are getting rosy cheeks again and we all feel so much more active and vigorous. How we do enjoy the vegetables! I believe I could eat myself drunk on onions and ‘tater.s Ben made some splendid beef soup with carrots and rice in today. It was bully, but will be bullier tomorrow. And now I’ll go to bed until 1 AM. How will that answer for “early rising?”

P.G.C. Monday November 27, 1876 My anticipations of a deer were in a measure gratified. As I started ½ an hour before “moondown” for my shooting cask I heard the “blow” of a deer on the edge of my potato beds and then the rat-tat rat-tat of hoof as the critter made for the back fence. I was just 10 minutes too late. By his tracks this mg. I judge that he (for it must have been a fat buck the hacks were so large) had only just got in as I went forth. He made 12 foot jumps and as much noise as a running “cattle.” There was no wind, everything was quiet. Spreading my blanket in the den I crawled in after and sat Turkish fashion. But the moon slowly dropped in the distant harbor and I heard no fence rail scraped. Nothing appeared. I watched for 2 hours and then wrapping myself up in the blanket leaned up against the side and “catnapped” until ½ an hour of dawn. I opened my eyes and being on a level with terra firma looked for “fleeting forms,” but could not scare one up. Fog banks appeared

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and covered Fred’s house from sight, an occasional mullet would flop in the harbor and no other sound broke the stillness. It was chilly and cool and my cramped position made me shake occasionally but I stuck it out until it was light enough to distinguish Fred’s fence and then I crawled out and struck a bee line for the kitchen where I soon had a fire ready for Brenda and we sat down to breakfast before the sun had gilded the tree=tops half an hour. On close examination of our “deer preserves” by the way, we want a game keeper to prevent poaching—I found my buck’s tracks, but in Fred’s patch there was one mass of tracks. So many “sign” I never saw before. The deer perhaps 8 or 10 of them had trotted all over his field, across the front path, through his cassava and in fact every where but just where the gun was set! “These yer deers is moighty cunnin’.” If we watch at Fred’s they visit me. If we try here they go there and they are smart enough to steer clear of damage. But, we will try both places tonight, and see what results. If that don’t do we’ll resort to the fire pan again. After breakfast a close running school of mullet passed. Fred and I were soon among them and we hauled in about 75. These we cleaned and salted during the morning and part of afternoon and packed in a barrel a la Whidden. We took about 60 “yaller roes” from the bunch. We have now our quota of mullet and will only catch as we want them for table. Our stock in store is now about 150 mullet and 100 roes. They will help out provisions. The “Mary” sailed for Manatee today.

P.G.C. Tuesday November 28, 1876 I occupied my private box for 2 hours before and after moondown and just before day light [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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for some unaccountable reason did not take place. The principal actors in our proposed tragedy failed to respond and our early rising did no good. Fred had set his gun, hung up a sheet and made a “scaredeer” of his overcoat in order to drive the visitors nearer the gun but this morning we could not discover any new tracks. I intended to try the fire pan tonight but I felt rather too tired to prepare it. For the same reason I may or may not occupy my “sugar house” tonight. After sitting cramped up in that place a fellow is apt to forget whether he has any legs or not. It was warmer, however, last night than the night before but cool enough to bring on an occasional shiver. I have come to the conclusion that deer, after dark, have more instinct and avoid danger more readily than in broad daylight. They certainly scent danger from afar and keep on the outer circle. To day we have had warmish weather with slight winds only. Fred has tended to the mullet, boiling down brine and preparing dried ones and the roes. They all look promising and we hope to enjoy them hereafter, at intervals. Anna pickled some fat ones as an experiment and they look well. Ben “tried out” a bowl of mullet oil for future frying purposes—that is for fish. My labors were given to digging up mounds and mulching, erecting a fence around my seeds, and some few carpenter jobs. Our kitchen has now all the “modern improvements.” A table on a new and improved plan turns up for room. A side table for dish washing etc. lets down and rests against the side of the house. A bread board and meat board slide in behind out of the way and the shelves hold all the things. At the back I keep a tub always filled with water and in front a sort of vegetable bureau, with soap boxes for [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 278 around the kitchen it looks clean and cleared up, no boxes or barrels are stored beneath and the whole house inside and out is the picture of neatness. Tomorrow I shall start a store house wing about 7 x 7 on the east side of the kitchen and work at it at intervals of grubbing and necessary gardening. We feel the need of such a “stowaway” and I can soon put one up of rough edge material.

P.G.C. Wednesday November 29, 1876 Very warm all day, with a fair showing of breeze. Plenty of “deer sign” visable [sic] in my potato beds and only one deer track—leading directly beneath the white sheet—at Freds. I was too tired last evening and needed sleep too much to sit up to receive them. Of course they brought all their friends. During the mg. Fred and I made an attack on a mullet school. We took but 19. The skiff was so fragrant from our former big catch that we could’n’t stand it and let the rest go. There was a fine run of these oily wigglers all day. We dress and salt for drying about half and keep the rest and some big roes for table use. Commence a 7 x 7 store house wing to my kitchen and get the foundation level. Make and set 4 traps for quail or doves. Whidden says they get such good feed from the “pine mast” that few will be on hand for some time yet. Fred has a trap out and we will be ready for them. At south moon I shall go to my sugar hogshead and “receive.” This occurs about 10 o’c. the wind is south and I may have a show. But you can’t most always some times tell.

P.G.C. Thursday November 30, 1876 I have just carried from Fred’s my tub of water in pails and have made my nightly visit to peek into the kitchen stove. All is lovely. But it grows colder and there are signs of a norther. It has been cold and windy all day and we shall [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 279 the sugar barrel, but the only visitors were one night hawk or bat and a small army of mosquitoes. These latter pests “hummed and hawed” at first; but afterward they put in their little bills. I stick it out my alotted [sic] time and then go to bed. Just before daybreak a rumble of thunder, a lightning flash or two, one heavy crash and the wind comes like a small gale and rain falls in a solid sheet. Just before the rain Neuse starts up something and the lowing of cattle sounds just over the fence. A big bunch has been visable [sic] all day close to us. No deer sign in the taters this AM. Dig ½ a bushel of good potaotes today to alternate with the Irish. How we do enjoy each kind! The apples are the finest I ever ate. We had some for tea tonight. In the various eatables we are we give you all at home many thanks. The children are getting fat and rosy again and Ben and I are beginning to change color. Fred and I drag in some muck for onion culture. He gets four loads and I two. We will try the experiment with muck from the low holes at the back and also the oozy muck from the swamp. I intended to set out 30 tomatoes, but the wind wouldnt let up sufficiently. During a misty rain that fell most of the morning I copied De Costers latest letter, which I send herewith. Read and enjoy. We keep today as Thanksgiving Day!

P.G.C.Friday December 1, 1876 Winter sets in in right good earnest. The Mercury at daylight is 43°. A little after sunrise it drops to 41°. This evening it is 45° and during the day has not been above 47°. It is the coldest day we have had in Florida. Blue lips and red noses are a fine crop today. The wind blows a gale from the North. It is impossible to do any planting or other work. Fred and I chop a load of wood, build fires and try to keep comfortable. I overhaul the cast net again and repair it. 5 hours of today’s time were caught in its meshes. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 280 six deer were in last night. I suppose I was up and looking for them from the windows a dozen times but the moonlight did not show them to me. It was almost too cool to hunt out of doors. Tonight I am afraid I shall feel like stopping in bed and not trouble myself about these shadows. I begin to believe this plantation is infested with “haunts” and nothing tangible in the shape of a deer comes inside the fence. Look out for frost and “freeze” about this time. Mullet and mullet roe eat right smart in this weather. We all play light on the store. And now to warm up a little! No nightcap—but plenty of blankets in a warm bed. Bon soir! By the way I wonder if the cold weather down here is a result of the reef taken in Hell gate up your way?

P.G.C. Saturday December 2, 1876 For the first time in this Italy of America ice has formed on the P.G.C. plantation. It wasn’t enough to skate upon but just enough to swear by. As the deacon looked after the “roosters” this mg. he found a paper coating of the thinnest possible ice in the trough! Just think of it. Most of my tomatoes have disappeared and some of Freds. Those he covered up were saved. At daylight the thermometer marked 35°. Earlier it must have been down to 32° or else ice had not formed. All day long the wind has blown keenly from the North and we have shivered much and hugged the fire. The highest point during the day was I believe 49°. Tonight the mercury drops again and there is less wind. As a result of my not watching for deer last night—how pleasant it would have been in the sugar barrel! —my beds are full of tracks. I shall try a new plan tonight and sit up —on the lounge—with opera glass, gun blanket, pipe and over coat and try a long shot by moonlight when the critters [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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I think the deer will feed in an hour or two; again at south moon; and again at daylight. I may see him or her and two or three hims or hers and get a shot. Getting lightwood, and green pine was about the extent of labor today. There seemed to be no show for anything out of doors but to try and keep warm within.

P.G.C. Sunday December 3, 1876 I went on guard last evening at 9.30. The lights had been put out but half an hour when I saw “little Hunkin” come skirting the potato beds like a dim shadow in the moonlight. Supposing this to be the advance reconnoitreing party I woke up Brenda to give her a chance to “see a deer.” She shivered and looked but could not catch him. Down to the big tree he went as I went for my gun and the front door. Again I caught sight of him but before I could open the little door window he dissolved into thin air. Ben went to bed and I to lounge and waited. The moon grew brighter and cast a light sufficient to show up any moving object within 100 yards. While looking along the path I noticed a small rabbit come jumping along and could see him even when he got in the shadow of the house. Presently I saw another deer come down from the back fence, but he smelt danger and rushed back. Soon after one came up from shore. His tail looked white and he looked ghostly. As he came to the big tree—where we dug up so many oak roots—I quietly opened the little door window; took aim, lost him for a moment and then found him and finally fired. A crash by the tree and departing footsteps went off in two directions and flopped over the fence. My powder was at Freds and I went for it. As I reached the path two more deer trotted off and jumped the fence. Things were getting lively. On my way over I examined the spot I fired at. There was a scramble as I approached the tree and between the beds lay a deer. I [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 282 to Fred’s. Up he got and dressed and back we went. We found our game a young 2 year old buck. Fred finished him and we carted him to the kitchen piazza. Then I reloaded and went back to my perch to try again. In an hour’s time, as I was smoking quietly down come a shadowy figure from the back fence again. It came to the path and stood for 10 minutes directly in range with Fred’s kitchen. It was just where I could’n’t fire at it. This time Ben got a glimpse. After a nice supper of vines it started back on its trail. I tried the back window the time, but before I could draw a bead on it, away it went noiselessly and left. I lay down again, saw nothing for half an hour and gradually fell into a doze. About 4 o’c I awoke and took another look. Within 20 feet of the big tree a big buck was feeding. Carefully I opened the front window, took aim and fired. What a jump he gave. As he passed along the bank eastward he was boldly relieved against the water. I tried again; fired; —and cap snapped. So; for the night, I gave up my luxurious mode of deer hunting and went to bed. If you remember, I stated when I shot the doe last summer, I should try to kill my next deer “nearer house.” I think I accomplished it this time—unless I shoot next time from under the bed clothes I don’t think I could come much nearer. At daylight with the thermometer at 39° I took salt mullet for breakfast and afterward Fred and I skinned cleaned and cut up “little Hokolin.” The hams weighed together 23 ¼ lbs. We had liver, kidney and chops for dinner with a fine sprinkling of vegetables, and did’n’t we enjoy our Sunday dinner? We opened a bottle of wine on this occasion and feasted actually. Tonight the ther. is 50° and dropping. The wind blows and the moon is rising. I may take another [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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P.G.C. Monday December 4, 1876 “I would rather live always in this sunny clime than be Governor of Maine for life and have all the wealth of the Indies”—De Coster. The thermometer stood at 40° at sunrise and the north wind was keen and searching. I passed the night until an hour before daylight looking for deer that never came and shivering “like an aspen,” went to bed only to get warm before preparing for the day’s labor and feed. The sun was up ½ an hour or so when our venison chops were served and we sat down to a meal that fully satisfied the inner cravings. At noon the “Laura” —as we thought came in. Afterwards we found it to be the “Mary.” At three o’c we, Fred and I, shoved the skiff off and sailed down to Bartholf’s. We had a pretty good northerly breeze and reached there about ½ past four. We landed at the palmetto wharf—where July and George were rolling barrels ashore. Up at the house we found Mr. and Mrs and four small fry Bartholfs—the major part (Mrs.) and three children sitting around a big lightwood fire eating oranges. The “Mary” had brought Bartholf, from Manatee, some flour, “grits” (hominy) pickled beef, butter, lard, kerosene and a variety of stores, which will be eaten by his family or bartered for cash, cattle or deer skin, as the demand arises. His “Goshen”butter was 40 cents; lard 16 cents etc etc. Bartholf said he should keep store if there was a demand for goods and this batch was his trial one. Fred and I made a purchase each. We invested $3.80 in two pair of shoes. The big brogans you sent me will be bully when my ancles [sic] get into shape but the high tops grate on my sensitive sores to such an extent that at present I cant wear them. They are just right for grubbing and planting—our last purchase answering but for quiet times. For over 3 mos. I have worn slippers and there is very little left of them. I hesitated to invest in another pair of shoes

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but concluded best to do it. Bartholf told us that we should be able to have a mail, if not a post office, before Christmas and perhaps both. He would know further in a few weeks. At sunset we started for home, stopped at De Costers and left with him a ham of deer and a few vegetables and made a quick passage home afterward. It was a dark night and the norther howled. We almost missed our bearings, as no light was out; but got ashore all right and our suppers afterward comfortably. 23 head of tame wild cattle have been feeding back of us all day. I don’t think I shall set up tonight for any deer. It is almost too cold

P.G.C. Tuesday December 5, 1876 Cold still. 40° again at daybreak. The shore at low tide dotted with dead and benumbed catfish. Potato vines withered in spots but not killed. During the day Whidden and Harrison Youmans stop at the wharf. They had looked for mullet and found none. But they had caught a 300 lb. Jew fish instead. Youmans said that the frost was heavy at his place, even the ground was frozen. Frozen lumps of earth could be kicked about. His potato vines were “plum black.” No deer came in last night. My firing must have frightened them off—I hope for good. Tonight it is cold again and the Norther holds on like grim death.

P.G.C. Wednesday December 6, 1876 It was much milder, although cold, this mg. It grew warmer as the sun heated the air. By noon we could work in our shirt sleeves and put in good licks without getting tired. After dinner Fred and I went a-fishing. We managed to secure, in an hour’s time, over 900 lbs of fish! Ask Bags what he thinks of that for a flyer. We brought [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 285 the largest was like a small elephant and would weigh about 350 lbs. Two others would add together 520 or 30 lbs to the scales and a small one put in 30 or 40 lbs more. Three we managed to get into the boat, with Whidden to help us and the 4th, a 300 pounder, we towed behind. They were all alive but benumbed by cold; the fellow we towed occasionally getting lively and pushing the boat like a screw of a propeller. Tomorrow we shall salt down a good portion of the “critters” and bury the rest for manure. De Coster came over at tea time with Carrie. He borrowed 3 quarts of molasses and 4 lbs of sugar—promising to pay up in a week or two with ditto made by Morgan. D.C. says that a land agent is building a boat on the other side for the purpose of exam[in]ing “sites” in this locality. He was on his way to the “Caloosahatch” but will look around here about first. De Costers potato vines are black and he was afraid his guavas would be killed. All such tree are dead within 10 miles of him. Ice formed over there, 1/8 of an inch thick— but at Youman’s place it was nearly an inch thick last night. We had none. The cold snap is evidently over. Tonight the weather is quite mild and very little wind stirring. I hav’n’t looked at the thermometer but I should judge it to be about 60°.

P.G.C. Thursday December 7, 1876 Ther. up in the 60’s. Quite “summery” at noon. The “Norther” and “freeze” is over! Thanks. This morning after breakfast I looked at our “bunch” of unstrung Jew fish and thought how nicely we could have realized $60 or $70 by putting them on the Key West Market. They bring 10 cents a pound there. Phip and I rowed over to De Costers, borrowed a little salt and Fred skinned and hacked out 50 lbs and salted it down. The remaining 850 lbs or so we will salt down a new. [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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hereafter. Besides this Fred and I collected about 250 cat fish and gave them Christian burials for a similar purpose. It makes better manure than sea weed or beach combings. I am losing faith in this latter stuff. Myriads of grass seeds and seeds of other varieties of weeds etc are mixed with it and unless badly “decayed” will bring forth fruit that we “have no use for.” Fish and swamp much are better and the good qualities are in more compact form. The next thing in the shape of a water vehicle built on the premises should be a lighter half the size of Keys. It could be made with $6 or $8 worth of material. With that we could collect muck, oyster shell, portion of stray shell mounds and all sorts of stuff to make a rich garden and do it without much trouble either. While “resting” after dinner; Freddie and I walked along shore for Willet. “We” shot 4 and got only one. I did the shooting and Freddie played dog—my lame foot preventing me going into the water. The youngster was delighted and carried the game home to his mother. Yesterday Fred set out 24—I believe—cabbages. My stock is reduced to 3, but I shall have more—after a time. A few ducks and quantities of snipe were flying up stream today. Also, one of the largest schools of mullet of the season passed as I rowed across. The oars would actually slide along their back, they were so thick. Whidden—Youmans made a haul up near their camp on Coon Key. I wanted to get a few of these fish for a pickle but the skiff was full of Jew fish and we could’n’t manage it. However, Ben made a nice lot of pickled Jew fish this afternoon and in a day or two she will try some mullet. One way and another we are laying in “produce” that will offset our “stores” considerably.

P.G.C. Friday December 8, 1876 Warm all day until towards night when the atmosphere cooled [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

Page 287 for an hour or two after dinner and soaked the ground sufficiently to enable both Fred and me to plant some onions on the experimental muck plan. For breakfast both families had fish cakes on a basis of Jew fish fried in mullet oil. They were exceedingly tasty in our cooking department. Across the road Anna got slightly upset by the mullet oil richness. We are now ready for a few more fresh mullet for a change. None ran today, but Whidden and Youmans paddled by for deeper water and undoubtedly found some. At supper we had more dried apples. They were delicious, as usual. That big buck came in to look at things in front last night. He may bring the whole family tonight. The moon is waning and if tracks are heavy tomorrow I think I will try the fire=pan and see if we can add another deer to the larder. The saddle, neck and one ham still “hang” of the last one. How often we wish you and Mother were with us to see sights we have had this year in the way of novelty. But we’ll possess our souls in patience if you will only come next year.

P.G.C. Saturday December 9, 1876 Cool but not actually cold. A visit from De Coster during the morning varied the monotony of our quiet life. No mullet today. Almost a norther tonight. By the way De C. brought two packages of “Suns” to Nov. 1. and several letters—one from Bags dated Nov 2. Ben and I have passed a quiet evening in our box of a kitchen reading up back files before a bright fire.

P.G.C. Sunday December 10, 1876 Cool still, wind from south-east and sunshine all day. The venison saddle filled us with delicious fodder at dinner. All well. Children happy and fat, with rosy cheeks. Ben and I ditto. Fred and Anna also in prime condition. As I may have a chance to send to Manatee today or tomorrow, I’ll close up. With much love, ever...Jarvee

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Punta Gorda Chica Fla. Monday December 11, 1876

My dear Pa,

Again we are “ravenous on our muttons” —although in the CH. market it is inclined to be “deer” just now. To resume the elongated thread of our discourse: The schooner “Mary” will not sail for Manatee for a day or two yet and my diary up to yesterday all sealed and signed awaits the first mail to the outer world. After getting it ready yesterday Brenda concluded that she would have company to tea. Therefore she invited the other portion of the colony to drop over at 7 PM. The children had an early supper, undressed themselves and put themselves in their little beds—all but Huniken. He has not yet arrived at the discretionary age, with a knowledge of buttons and button holes. He was put in his little bed by his Ma and long before the guests arrived the three were quietly sleeping. At 7 precisely our diminiutive [sic] bell rattled on the night air and soon after Mr. and Mrs. F.W. crossed the potato beds and dropped up the kitchen steps. The big white lamp, with a red wick (our novelties per last freight arrival) burned brightly. Its rays fell on three varieties of roses, rich in perfume, surrounded by geranium leaves and three of a variegated leaf now abundant “in our garden.” Cold venison from the saddle of my slaughtered buck, preserved strawberries (opened for the first time) and one of the big pineapple cheeses (also making its initial appearance for this occasion only) with a dish of snowy cold hominy and some of Ben’s extra superfine bread—and tea—were the other adornments. A lightwood stick in the stove, visable [sic] through the mica of its front door, looks cheerily and bright with flame like a piece of Cannel coal. The kitchen interior looked comfortable and cosy and we set=to in good earnest. I may speak for all and say we enjoyed this little spread very much. Afterward we sat and read and talked and gossiped until ½ past 9 o’c. Then the meeting adjourned [last line(s) partially cut off on photocopy]

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This morning the weather began warming and grew warmer. There were a few rain drops pattering on the roof before day but only a few. Clouds appeared at intervals and the day was a warm one without breeze. All the afternoon we had a real “glass kane” and the beautiful bay was like a mirror. Just after dinner Pepi and Williams arrived from down the bay in Weeks $30 boat. They brought 200 clams and we took half @ 1 cent a piece. They also brought the first news of the Tilden victory in politics, without any of the details. Pepi proposes an oyster trip before many days to the Matelot “shay.” I was surprised to learn of a new boarder at Pepi’s. It is a boy, Gregoria Pepi by name, and 1 month and 18 days of age. Swain is a grandfather and he bears his honors meekly. Pepi also stated that snow fell last week at his place and that ice was there 2 inches thick. There must have been many degrees of temperature difference between tother side and this. Lockhart had no ice and his pumpkin and tender vines stood the cold. Pepi referred to the immense mass of dead fish in the Harbor. All kinds lay strewed about, Jew fish, Tarpon, bonita cat fish etc etc. He nearly froze himself diving for oysters. Tonight the weather is warm and intense quiet reigns. We can hear the dogs bark on the other side and the cow bells jingle. The mill whistle seemed only a hundred yards away when it blew its blast at sundown.

P.G.C.Tuesday December 12, 1876 Warm again. Delightful Florida weather. Fine breeze from N.W. nearly all day, with only occasional lulls. Fred and I worked lively all the morning and knocked off at noon. Before that time the “Laura” had appeared on the bay and anchored at Rowan’s—At ½ past 12 I sat down to dinner and was enjoying my venison hash when I saw the huge sails of big schooner over the cabbage trees of the lower head. The air was thick with tropical mist and the sails looked ghostly. Besides they were in just the spot where sails never appear and in as shoal water as

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any in the bay. I hurried through dinner and as the deacon’s hash was not ready we manned the white boat and went on a voyage of discovery. As we came up to the schooner we found her name to be the “Stiram S. Tuthill,” a 42 ton boat, and just from Key West, bound for Ogden in the employ of Miller and Henderson of Tampa. She was rigged with cattle pens and had Captain, mate, steward, cook and three men. We went on board. Every thing was shipshape and clean. Not knowing the channel the captain had made directly in without moving over to Pepi’s. Although drawing but 4 feet 6 inches she ran on and “hung by her heels.” I marked out the channel, a kedge was got out, and while the boat was hauled off the Captain, by our advice went ashore for Pepi to pilot them up the river. This schooner would have suited Carrie Phillips, as it really had a state room leading from the large cabin. This cabin was furnished with table, stools, and had an oil cloth on the floor. It was quite a craft. The “Laura” started up stream and we left. As she neared us we spoke her also. Weeks and Newt Waldron were on board. Letters had been left at Rowans. Both schooners left Key West on Thursday last. Back we went to P.G.C., Fred got his dinner and afterward we rowed over to Rowan’s (Waldrons.) “Old man Rowan met us and invited us to “walk up to the house.” We did. But our letters had gone up to De Costers. We “took chairs” on the front piazza and listened to news. Rowan was the one who took the “surveyors” of the Rail-road down the harbor to look for tide water. From their conversation he gathered that the road will be a positive thing. They had “viewed out” the road to Fort Meade and from that point were undecided what point to strike in the harbor. Two places seemed to head the list. One on the Miaca, and the other at “Burnt Stores” just below Punta Gorda. Rowan believed that the Miaca would be the spot and in a few weeks

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he proposes to back up his belief and “settle” thereabouts. Should such a road be built I think the chances are more in favor of “Burnt Stores” than any where on the Miaca. Rowan proposed to sail for Manatee tomorrow and we sent an order for 1 bag of corn @ $1.20 per bush. Kerosene oil there is 50 cents par gal for Pratts and 60 cents for common. Sugar 10 cents. Manatee syrup 50 cents, Flour from $8 to $10. etc etc. Better bargains can be had there than at Key West, and I hope the “Mary” will continue to make trips there. She now makes a regular thing of it once in 2 weeks; as Rowan says: “Mainly for accomodation.” [sic] The old gentleman seems to be a good natured bright speciman [sic] of a man. His family is large and equally bright and quick. Everything looked clean and cosy in the house and Madame ironed in lively fashion on the back piazza. Waldron now wants $1.000 for his “grove” and Rowan do’n’t see more than half of it. Finally we raised a few stamps and left for De Costers. By the way I sent a batch of “diary” by the “Mary.” Coming across the bay we passed under the stern of the “Tuthill,” with Pepi piloting, under good headway and moving “like a thing of life” up stream. As we left Rowans she was just beyond Coon Key becalmed. At the “judges” we got our mail to Nov. 28. and then went home. This evening I, and Brenda, have sat in the little box of a kitchen and read up the news. The political aspect is indeed worrying. It hardly seems possible that the present administration will be bad enough to go to extremes. Tilden was without doubt elected. It is rather bold to count in Hayes. Of course there will be much trouble until the College meet and perhaps after, but our chances seem good even yet. To think of the whole business hanging upon Florida. I am anxious to see more “Sun” light on the subject. What a manly and bright little sheet the “Sun” is, by the way. The “Florida New Yorker” gives some news and some

Page 292 good “points.” That you marked referring to oranges in pine lands needing manure I had already made up my mind to nab upon weeks ago. My manure heap is baking in readiness—made of Jew and cat fish. This I shall try a little at a time and see how it acts. Swamp muck is too sour, but excellent when properly prepared. According to all I have read about orange culture it makes considerable difference whether a tree has proper food or none at all. In going over my young trees I find they have made plenty of roots, but the tops look sickly. I therefore judge that they are only hungry and are making extra roots to search for food. The tap and lower roots grow better and find more drink in white sand and the feeding roots never lower their bunches beneath the surface spread around for the provision business. Mulching gives a certain quantity, but I am almost positive that a proper quantity of manure will give what is necessary. At all events I’ll try it gradually and see the result. This evening I planted 26 more hills of tommies. At De Costers I got a package of 200 dried Bahama and Nassau orange seeds. These Fred and I will try, but don’t expect much success in the raising thereof.

P.G.C.Wednesday December 13, 1876 It was very foggy when day broke and quite a novelty appeared on the window panes. They were covered with “steam” and as I brushed it away to look for the “Tuthill” I found to my surprise it would’n’t brush worth a cent. It was on the outside! As I trotted over to light the fire for Ben, while she, as usual, looked after the mite, I noticed the big white sails over Coon Key. And they are only a little beyond that point tonight. We have had “glass Kain” and low tide nearly all day and it has been had for the stranger. Rice cakes for breakfast and Fried clams for dinner

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gave a good working basis. Things moved, and yet the weather was very warm. Fred tells me that he had a visitor last night: a small owl came in his kitchen and looked wisely at him and Anna. Early this morning he shot a “quail hawk” supposing it was old “quack.” The dried Jew fish was in the sun today. It looks and smells like fine cod fish. “Look out for “Jew fish balls” and “mullet balls” about these days “our family Almanax states. Freddie Phip and the baby with their wagon do considerable root collecting nowadays. Freddie chops them up and Phip brings them in to the kitchen. But this afternoon I found Master Hunikin seated on a board back of the kitchen; with a root the size of a lead pencil in one hand and the hatchet deftly held in the other trying to furnish his share for tomorrow’s breakfast. No mullet today. Yesterday a flock of cormorants (about 1000 strong) with a generous sprinkling of seagulls settled on the Coon Key bar. There was a jolly squawking over yon during the settling.

P.G.C. Thursday December 14, 1876 Sultry, warm, and very quiet out of doors. Air damp and no breeze to vary. At last the Tuthill passed up Peace Creek out of sight about 10 o’c this morning. She has had rather a poor reception for a stranger. On her return the colony will send out some letters, Via Tampa. Our small kitchen was rather warm today when the fire was burning. As there was no wind to speak of the heat had little chance to work out. But we managed to take our meals there not uncomfortably. A few mullet drove past this afternoon but we did not go for them. They looked rather thin, as concerns schools. From day to day I have used the inferior boards in my lumber pile, sawed in strips; for battening. Just after dinner I put on the last strip. The

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kitchen is now finished. It looks quite prepossessing in its new dress of batten boards. The store house receives the noon work now and will slowly progress without any drawback to other work. When finished we shall feel quite at home again. There is an opinion prevailing in the colony that the last flour is the best we have ever had. It makes the finest quality of bread. The molasses is delicious also and we enjoy it so much. So far as sugar is concerned we have all got so accustomed to drink our coffee and tea without it that we should have to acquire the taste again to reserve it and therefore we economise and do without it, using it for cooking purposes—for dried apples etc. The coffee is prime and has an excellent twang to it. In fact every thing we have in store tastes delicious. The pork has not been opened yet. That will come in handy by and by. But the appetisers that hit the seat of comfort are the vegetables. How we do enjoy them. Our piece de resistance today was roast venison from the ham. How we smacked our lips and wished you had a taste. This venison has been a fair exchange for the potato leaves eaten. I’d like to barter a few more at the same price. We are all getting to be “bloated aristocrats” again and our appetites are huge. Dried mullet and roe went nicely for breakfast. Instead of corn fed dough faces, we are rosy in that quarter.

P.G.C. Friday December 15, 1876 Sultry and clammy. Fog in morning and damp until noon. Then clouds and sunshine in equal parts unshaken by a breeze. The only incident of the day was the drifting in shore of three crackers in De Costers boat who were waiting for mullet. I went down to the shore to enjoy my after dinner smoke and listened to the gossip. One cracker had just returned from the St.

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Johns River region. He had been on a logging tow and was there as the cold snap came. Ice was thick and capable of bearing a man. Snow fell also, and all the orange and bananas were frozen stiff and most of the former killed. All through the country to within 20 miles of Charlotte Harbor vegetation was tapped and bananas killed. He was surprised to find so little damage done here. What will be the result of such a wholesale “freeze”? Will any settlers of that locality wish to become settlers of this. All the guavas were ruined and we can all now start fair. My little fellows look thrifty and untouched by frost. Some ½ an inch high and yet green. Others 6 inches high are doing splendidly. And most of them are pears with some of a very fine white variety. The hen house shows a lusus naturae, a hen with tail feathers all over its body, a sort of domestic porcupine. “What shall we do about it?”

P.G.C. Saturday December 16, 1876 We are momentarily expecting the “Tuthill” down from Ogden. She has a fair wind and the tide is low. Therefore I have stopped work for a few moments to add a line for to day and close up matters for this mail. I hope by next opportunity to write that our Post Office is a fact. The heavy salary of $12 per year ought to tempt some one. All the family are well. Ben however still has visitations of pain in the side and each member of the colony has a “code id der head” but we are otherwise healthy. The day opens damply and much smokiness is visable [sic] in the distance. The sun is rapidly gaining power and we will swelter by and by. We shall drink your several healths on Christmas day in a bumper of claret and wish you many returns of the same. Please drop in and take a bite with us. Dinner at 1 o’c. Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor, Fla. Sunday December 17, 1876

My dear Pa. After all the schooner “Tuthill” did not come. And up to this evening has not put in an appearance. It is probably owing to extreme low tides and the immensity of the vessel. All day long the colony has been in a state of scratch—not such as we inaugurate in mosquito times—but pen scratching on paper. There will be a fine lot of postage to pay on the result if that schooner don’t come soon. But, the writing has been interspersed with pig chasing. Fred’s potatoes this time are being overhauled. From the ear slits we make out the pigs to be Lockharts. The last chase sent them across the tide creek, with a rising tide and when I went for water they were back again. These wild hogs of Lockharts go through the fence in the water and don’t make much trouble about it. Fred has been on the lookout and very little comparative damage has been done. Warm weather with only light winds and a heavy smell of decayed catfish in the air. Every two feet of beach has its bloated cat festering in the sun. Even the buzzards have been worked far beyond their strength. Crowds of them were roosting in the dead branches of the “head,” looking woe begone and desolate and wishing for more capacity to enjoy the feast spread before them. The past week has been a sort of buzzard’s holiday and I really believe they have, for the first time in eight years, got enough. Their grunts and “heavy breathing” show how much they have tried to “clear the table.” Neuse has barked himself hoarse in endeavor to frighten them off and the poor dog’s leg’s must ache. The last of the venison went out of our larder into the natural channel today. Now for little “Tu-cheener.”

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P.G.C. Monday December 18, 1876 The “hogs” don’t use in Fred’s patch today. But this afternoon he poled the skiff down to Lockharts to see if he would’n’t be neighborly enough to try and keep them home. But the “old man” had gone up Peace Creek to be gone 2 days and Fred found only Mrs. L. at home. She felt about as bad as the deacon and signified that is was a shame etc. She thought Fred might “catch the old sow and tow’em down.” Think of Fred playing “Sooey, Sooey” and dragging one hog, with the others “towing” after! She promised to “pen’em up if they’d come in” and she hoped they would’n’t ‘borther” any more. Before Lockhart left he “got a young lady” to stop with her—so she said. There’s another chance Baggs has missed! Fred came home, fixed his fence and he will be on the anxious seat all night. His onions are coming up fine. Vines rather slowly. He don’t wnat the pigs to bring them up too fast. Another warm day with considerable variety in cloud and wind—but no schooner. What is she at?

P.G.C. Tuesday December 19, 1876 At last as we gaze up river the first thing both Fred and I notice the schooner with stern down stream just beyond the Hewes house. She has evidently been fortunate in finding, what we couldnt, and prefers to hold on. As the tide is falling rapidly we are certain that she is fast aground. Nine letters are scribbled and postc[r]ipts added and at last as she spends the day, without changing, Fred and I propose taking the letters up after tea. A goodly lot of mullet pass. We yank out 44 in all, but find it difficult work they are so lively. They are mostly little fellows and very fat and nice. We select for ourselves and their stowaway a dozen for the “Tuthill.” We each have tea

Page 298 at 5 o’c and with the skiff under sail “drop up.” Darkness covers us before we reach Coon Key. Then the stars fail and drifting clouds obscure the 3 day old moon. We have a nice northerly breeze and make for Camp Whiffle, round the point and tack up. It is nearly 9 o’c when we make our last tack and bump the schooner’s jolly boat, the wind having almost died out and the tide changed. She is in 4 feet of water on a bar that extends completely across the channel where Peace Creek forks into Bird Key and the Ship Channel. No one is awake but we finally bring the Captain on deck in airy costume of shirt and drawers and we go down in the Cabin. It seemed really too bad that the boat had got so delayed for in her hold were 20.000 of the finest oranges I ever tasted. They would average 4 ½ to 5 inches in diameter, with thin skins and excellent flavor. It would have been quite a card for Charlotte Harbor for them to have reached a market in as good condition as we saw them. But the Captain feared the result as he hardly expected to get over the bar for 2 or 3 days. He divided half a dozen of the “fruit” between us. We sat and smoked, presented our mullet—and letters—heard another visitor knocking at the stern door, who proved to be Lockhart with 100 more oranges for seed which he gave Platt $1.50 for; watched the crew, roused from sleep, as they brought the achor [sic] 5 feet nearer home, without budging the big boat and talked and gossiped for an hour. Youmans was on shore tearing down the Hewes House and appropriating the lumber, by the light of pine knots. During the day he had killed a rattlesnake with 12 rattles and also had cut a moccasin in two, near

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the schoner [sic] , with an axe. At ½ past 9 o’c, with a light wind, we started down Bird Key Channel for home and reached there and brought up at the wharf comfortably an hour after. At times on the way up and in coming back we had the grandest kind of water fireworks. The water would boil with phosphoresence [sic] and the mullet and small fish would slap in roman candles pin-wheels and chasers by the hundred. We had a splendid sail and the little skiff worked like “a thing of life.” By the way Fred went into the “head” today for prickly pears. One of the cabbages had been toppled over and this written in charcoal on a dried stem: “cut this day 8 December Sharlots Harber” Who’s the vandal? Today Anna has not been acting the character of a sort of tropical Betsey Trotwood with her “Fred; pigs!” as formerly. We haint had none.

P.G.C. Wednesday December 20, 1876 The “Tuthill” lies in bed all day and I suppose so do most of her crew. The captain is getting short of provisions and we may be able to trade some sweet potatoes for oranges—when he comes down. He is also crazy for a deer and being a Massachusetts man thinks the sight of 50 Peace Creek Alligators a “big thing.” The Tuthill came from New York to Key West and so here. She was bought by “Miller and Henderson” for coasting trade between Tampa and Key West, but she is too big for Peace Creek, when the water is low. She can only be moved at high tide and she made but 5 feet today. Lockhart, who walked up to see us, was on board all night, and he says they started to drag her off the bar, or over, at flood tide and made 5 feet and then “dragged the anchor home” with a man sitting on it.

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I am afraid the orange speculation will not pay well. It is too bad. It was pretty warm today and I took a long pull at the store house, adding roof and floor. The door and shutters will finish it. We opened the pork to day in a stock of grease for Christmas. As usual it was A No 1. as before and in excellent condition. Not a drop of brine was lost. Tomorrow Fred and I will go over to Alligator Creek, or in the hammock near it and try to find where turkeys “use.” We shall start early.

P.G.C. Thursday December 21, 1876 A dense fog with falling mist obscured the rising sun. Breakfast was early on the table and quickly eaten. Then Fred and I shouldered rifle and shotgun and without sunshine and with fog we started to find Alligater [sic] Creek and perhaps a turkey. Outside the fence we found Lockharts pigs. These we drove back nearly two miles and left them rooting in a pond. By this time we were wet up to the “fork” of our unmentionables. We struck a bee line for Turkey Hammock. In smashing through a saw grass pond we jumped two deer—a buck and a doe. And just as we came in sight of Turkey Hammmock another couple—a doe and fawn. Still no sun, but less fog and an overcast sky. The four deer had better eyesight than we had and saw us first, otherwise we might have had Mr Tu-Cheener. Striking off S.E. we passed several ponds and small hammocks and through much saw palmetto all dripping with dew and mist. Three miles beyond we saw an opening and took it for Charlotte Harbor. We changed our course more to the east and a mile further we came to a large hammock with a perfect mass of tangle. I crept in and saw nothing. Satisfied I crept out again. Fred went around.

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[first line(s) partially cut off on photocopy] the scene was a second edition, flattened out more, of the Shell Creek view we saw the morning we started from our camp for Whidden’s. The cabbages were fewer but there were many scrub oaks and the pine woods shutting it all in. Through this scrub we gradually pushed our way and found Alligater [sic] Creek sluggish and quiet below us, shut in by high banks overgrown with much stunted bush and tree. Five or six ‘gators flopped into the water. Looking along the stream we saw these fellows everywhere never less than three or four visable [sic] at any moment we were working along shore. Live oak, cabbage, hickory and tall saw palmetto, with a generous filling in of scrub made locomotion slow. The stream was about the same size as Shell Creek, but not so picturesque. A few patches of tall and shrub bayonets notified us that they were around. Prickly vines abounded and almost threw us in the “drink” several times. We progressed for ½ a mile through this tangle, finding any quantity of turkey, wild cat and bear “sign” but nothing more. The turkeys were evidently out for the day and would’n’t be back until roosting time. In the scrub, directly on the bank with a big live oak, rich in orchids and hanging moss, and two tall bayonets, as sentinels we built a fire and took lunch. The alligators passed in review and winked a welcome. The water was so clear that we could see their “arms and legs.” held tight to their bodies and the tip of the tail turned into a scull to propel. They took matters easily and did not seem to be the least afraid of us. We closed our meal with a good smoke, dried out feet and then took a little more tangle. But we gave it up. The result did not warrant the trouble. So we started off to the woods again. We saw quantities

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of moving objects and stalked up to them only to find wild cattle. We must have “hunted” a hundred head in our rambles. At one time we saw 10 in a bunch grazing, all red, or not far from deer color. We sneaked crept and worked up within shot, only to find them cattle instead of deer. Then we come out of cover and walked on rather carelessly. Suddenly with a blow three deer spring from the midst of them and went madly off with their white tails flying in every direction. But they seemed too far of[f] for a shot. Towards 3 o’c the sun came out and the clouds gradually disappeared. But we saw no more deer. At 4 o’c we waded knee deep through the “big pond” and at ½ past 4 we were home after a good tramp of 12 or 13 miles. And we were pretty well tired out, I reckon! We had fired no shots, got no turkies and were “played.” However, Christmas has’n’t come yet and we may get a bird or two yet. While we were gone Ben made a couple of pumpkin pies, her first attempt. They look and smell about right and both portions of the colony will pass the verdict in a day or two. The pigs had not come back during our absence. The schooner “Tuthill” we found still behind the Key holding on to the Hewes House remains and all went well in our absence. But the tide is rising and our schooner may come down in the morning. Her captain promised to come ashore. If so I’ll send this portion of diary. If not, next time. The mites are all abed and asleep. 4 pails of water have been brought over and the kitchen has been looked after, as usual, and no open match box left on the ledge. The moon and stars are out skylarking and a line of mist shows up

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among the pine trunks. The bay is glassy. No breeze blows. There is a big light at the mill; but Gillis has not returned. No one knows when the mill will commence running. It must be paying property. “Mary” has made a week of it and not yet returned. We want some corn cake again. Perhaps we’ll get it by Christmas. On that day Fred and Anna will take dinner with us and we will tea with them in jollification of the day. We shall not have such a spread as last year, but try to have a good dinner nevertheless. I wish that the entire Howard family could partake of it. And now, being rather tired I’ll rest.

P.G.C. Friday December 22, 1876 As the fog clears this morning we notice the Tuthill under way and with sails white and prominent slowly making down the Ship Channel toward Camp Whiffle. The wind is light and hardly fair as it blows from the south. The sky is still over cast. We have finished breakfast and Fred has popped Lockhart’s pigs with a charge of peas. A bunch of quail are frisking about the traps and we may catch some for Christmas. The Colony is well and health and good appetites abound. As the schooner comes we shall board her with the skiff and send this additional series of notes. We all wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year—and hope you wont all get “friz out.” The first egg of the season—was laid three day ago. More anon. With love to all Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Fla. Friday December 22, 1876

My dear Pa,

After closing up my diary this morning, we concluded to board the schooner, do a little trading, and add one more letter to the list. Accordingly, we entered the BB. and pulled out; as the “Tuthill” had cleared Coon Key. But she ran aground again and is still a fixture this evening. We traded ½ bush. of potatoes for 2 dozen oranges, and came ashore. The 20.000 were not in as good condition as they ought to be, and I am afraid the speculation will not be a very profitable one. About 3 o’c this afternoon I shouldered my gun again and went out to the “pens.” After crossing the “slew” I came upon a doe feeding in a small grass pond. I “put me behind a tree” without disturbing her, and saw the monogram of Mrs. “Tu-cheener” marked plainly in the neighborhood of the “flag.” Gradually I pushed forward to another tree. Here I was within good rifle shot—perhaps 150 yards—and I wanted less distance. Divesting myself of my hunting haversack I prepared to snake it. The only cover was a bunch of saw palmetto to windward; no trees; and grass only knee high. I crawled along and stopped for occasional glimpses. I made a hundred feet and then on making a final look—found no doe. She had disappeared. I kept on crawling, however and did reach a sapling where I could stand up again. But the “critter” was’n’t visable [sic] any where. I looked through my glass in every direction, and then, without cover, walked cautiously forward. After a dozen steps came a crash and away she went from out the bunch of palmetto about 120 yards away. I fired and missed for the “flag” was not hauled down. From the spot where I first saw her to the

Page 305 spot she jumped from was 80 feet and how she managed to get there is a puzzle. The ways of the Heathen Chinee are odd and peculiar and past finding out by me. On to the pens. And new 2 miles beyond, I walked and saw no more deer but about 50 head of cattle. Then I sat and smoked. Suddenly, I jumped, for a “yaller dorg” appeared before me. Old “Neuse” had followed my trail. I was’n’t vexed, Oh, no! I tried to give him a touch of leather and send him home, but he squirmed out of reach and sat in a bunch of palmettos and fairly laughed at me. My hunt was over. But I tried to deceive the dog and get away. Whether he followed or not I can’t say—but I beat him home. I hunted several new localities, chased two deer over a mile and could’n’t get them located. They were as playful as kittens. I saw two more, but they saw me. Just at dusk I finished my 8 mile tramp and brought in my game—a big stick of lightwood. As I felt for my big jack knife after tea, to slice off some “baccy,” I could’n’t find it. I must have dropped it at the lightwood tree when Neuse came upon me. In a day or two I shall go back to the same spot and hunt that—and deer also. While I was away Fred went out to Alligater [sic] Pond and around that locality. He found quail, but no larger game stirring. He says that when my gun went off Neuse was at the house. His nose led him to me and it must be a very faithful servant to him. Mrs. Tu cheener’s monogram could’n’t have been on that doe after all.

P.G.C. Saturday December 23, 1876 I tried hard this morning to coax a bunch of quail into the trap but without success. They would trot all around, pick up peas just under the edge; and one fellow, as fat as butter, whisked his tail against the figure 4 and sprung it.

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Then I gave up the business. A heavy fog rested on the bay and over every thing on P.G.C. from daylight until 8 o’c. As it broke, and the wind from the Southard lifted it in pieces, the “Tuthill” came out like a phantom ship in mid=air pointing up stream. Before noon she had worked her way down the channel, touching only once and before we sat down to dinner the 20.000 oranges—minus our 2 dozen—were on the way to market. This afternoon I devoted to clearing up for Christmas, raking under and around the house, clearing up paths and making things look shipshape. I also made myself into Santa Claus and prepared a schooner for Freddie and a dingy for Phip. I have just finished the rigging and Ben has made real sails of cloth. But it was difficult work to keep 3 pairs of curious eyes from finding out “what Papa was doing “before bedtime. The schooner will be christened the “Nick”; not “old Nick” —but new “Nick.”

P.G.C. Sunday December 24, 1876 “’Twas the night before Christmas etc etc.” The mites are in their nests—Hunikin having been the last to go. Brenda has just finished stuffing 3 stockings with actual “odds and ends.” Fred sent his offering—a whirligig Anna made some mottoes, Ben popped corn and tied it up in pink bags and three big oranges make a bulky looking calf to each shin stocking—as it hangs by the double window. The schooner with sails up, and signal halyards taut, holding a blue red and white flag on the topmast, rests on the lounge and Santa Claus’ offerings are all placed where they will do the most good. Tomorrow the fun will commence some where about day light. The weather today has been exceedingly warm, particularly in the woods. After dinner I went out beyond the pens to hunt my knife—and I carried gun and powder flask trusting to run across our Christmas dinner.

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Just beyond the “pens.” with the wind behind me unfortunately, I disturbed 3 deer. They ran a short distance and I tried to creep on them; but they must have scented me, for before I got up to them away they went flying—another one joining in the race after a while. Half a mile further up jumped another from a bunch of palmettos, almost within shot. He stepped handily over the palmettos and made himself scarce. I stopped for a moment to look about me and 5 more broke cover and went off in single file like a railroad train, with “flags” flying and presenting a beautiful sight. Deer were becoming plenty by this time. I made a careful survey and then went ahead again. Off to the right I noticed the tree where I left my knife. As I neared it up jumped a doe and away she went. It was rather vexatious to see the game and get no shots, but they all had wind of me and I had no show. In the grass, “by the tree aforesaid,” I found my knife, a trifle rusted, and just where I cut my tobacco was the “sign” of a turkey, a day old, as a sort of defiance to my shooting. I loaded up my pipe and safely packed my knife away and struck the back track for home. This side of the pens I saw two more deer and was making up nicely to them when 4 whooping cranes appeared directly ahead. I dropped behind a tree and debated whether we should have venison or whooper (?) for Christmas. The deer settled it by running off. And then I went for the gray backs. But they saw me and with a corkscrew cry away they went. I watched and marked them down in the big grass pond near the pens. More careful this time I went from tree to tree for ½ a mile and got safely up to the border of the pond. At first I could’n’t see my game, but with the glass I found them—on the opposite side 300 yards away. The sun was setting fast

Page 308 and I gave up all hope of getting any thing and started for home. My starting did not disturb the birds and I went back and began a crawl around the pond, rising occasionally behind a tree for a sight at them and to stretch my back. It was awful tough business, but I kept it up and actually got within 60 yards without putting them up. A big pine was placed here for my especial convenience. As soon as I could shake the kinks out of my arms I took careful aim and fired. They were nicely bunched but 3 took to the wing and the 4th hesitated. I fired again at him and he jumped about a little and finally disappeared. Reloading, I made for the spot wading ankle deep to get there. But I found that he had tried to get to the woods and I found him dead on the shore under a palmetto bush. As I took this big bird by the neck and hung him over my shoulder his feet reached below the calf of my leg. Satisfied I hurried home and reached there just as it grew to be positively dark. Fred, meanwhile, had gone to Alligater [sic] Pond and Deer Hammock and he came in 10 minutes later without having seen a thing. 13 deer and 4 cranes in an afternoon’s walk was not bad, was it? We shall feast right royally after all.

P.G.C. Christmas 1876 The day is gone the feast is ended and all the colony is as “full as a tick.” There is an uncomfortable feeling about ones centre of gravity that “borthers.” Fred and Anna have just left and gone out into the moonlight and the “remains” of our feast—a dish of oranges, a carcase, and several dishes of vegetables stand ghostlike and thin on the big table. At daylight—just as the faintest possible light appeared—Freddie and Phip were up and looking after Santa Claus’ leavings!

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What little things will satisfy the craving of the “small fry” —You never saw more delighted youngsters. The schooner hit Freddie’s idea exactly and Phip was wild over his red dingy with white interior. The oranges made their eyes flash and the molasses cakes, candies mottos and popcorn seemed to please them as much as New York youngsters are pleased with greater variety. We soon followed the mites by dressing and long before any sun appeared we were through breakfast and commencing preperations [sic] for dinner. The whooper weighed 8 lbs only before dressing, but it peeled well and showed much meat. Ben stuffed it, while I prepared wood and water and then I fixed up a side table with a couple of barrels, hidden by a table cloth. There was a lively time in the kitchen and the result appeared on the table in the house at ¼ to 3 o’c. Two extra leaves had to be inserted. First came out Florida “turkey” —the whooper—baked brown and crisp, and emitting a most savory appetising odor—a dozen oranges in the big glass dish made a good Florida center piece; five different vegetables—sweet potatoes, as a Florida offering and onion beets, carrots and white potatoes representing Kinderhook; in place of cranberries for our turkey, we had prickly pears stewed; for desert [sic] pumpkin pies, made from Indian pumpkins (these “fruit” have to be chopped open with a hatchet, the “shell” being almost as hard and tough as a cocoanut) but at the same enclosing the perfection of pumpkin, fine in texture, rich in flavor and thoroughly pumpkin) The crust Ben made of pork fat, but as clear as lard the big cheese added the contrast to the pie and helped to flavor. To crown all we had some St Julian claret and we all, except Hunikin sat down to the feast about 3 o’c. The baby had his chair table at Ben’s elbow and shared in the contest. I forgot to mention that

Page 310 a vase of roses would have crowned the table in addition had it not been forgotten in the hurry of preperation. [sic] The whooper was a funny turkey to carve. The black meat was on the breast and the white on the second joint. The wings were more than double the usual turkey length, these being about 10 inches long. The drumsticks were lengthened out also and as they were claimed by Phip and Freddie were soon in service. The meat of the bird was far ahead of wild turkey. It was juicy and with a flavor of wild duck tame goose and turkey combined, entirely different from any bird yet gracing our tropical table! Besides it was remarkably tender. The unamamous [sic] opinion was that roast whooper was the A No. 1 bird of Florida—if all are like this one. During the progress of the meal we drank to the “absent ones,” the “providers of the feast,” the “invited guests” and “all our friends and relations.” Every thing worked nicely and we all enjoyed our Christmas dinner. Perhaps we ate too much! But it was Christmas time. After the dinner Ben prepared to enjoy herself with the rest and we all adjourned to the front piazza; Fred and I brought out our pipes and we smoked and wondered how you all at Kinderhook were managing it. During the talk Ben collected the plates and leavings, put them in the borrowed butter tray and came back. I carried the goods over to the kitchen and the cleaning up will be left until tomorrow. How we wished that you and Mother and “Sis” and Bags were with us. It was all we wanted to make our dinner a perfect success. The thermometer stood at 85° nearly all day and a delicious south- westerly breeze was blowing all the time. And so ends our Christmas.

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By the way I forgot to mention that we all “dressed up” for the occasion. Fred and I had boiled and starched shirts collars and cuffs. He with black clothes and I in swallow tail and white choker (ahem!) We also had our boots blacked. Ben donned her new head dress (only 6 mos. old) and her blue spotted dress—costing just $1.50 before it was made up. Anna had a pretty new head dress—of late manufacture and a dress, with white collar and cuffs. The children were in their best and this establishment looked as fine as a fiddle.

P.G.C. Tuesday December 26, 1876 Still warm and summery with fog clouds rapidly moving to the north and occasionally coming low enough to close us in. Much dampness occurs in early morning but dries up with the sunshine. At ½ past 8 o’c Fred and I took the B.B. and went across the bay. The “Mary” was in yesterday and we wanted some corn. The mill looked woebegone and desolate and no chance of a grind was promised. Not a soul “used” around there. Then we tacked to De Costers. He had passed Christmas Day on Peace Creek rowing against tide to get home before dark. Three men with a letter from Gruelle, supposed to be connected with the “Charlotte Harbor and Northern Central R.R. of Florida” (the new name given the road at a stock holders meeting in Philadelphia a month ago) had been three days with De Coster, but left in consequence of being unable to “find any corn ofr their horses.” They were to take soundings off Cape Hay and at the mouth of the Myacka. Weeks took them down in his boat and De Coster says they found 11 feet at Cape Hays, appeared satisfied

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and went home. A letter from Gruelle to De Coster said that he himself now secretary of the Co would visit Charlotte Harbor soon. De Coster also showed us a letter from your friend Badfish [?] to Capt Henry concerning this part of the world. We talked over prospects and left for Rowan’s. The wind was fresher and quite a heavy sea on as we tacked down. Fred was crew and I helmsman as usual and we made Pepi’s house on the first pull—where Mr. and Mrs and the young Gregory waved us a welcome. In three more tacks, with wind dead ahead, we reached Rowan’s. “O.M.” Rowan came down, with a high white hat, to meet us. “Come ashore, gentlemen, glad to see you—walk up to the house.” He had come back from Manatee last Wednesday, but no corn could be had there. On the way up the harbor he met Weeks and the RR. men. According to Weeks account the party went ashore at Cape Hay for 5 minutes only, made no soundings whatever and said they were satisfied. So much for De Coster’s news. Could this R.R. business be a stock jobbing affair, or is it a regular thing? What do you hear, if anything, up your way? I am getting to be rather skeptical; but should the road really be built, after all, I think “Burnt Stores” will be the terminus. Toward the latter part of the week Rowan will go again to Manatee. On Friday Pepi will take the “Laura” to Key West. I shall send this by the latter opportunity. Our run home we made in 15 minutes with the skiff and had just a little more breeze than we wanted. We reached home in time for dinner and had a clear afternoon for work. Lockhart had walked up to see that his pigs were not bothering us and he, in referring to the

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railroad, stated that he had also seen Weeks, who said the same to him as to Rowan.

P.G.C. Wednesday December 27, 1876 A good breeze from down the bay all day and a pretty good tide. Rain fell in a few drops at noon and fog clouds, as yesterday sailed over us “low down.” Just after dinner grubbing was interupted [sic] for 10 minutes. A small school of mullet played circus near the wharf. Fred and I went for them. I threw the net, made a perfect spread and caught so many that the leading string broke. There must have been 50 in at the least. The interior of the net was one solid mass of fish. But in getting the net I had to lose them all. Hurriedly tying the broken ends together I took another throw and got only 10. This was all we wanted and we came ashore. Out of curiosity—I should like to have counted the first haul. They were finely bunched. For dinner today we had fried clams again. They were delicious as usual. A hundred clams give the colony about 20 good meals—5 cents per meal. There are plenty more in the “clam bed.” The “Mary” went to the mill today to load with lumber. Pepi went up river yesterday to fix up the “Laura.” By the way. Pepi bartered 800 mullet, salted, for a yoke of oxen, lately. Our potato vines are putting on a nice new dress of green leaves and look fresh and cool in the warm weather.

P.G.C. Thursday December 28, 1876 The heaviest kind of a breeze has blown from S.W. all day. Fred and I hoed all morning and hunted all afternoon. We jumped into the skiff just after dinner and rowed and poled up to the tide creek just this side of Camp Whiffle. There we hid “B.B.” and passed through some rough

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palmetto scrub into the pine woods. We had hardly got our distance and direction marked out when I saw a buck off to the left. I stopped pulled Fred behind a tree and whispered to him that a fair shot was open to him. He misunderstood me and looked at a distance. The deer was within rifle shot. But he saw the antlers just too late. As he lifted his rifle the deer lifted his feet and away he went with two more for company. They evidently had wind of us. Fred was disappointed. Had he seen it as I did he would have had a shot. We made for the pens. Nothing showed up. We sat down there for rest and smoked. Then we went to the “Whooper Pond” for a drink. It was full of water about a foot deep and yet cold and pure. As we came up out of the pond I saw two deer feeding 300 yards away. Then we crept and crept and crept. On hands and knees and hunky fashion we went toward them keeping under cover of pines. Suddenly they were invisible. But judging they were only lying down we kept on. Finally we got within a hundred yards and one jumped up. We were behind a big tree. Said Fred: “There’s a shot, shall I fire?” “Go ahead.” He took careful aim, fired—and missed. Off went the frightened deer and four more went for company. Fred was still further disappointed and so was I for I was sure he had him. We made a long detour saw 3 cranes and then made for the boat a ½ mile beyond the “pens.” We each saw 5 deer, almost to wind of us. They were frisking and moving along a little faster than a walk. We stooped and run as fast as we could in that way off to the left and around a big clump of saplings and gradually gained on them. ¾ of a mile of this work brought us out in clear woods and ahead. Then they came up, out only 3—2 had stopped behind. One was an enormous buck, with antlers 2 feet high, then a doe

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followed and a small 2 year old buck brought up the rear. We had no more cover, but I started on a crawl through the grass for a nearer show. Then they saw us. I squatted in the grass while Fred hid behind some palmettos. Curiosity became excited in the buck and he gazed, trotted a little toward us, stopped again, shook his tail and then came on a few paces at a time. His old woman would give a look, shake her flag and with a peculiar head motion start off to her lord coming up as if she wanted to know “Well my dear, what do make of them 2.” Then the --- of the family would drop up to the rear and all three would gaze with their black noses pointed toward us. We did not move a hair. On they came within 150 yards, then 120, then closer and finally to about 80 yards. But they were working around to catch our wind. Afraid of that we hesitated no longer. Fred fired at the buck. He sank a little, like a curtsey, and then off they put. I fired. The cap snapped. Then I fired again. The gun hung fire and my charge went over the tree tops. We could’n’t have had a fairer shot either of us and we felt more disappointed than ever. We up stakes and went to the boat, paddled home and no Fred will practise target shooting and I will look out for a cleaner gun next time. It was the best show of hunting yet. We had seen 13 deer and all of them before they saw us. The wind tonight blows a gale and there is a prospect of cold weather coming again. The house don’t shake but the wind howls. And wishing you a Happy New Year I’ll close up for the Laura is to be here to morrow. Ever etc. Jarvee.

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Punta Gorda Chica Charlotte Harbor Fla. Friday December 29, 1876

My dear Pa,

Last night I closed up my diary but no schooner has arrived to day to claim it. However it is ready and now I will recommence and be ready for the next oppertunity. [sic] After yesterday’s hunt Fred and I felt rather tired. The weather opened as disagreeably as you please and misery claimed P.G.C. for her own. It fogged, rained, and was generally dull and miserable. During the night heavy rain with a tremendous wind visited us and the ground was damp and a dreary day resulted. Fred shoots at a target all the morning at long distances and manages to kill much time—if not deer. He remedies yesterday’s errors and makes some telling shots. I try my gun and find it shoots well enough. Then I clean it thoroughly and get ready for next occasion. This occasion we propose to make tomorrow and take the morning for the purpose. All preparations are ready for an early start after breakfast and we hope to succeed this time. We shall take lunch, but hope to get our game and be back to dinner. Tonight the wind blows from N. and very strong. Put in a half day at hoeing up front garden. When finished I shall have a good spot about 75 x 150 which will produce good results—I hope. But it is slow work getting over the ground with grubbing and planter’s hoes. Time will tell.

P.G.C. Saturday Decmber 30, 1876 Cold and cloudy. Thermometer 49° at day break and no sunshine. There are evidences of sunny weather as we start out at 8:30 for our hunt, but we don’t get it until near noon. We make directly for the “pens,” branching out into the more inland woods for our game ½ a mile this side of them. We cover a great deal of ground and see neither cattle nor deer. By noon we have worked around a big circle and approached the shore back of Youman’s

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Here we discover game. Three deer get wind of us and run off grandly; but out of shot. We get closer to shore and pass through some heavy woods, then cross a tide creek and reach quite a “bluff.” Just as we propose finding a spot to rest in and wait for south moon 5 deer start off briskly to the left and we feel cast down at not discovering them first. They make rapid time off with the wind for a change. A bunch of cattle present themselves in the clump of saplings where Fred and I chased after the big buck on Thursday and nearly on a line with the location of that buck when we fired. We camped and ate our lunch, building a fire for comfort. We were smoking quietly and wondering whether we had best put out the fire, when on turning my head I discovered that same old buck and doe feeding about 200 yards away. We kept quiet. Every few moments up would go the 2 foot antlers and the black nose would point our way. The fire was the object, the rising smoke somewhat puzzling the old fellow. Then he would trot on, feed a little, whisk his tail, and suspiciously look again. The doe also would caper about and stop to gaze. But they kept out of shot. We then started to get to them and out of the range of the fire, we had poor cover, or the buck had good eyes, for he must have seen us passing from our palmetto bush to another on all fours. In a wink almost he was 500 yards away and calmly feeding. We tried again and almost reached a good run of trees where one could get along nicely when the son and heir joined them on the jump and away they went out of sight—the three now disappearing in the deep grass along shore. We hunted until 3 o’c but saw no more deer. We saw however, 3 cranes (whoopers) but they were very shy. We came home and spent the remainder of the day chopping wood and digging potatos [sic]. As we came in the “Mary” was beating homeward from her Ogden trip and she had all the wind she wanted.

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To night it is very cold and the air is wintry. Ben and I sit cosily [sic] over the kitchen fire and the children are sleeping under heavy blankets and spare overcoats. It is a saying among crackers that no cold, extreme cold, weather comes after Christmas. It actually seems frosty tonight.

P.G.C. Sunday December 31, 1876 At breakfast time the thermometer was 42°. Slight evidence of frost appears on tender wild plants, but our potato vines and tomatoes show no sign. Across the bay a heavy frost visited. This we learn from young Rowan who comes over in Week’s boat. He brings a package of papers that came by way of Ogden and he was kind enough to take the diary and letters to Pepi on the “Laura,” which latter boat arrived in the bay last night. The rudder of the “Laura” is broken and Pepi will repair it and be off this evening. At 4 o’c the sails were up and I think she went, but I did’n’t see whether she did or not. Pepi has no crew and he will sail the boat alone down to the Keys and then get some one to go on to Key West with him. He must be having a rough time of it now, as the wind blows almost a gale from the east. The “Mary” is still at anchor. Newt Waldron thinks his place is now worth $2000. So young Rowan says. Railroad talk has sent it up. And Weeks wants $80 for his $30 boat. Tonight the weather is not so cold but it is far from warm.