Sumter, S. C.,
Nov. 11, 1867

My dear Fuller:

We are having a warm spell again--that is we only have a fire nights and mornings, and during the day find muslin dresses quite comfortable. The trees are fast turning brown and remind one of Keble's beautiful lines which I should like to copy for you if I had the book here, for they are very much better worth reading them than anything I shall be likely to write. I remember one stanza,--here it is:

"How like decaying life they seem to glide!
And yet no future spring have they in store;
But where they fall,, forgotten to abide
Is all their portion: and they ask no more."

I never see a brown leaf fluttering down without thinking of those lines. It gives them a claim upon my tenderness somehow. The leaves here this fall have very little brilliancy for some reason to me unknown. Usually they are as brilliant here as at the North. The gum-trees like your sugar maples, take on almost every tinge. The variety is even greater, since the darkest are almost black, and they are all so glossy that the sunshine produces upon them the most brilliant effect. But this year there is nothing of that--at least not here. I don't know how it may be down on the coast where I have been the last two falls.

My destiny is still unsettled. I think one week that I shall certainly stay here, and the next that I shall as certainly go somewhere else. The teachers here would gladly get rid of me, so that they can have their own little Methodist family all to themselves. Oh how narrow-minded and--I don't know what, only something disagreeable people can be when they try! I wish they could see themselves. Now if you want to send me a lecture upon the more and the beam, I am all ready to hear it, and am ready to own that I deserve it. Pass we to pleasanter themes.

I have told you, have I not? of the soldiers here, and especially of the officers--Lieuts. Graham and Hoffman. They (he Lieut.s) have called upon us quite often and have proved very pleasant acquaintances. Lieut Hoffman especially is a very fine singer, and I have enjoyed very much singing with him, and expected to enjoy a great deal more. But Saturday orders came for them to go directly to Washington, and other troops--artillery--are coming here. If I were going to remain I should regret the change very much indeed, as I had just become used to these. But if I go away I shall not so much care.

Our election comes off next week. I shall be glad when it is fairly over, and we get going again. I do so hope for a Republican victory, and yet the chances are only about even, taking all tings into consideration. Our candidates for Convention here are F. J. Moses Jr. representation of one of the first families in the state, an Irishman, a colored Northerner, and a young man who was formerly F. J. Moses's slave. Is not that a fair representative ticket? Mr. Whittemore is one of the candidates from Darlington district, and (if there is a convention at all) will no doubt be elected, for his name is a tower of strength among the freedmen. In Charleston they have four white and five colored men upon the ticket. One of the whites is Mr. Gilbert Pillsbury, brother to Parker. Will it not be funny--grand comical--I can't think of the exact word--to send a parcel of Massachusetts Abolitionists to the Constitutional Convention in South Carolina. Just think of it! Parker Pillsbury's brother making laws for South Carolinians! Oh, we can hardly conceive the bitterness of this pill.

You will have been looking in vain for any letter for the past day or two. I was so tired every day last week that I couldn't feel like writing. I don't feel much like it now, only my entire family have a fit of the sullens, and won't respond to any witty remarks. Consequence of my obstinacy in persisting in my right to keep the advanced grade in my school today. Good night. Love to Mrs Fisk.

Truly yours,

Jennie B. Smith