three o'clock
The recent rains had hardened the roads , the bridges were repaired , and we were whirled rapidly forward , and , at one o'clock , reached Bucksville . There we met a cordial welcome , and remained to dinner . Our host pressed us to pass the night at his house , but the Colonel had business with one of his secession friends residing down the road -- my wayside acquaintance , Colonel A -- , and desired to stay overnight with him . At three o'clock , bidding a kindly farewell to Captain B -- and his excellent family , we were again on our way . The sun was just sinking among the western pines , when we turned into a broad avenue , lined with stately old trees , and rode up to the door-way of the rice-planter . It was a large , square , dingy old house , seated on a gentle knoll , a short half-mile from the river , along whose banks stretched the rice-fields . We entered , and were soon welcomed by its proprietor .