It was nearly noon when I left Lanes on old Bill— It was cold, When I passed the Hall there was no one there but J. R. He went along to the dugout. I packed some things, gathered others together, then rode to the cabin. No one there, then I thought I would go and see Roses, but I could not get old Bill to ford the river. Then I stayed at the cabin, and J. R. took the horse back to Lanes.
I had covered the coals, so I soon had a good fire. Being hungry, I made coffee and boiled mush—which I ate with much molasses, and considerable relish, having had no dinner. Hunger is a good cook. Philip did not come for some time. He had been hunting. Had shot a turkey which he took to Lanes, was surprised not to find me there. Then he went to the dugout and brought more things down. He wished he had not moved as it made it so inconvenient for me.
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