She and my mother used to entertain us by the hour with tales of life on the Georgia plantations; of hunting fox, deer, and wildcat; of the long-tailed driving horses, Boone and Crockett, and of the riding horses, one of which was named Buena Vista in a fit of patriotic exaltation during the Mexican War; and of the queer goings-on in the Negro quarters.

She knew all the "Br'er Rabbit" stories, and I was brought up on them.

One of my uncles, Robert Roosevelt, was much struck with them, and took them down from her dictation, publishing them in _Harper's_, where they fell flat.

This was a good many years before a genius arose who in "Uncle Remus" made the stories immortal.
My mother's two brothers, James Dunwoodie Bulloch and Irvine Bulloch, came to visit us shortly after the close of the war.

Both came under assumed names, as they were among the Confederates who were at that time exempted from the amnesty.