Feb. 21, Tuesday
A letter from Mecca Joyner, saying she is coming to make me a visit, and I must meet her in Albany on Wednesday. Just as I had finished reading it a buggy drove up with Flora Maxwell and Capt. Rust, from Gopher Hill. Flora has a great reputation for beauty, but I think her even more fascinating and elegant than beautiful. Capt. Rust is an exile from Delaware, and a very nice old gentleman, whom the Maxwells think a great deal of. He was banished for helping Southern prisoners to escape across the lines. He tells me that he sometimes had as many as fourteen rebels concealed in his house at one time.
Albert Bacon called after tea and told us all about the Hobbs poetry, and teased me a good deal at first by pretending that Capt. Hobbs was very angry. He says everybody is talking about it and asking for copies. I had no idea of making such a stir by my little joke. Metta and I were invited to spend this week at Stokes Walton's, but company at home prevented. We are going to have a picnic at the Henry Bacons' lake on Thursday, and the week after we expect to begin our journey home in good earnest. Sister is going to visit Brother Troup in Macon at the same time, and a large party from Albany will go that far with us. I have so much company and so much running about to do that I can't find time for anything else. I have scribbled this off while waiting for breakfast.
The Captain Rust mentioned I think would be Catesby Fleet Rust (1819-1894) before and after the war a farmer of Seaford, Delaware. Since the diary entry says he was an older gentlemen, Catesby Rust would fit the description better than Charles Palmer Rust who also left Delaware to join the Confederate forces.
Catesby Fleet Rust was the son of John Rust and Priscilla Laws Rust. Catesby was married to Anne Eliz Palmer in 1840. Their son was Charles Palmer Rust.
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