becomes Passie.  Moreover, where these diminutives have been passed down for several generations in a family, their origin is sometimes lost sight of, and the diminutive becomes the actual baptismal name.  In one family of my acquaintance, for example, the name Passie has long been handed down from mother to daughter.  The original great-grandmother Passie was christened Martha but was at first called Patsy; then, because her black mammy was also named Patsy, the daughter of the house came to be known, for purposes of differentiation, as Passie, and when she married and had a daughter of her own, the child was christened Passie.  In this family the name May has more recently been adopted as a middle name, and it is customary for familiars of the youngest Passie, to address her not merely as Passie, but as Passie-May.  The inclusion of the second name, in this fashion, is another custom not uncommon in the South.  In Atlanta alone I heard of ladies habitually referred to as Anna-Laura, Hattie-May, Lollie-Belle, Sally-Maud, Nora-Belle, Mattie-Sue, Emma-Belle, Lottie-Belle, Susie-May, Lula-Belle, Sallie-Fannie, Hattie-Fannie, Lou-Ellen, Allie-Lou, Clara-Belle, Mary-Ella, and Hattie-Belle.  Another young lady was known to her friends as Jennie-D.

The train from Atlanta set us down at Covington, Georgia, or rather at the station which lies between the towns of Covington and Oxford—­for when this railroad was built neither town would allow it a right of way, and to this day each is connected with the station by a street car line, either line equipped with one diminutive car, a pair of disconsolate mules, and a driver.  Covington is the County seat, a quiet southern town, part old, part new, with a look of rural prosperity about it.  Stopping at the postoffice to inquire for mail we saw this peremptory sign displayed: 

     When the window is down don’t bang around and ask for a stamp or
     two.

     —­J.L.  CALLAWAY, Postmaster.

As the window was down we tiptoed out and went upon our way, driving through Oxford before going to the plantation.  This town was named for Oxford, England, and is, like its namesake, a college town.  A small and very old Methodist educational institution, with a pretty though ragged campus and fine trees, is all there is to Oxford, save a row of ante-bellum houses.  One of them, a pleasant white mansion, half concealed by the huge magnolias which stand in its front yard, was at one time the residence of General Longstreet.  The old front gate, hanging on a stone post, was made by the general with his own hands—­and well made, for it is to-day as good a gate as ever.  Corra Harris lived at one time in Oxford; her husband, Rev. Lundy H. Harris, having been a professor at the college.

* * * * *