In the evening Mr. ——­, who had been over to Darien, mentioned that one of the storekeepers there had told him that, in the course of a few years, he had paid the negroes of this estate several thousand dollars for moss, which is a very profitable article of traffic with them—­they collect it from the trees, dry and pick it, and then sell it to the people in Darien for mattresses, sofas, and all sorts of stuffing purposes,—­which, in my opinion, it answers better than any other material whatever that I am acquainted with, being as light as horse hair, as springy and elastic, and a great deal less harsh and rigid.  It is now bed-time, dear E——­, and I doubt not it has been sleepy time with you over this letter, long ere you came thus far.  There is a preliminary to my repose, however, in this agreeable residence, which I rather dread, namely, the hunting for, or discovering without hunting, in fine relief upon the white-washed walls of my bed-room, a most hideous and detestable species of reptile, called centipedes, which come out of the cracks and crevices of the walls, and fill my very heart with dismay.  They are from an inch to two inches long, and appear to have not a hundred, but a thousand legs.  I cannot ascertain very certainly from the negroes whether they sting or not, but they look exceedingly as if they might, and I visit my babies every night, in fear and tremblings lest I should find one or more of these hateful creatures mounting guard over them.  Good night; you are well to be free from centipedes—­better to be free from slaves.

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Dear E——.  This morning I paid my second visit to the infirmary, and found there had been some faint attempt at sweeping and cleaning, in compliance with my entreaties.  The poor woman Harriet, however, whose statement, with regard to the impossibility of their attending properly to their children, had been so vehemently denied by the overseer, was crying bitterly.  I asked her what ailed her, when, more by signs and dumb show than words, she and old Rose informed me that Mr. O——­ had flogged her that morning, for having told me that the women had not time to keep their children clean.  It is part of the regular duty of every overseer to visit the infirmary at least once a day, which he generally does in the morning, and Mr. O——­’s visit had preceded mine but a short time only, or I might have been edified by seeing a man horsewhip a woman.  I again and again made her repeat her story, and she again and again affirmed that she had been flogged for what she told me, none of the whole company in the room denying it, or contradicting her.  I left the room, because I was so disgusted and indignant, that I could hardly restrain my feelings, and to express them could have produced no single good result.  In the next ward, stretched upon the ground, apparently either asleep or so overcome with sickness as to be incapable of moving, lay an immense woman,—­her