WALKS ABOUT TALLAHASSEE. 
I ARRIVED at Tallahassee, from Jackson- 
ville, late in the afternoon, after a hot and 
dusty ride of more than eight hours. The 
distance is only a hundred and sixty odd 
miles, I believe; but with some bright ex- 
ceptions, Southern railroads, like Southern 
men, seem to be under the climate, and 
schedule time is more or less a formality. 
For the first two thirds of the way the 
country is flat and barren. Happily, I sat 
within earshot of an amateur political econo- 
mist, who, like myself, was journeying to 
the State capital. By birth and education 
he was a New York State man, I heard 
him say ; an old abolitionist, who had voted 
for Birney, Fremont, and all their successors 
down to Hayes —the only vote he was ever 
ashamed of. Now he was a “ greenbacker.” 
The country was going to the dogs, and all 
because the government did not furnish 
money enough. The people would find it 
out some time, he guessed. He talked as a 
