One evening early in September my sister was better and a friend of mine (whose house we faced in their rear) begged me to come to tea. I went over at dusk, and with her and another guest were enjoying a cup of real tea and a bit of toast--quite a feast, when there was a tremendous explosion apparently just at hand. We all sat quiet, tea cups in hand. The negro boy rushed in, rolling his eyes, with the announcement that the opposite house in Aiken's row was struck, and they were moving out. The lady and her daughter were both ill with fever, and both died shortly in consequence of the fright and removal. In quick succession several houses in Aiken's row were struck. As I look back now it seems strange to me that we all sat quietly in the drawing-room waiting our turn to be hit. The man servant returning at intervals to report that another of the houses was hit. I welcomed my father, when at nine, he came for me. Nothing ever overcame his sense of humor. He brought a large cotton umbrella, which, he said, he had brought to please my mother, as a shell might spare its hideousness. When I got home I found my mother and sister anxiously awaiting me. I had a little cot in a corner of my sister's room, and my mother, being anxious, lay on the bed by her. I went to bed and was soon asleep, the shelling apparently having ceased, but they had only paused to try a new gun. The first shells always going farthest, I was awakened by the horrible familiar hiss and plaster and glass falling over me. The shell cut the corner of the house and passed so near me that the glasses of the window near by my bed were broken, and the plastering above fell on me. The monster buried itself in our yard, making a horrible deep pit, but not exploding. A few more inches and I would have been buried with it. It shows how accustomed we were to shocks that I do not remember feeling any terror, but remarked quietly in the dark to my mother, "I think we are hit." To my astonishment she broke forth in ejaculations of thanksgiving. The noise and crash had been so great she thought the side of the room with me in it had been taken away. That was the longest range shell that fell in Charleston. In a few days we went to the up-country to be with friends, and then last week came down to Otranto, where we are now. * * * * * OTRANTO, January 15, 1865.