Caliway for dinner, as above stated; ate with a lady, and the tableware consisted of tin, altogether, save one stone pitcher. The fare consisted of sweet milk, stewed beef and corn bread. The family was made up of the Madam and six or seven little urchins, as black and dirty as any one ever saw; and several times while we were eating, they would catch the top of the above described pitcher, and tilt it to see if the milk would hold out; but with all, I enjoyed my dinner, as I was hungry, and it seemed freely given, I speak of the tableware and fare, not in any fun making way, for there were thousands of good people, who had to live in that kind of style in those days.

If the rising generation were called to such a meal, as many of their parents have had to sit down to, they would have something to laugh about for months to come.

After dinner, I resumed my journey for home, at a quickened step, passed by Mr. Hogan's, with whom I was very well acquainted, and who afterwards became my father-in-law; but did not make any halt, passed through Simpsonville about 3:00 or 4:00 o'clock; arrived at my comrades' Mr. Steed's about dusk, within three miles of home. He called me by for supper, after which, he caught his horses and carried me home, I arrived home, a couple of hours in the night, after a trip of forty-two or forth-three [sic] miles that day.

* * * * * * *
[Epilogue by Dorothy Annie Porter Tittle, circa 1920]

This is all that my father, J. C. Porter ever wrote of his autobiography, and I feel, as I am his oldest child, that I want to take up where he left off, and say something, as best I can, of his exemplary life, for he was worthy of it.

When he returned from the war, he was the only support that his widowed mother and five sisters had, as the war had set the servant, Dock, free, though he stayed for several years, and rented land from them, and was a great help, as he was strictly honest, and he had always been a good and willing servant.

My father was real anxious for a good education, sometime that year, I think it was, he started to school, but soon realized that he had such a burden on his young shoulders, that he had no time to go to school, so he told his youngest sister Cora, that if she would go to school, he would put on her what he intended to put on himself. She accepted, and he sent her several years, besides sending the next younger a good deal -- both made teachers, and afterwards supported their families by teaching as they were left widows.

He baffled along and supported all, until two of his sisters married, Caroline and Sue. The oldest one, Elizabeth, having married before the war. She married James Hogan, and Caroline married James Smith. Sue