40
	A ramble with Carlyle.
volunteers from inland, marching in double
file, to whom Carlyle: �Fairfield boys � al-
ways ready! good boys!� as they tramped
past us.       They wore no uniforms and not many
had guns.          Dropped into a druggists, to
drink brandy, of course.         Past odd, mean-
looking shops, houses, sheds and shanties.   A
call at a gum-smiths where Carlyle had a
weapon repairing.   A visit to an elderly shab-
byish man named Addison, an English or
Scotchman.    �He says he is a descendant of
the Spectator� said my tall friend �and has
the genealogy.�   I thought that �pious Joe,� as
Walpole calls him, left no offspring.         Re-
turning, near the citadel, Carlyle stopped to
speak with a delighted negro-woman, a slave,
of course.     He talked to her with perfect kind-
ness and she regarded him as an old friend.
We had previously visited a very English-
looking stable, at the corner of a street-like
road, with an umbrageous tree outside and
a pleasant equine smell within.     Returning
to the hotel rather tired, dozed till the gong
summoned me to supper.   Wrote subsequent-
ly till 9, then turned out again to the Ex-
press, to the �Post� and the �Courier� offices.