The country we drove through at the upper end of Woodberry Township had suffered severely from the floods, and the crops were an almost total loss. We went as far as the road was open until we struck a point, beyond which all the bridges had been washed away. Woodberry Township forms a peninsula between the two rivers already spoken of. Fortunately it is very thinly settled, and most of the farmers have their homes on the comparatively high land in the center of the township. Mr. Fontaine Davis said that he had only heard of five families in the section below that which we visited who had suffered to any serious extent. We talked with an old man, who for 43 years had lived on his farm in the upper part of Woodberry Township. “I ain’t never saw anything like it before,” he said, “and I don’t know how to figure it out. The waters was five feet higher than they was in the Sherman ‘fresh’ of ’65.” He said that within a radius of three or four miles there were eight or ten white families, and ten or twelve colored families: all of whom had lost practically their entire crop. He, himself, had lost all of his corn, most of cotton, and nearly all of his live stock. Mr. Richardson, whom we next interviewed, a man who owned 80 acres of land, 27 in corn, 35 in cotton, the rest in pasture, garden, etc., had lost everything. The cotton had been an exceptionally good crop, and would have made a bale to the acre at the market price of about $40.00 a bale; this alone meant a money loss of $1,400.00. The corn upon which he depended for food for his family and stock was also gone, and, as he put it, “I don’t know what we are going to do for something to eat this winter.” The next house we passed was a deserted little negro cabin whose wrecked chimney bore witness of the violence of the flood. This had been the home of an honest, hard-working colored man, who, with his family of five children, lived on the little rented patch of about 20 acres. His nine acres of corn would have fed his family and his animals. His seven acres of cotton would have yielded about three bales, which would have given him $120.00 as the cash proceeds of his year’s labor. With this he would have paid off his store bill of $50.00; $20.00 would have gone for rent, and after making a payment upon the horse he had just purchased, the husbandman would have had a small cash balance to see him through to next crop time. Now corn and cotton are both swept away; there is no money to settle the store bill, nor pay for the horse, and there is no food for the family to subsist on through the long winter months.