‘You well remember your first visit to the South, I dare say. You
cannot have forgotten many incidents that occurred at a little village
of North Carolina, called Warrenton? No, there is _one_ circumstance I
feel assured you never can forget while memory lasts, and there are
others to which I claim the right to call your attention: for instance,
do you remember your first meeting with a certain Miss Cheney at the
house of Squire Bragg, the father of Capt. Bragg, who lately
distinguished himself at Monterey and Buena Vista? Do you now remember
to whom you related the secret of your visit, who procured the parson,
and what persons accompanied you to church, and then with your
beautiful bride returned to breakfast? We saw you take the solemn
vows, we witnessed the plighted betrothal, and when you bore away from
us this prize, you also carried our best wishes that you might be ever
blessed, and she be made always happy. May it not have been otherwise.’

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