Savannah, and his headquarters are still pointed out, opposite Madison Square. Savannah has a fine pleasure-ground in Forsyth Park, with its wealth of trees and ornamental shrubbery, and the adjoining Parade Ground containing the Confederate Soldiers' Monument. The favorite route to the southern suburbs is the famous Thunderbolt Shell Road leading to Thunderbolt River, and noted for its avenues of live oaks draped with Spanish moss. Here is also the favorite burial-place, the Bonaventure Cemetery, where the graves and tombstones are laid out alongside passages embowered by live oaks, their wide-stretching, gaunt and angular limbs being richly garlanded with the gray moss and encircled by creeping ivy. The long vista views under these sombre archways have an elfish look, peculiarly appropriate for a city of the dead, and it would take little imagination to conjure up the spirits of the departed and see them wandering beneath these canopies of shrouds. THE CITY OF JACKSONVILLE. Southward from Savannah, the railway route to Florida renews the monotonous landscape of woods and swamps. For ninety miles it goes in an almost straight line southwest through the pine belt of Southern Georgia, crossing the Ogeechee and Altamaha Rivers to Waycross, and then, turning to the southeast, proceeds in another almost straight line for about an equal distance towards the coast, and crosses St. Mary's River into Florida. It traverses the edge of the noted Okifenokee Swamp of Georgia, the Indian "weaving, shaking, water," a moist and mushy region of mystery and legend, drained by the poetic Suwanee, the Indian "Echo river," which has been made the theme of a favorite melody. This stream flows through Florida into the Gulf of Mexico, while on the eastern side the extensive swamp overflows into the winding St. Mary's River leading to the Atlantic. To the southward, the pine woods of Florida grow out of a sandy soil nearly as level as a floor, in which almost every depression and fissure seems filled with water, and the balsamic odors of these pines, combined with the mildness of the winter climate, give an indication of the attractions which make Florida so popular as a resort for the Northern people. The route finally reaches the broad St. John's River at the Florida metropolis, Jacksonville, a Yankee city in the South, bearing the name of the famous President, General Andrew Jackson, and having thirty thousand population, largely of Northern birth. This is the centre of the railway system of Florida and of most of the business of the State, having a large export trade in timber, naval stores, phosphates, oranges and other Florida products. To the visitor, probably the first most forcible impression is made by the free growth of oranges along the streets and in the house gardens. The city stands upon the northern and outer bank of a magnificent bend of St. John's River, this noble stream, which flows northward from