I was glad to hear that your aunt Lynn, had treated you with the utmost affection and kindness, and surprised that you have found any difficulty in returning your visits. What has become of Cochran's fine carriage and horses? Had I supposed you would have had any trouble in getting about I should have ordered my horses and carriage to remain in Charlottesville during your visit. Tell Cochran he must provide a way for you to return your visits in the town and at the University. You speak in your letter regretfully of your short stay, but it can't be helped owing to the late period of the year. I am apprehensive of a change in the weather and wish you to return. But an accidental circumstance will prolong your visit for a few days. It is this. John Baldwin[20] goes to Charlottesville tomorrow week to attend court. He will remain only two days and will take charge of you and fetch you back in the stage coach. [20] The late distinguished Col. John B. Baldwin, who married Mr. Peyton's eldest daughter Susan. Col. Baldwin was Colonel of the 52nd Regiment during the Civil war and member of the Confederate Congress, and was a man of eminent ability. My health is very much what it was when you left. I received a present yesterday of a saddle of venison weighing 40 pounds from Mr. Callaghan. I intended having it cooked to-day and wish you were here to partake of it. A young gentleman by the name of Holcombe, from Lynchburg, who brought John a letter of introduction from Mr. Charles L. Mosby, will dine with us.[21] [21] NOTE.--Wm. H. Holcombe, physician and Swedenborgian writer--a brother of James P. Holcombe--and the author of "Our Children in Heaven," "The other life," etc., etc. Why has Mary not written me? Remember me to Cochran, Lynn and the children and to Louisa Coleman. I am, your affectionate father, JOHN H. PEYTON. To this letter the following P. S. is appended: _My Dear Sisters_: As father was too feeble to write you a longer letter, he requested me to add a few lines in order to give you the Staunton news. I proceed to do so briefly and hurriedly. Since you left, the town has been more lively than usual. One of the excitements has been a flock of wild pigeons--millions of them--which rested 24 hours in the neighborhood, and afforded the sportsmen rare fun. Thousands have been killed, and as much powder and shot used as if we had been repelling a Mexican invasion.