You May Imagine Me The

Disaffection Stalks Around Us.

It Is One Of My Sources Of Happiness Never To Desire A Knowledge Of Other People's Business.

And Now, Dear Sister, I Must Leave This House Or The Retreating Army Will Make Me A Prisoner In It By Filling Up The Road I Am Directed To Take.

Our Private Property Must Be Sacrificed.

Two Messengers Covered With Dust Come To Bid Me Fly, But I Wait For Him.