IN THE FLAT-WOODS. 3 
advanced, they receded. It was still only 
the beginning of a wood ; the trees far apart 
and comparatively small, the ground covered 
thickly with saw palmetto, interspersed here 
and there with patches of brown grass or 
sedge. 
In many places the roads were under 
water, and as I seemed to be making little 
progress, I pretty soon sat down in a pleas- 
antly shaded spot. Wagons came along at 
intervals, all going toward the city, most of 
them with loads of wood ; ridiculously small 
loads, such as a Yankee boy would put upon 
a wheelbarrow. ‘A fine day,” said I to the 
driver of such a cart. ‘“ Yes, sir,” he an- 
swered, “it’s a pretty day.” He spoke with 
an emphasis which seemed to imply that he 
accepted my remark as well meant, but 
hardly adequate to the occasion. Perhaps, 
if the day had been a few shades brighter, 
he would have called it ‘‘ handsome,” or even 
“good looking.” Expressions of this kind, 
however, are matters of local or individual 
taste, and as such are not to be disputed 
about. Thus, a man stopped me in Talla- 
hassee to inquire what time it was. I told 
him, and he said, “ Ah, a little sooner than 
