Among the Pines Part 14

"P'raps that's so. But I think a man sh'u'd hev a soul suthin' 'bove dollars. Them folks will take any sort o' sarce from the Yankees, ef they'll only buy thar truck."

"What do you suffer from the Yankees?"

"Suffer from the Yankees? Don't they steal our n.i.g.g.e.rs, and haint they 'lected an ab'lishener for President?"

"I've been at the North lately, but I am not aware that is so."

"So! it's d.a.m.nably so, sir. I knows it. We don't mean to stand it eny longer."

"What will you do?"

"We'll give 'em h--l, ef they want it!"

"Will it not be necessary to agree among yourselves before you do that?

I met a turpentine farmer below here who openly declared that he is friendly to abolishing slavery. He thinks the masters can make more money by hiring than by owning the negroes."

"Yes, that's the talk of them North County[D] fellers, who've squatted round har. We'll hang every mother's son on 'em, by ----."

"I wouldn't do that: in a free country every man has a right to his opinions."

"Not to sech opinions as them. A man may think, but he mustn't think onraasonable."

"I don't know, but it seems to me reasonable, that if the negroes cost these farmers now one hundred and fifty dollars a year, and they could hire them, if free, for seventy-five or a hundred, that they would make by abolition."

"Ab'lish'n! By--, sir, ye aint an ab'lishener, is ye?" exclaimed the fellow, in an excited manner, bringing his hand down on the table in a way that set the crockery a-dancing.

"Come, come, my friend," I replied, in a mild tone, and as unruffled as a pool of water that has been out of a December night; "you'll knock off the dinner things, and I'm not quite through."

"Wal, sir, I've heerd yer from the North, and I'd like to know if yer an ab'lishener."

"My dear sir, you surprise me. You certainly can't expect a modest man like me to speak of himself."

"Ye can speak of what ye d-- please, but ye can't talk ab'lish'n har, by--," he said, again applying his hand to the table, till the plates and saucers jumped up, performed several jigs, then several reels, and then rolled over in graceful somersaults to the floor.

At this juncture, the Colonel and Madam P---- entered.

Observing the fall in his crockery, and the general confusion of things, my host quietly asked, "What's to pay?"

I said nothing, but burst into a fit of laughter at the awkward predicament of the overseer. That gentleman also said nothing, but looked as if he would like to find vent through a rat-hole or a window-pane. Jim, however, who stood at the back of my chair, gave _his_ eloquent thoughts utterance, very much as follows:

"Moye hab 'sulted Ma.s.sa K----, Cunnel, awful bad. He hab swore a blue streak at him, and called him a d-- ab'lishener, jess 'cause Ma.s.sa K---- wudn't get mad and sa.s.s him back. He hab disgrace your hosspital, Cunnel, wuss dan a n.i.g.g.a."

The Colonel turned white with rage, and striding up to Moye, seized him by the throat, yelling, rather than speaking, these words: "You d---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----, have you dared to insult a guest in my house?"

"I did'nt mean to 'sult him," faltered out the overseer, his voice running through an entire octave, and changing with the varying pressure of the Colonel's fingers on his throat; "but he said he war an ab'lishener."

"No matter what he said, he is my guest, and in my house he shall say what he pleases, by--. Apologize to him, or I'll send you to h--in a second."

The fellow turned cringingly to me, and ground out something like this, every word seeming to give him the face-ache:

"I meant no offence, sar; I hope ye'll excuse me."

This satisfied me, but, before I could reply, the Colonel again seized him by the throat and yelled:

"None of your sulkiness; you d-- white-livered hound, ask the gentleman's pardon like a man."

The fellow then got out, with less effort than before:

"I 'umbly ax yer pardon, sar, very 'umbly, indeed."

"I am satisfied, sir," I replied. "I bear you no ill-will."

"Now go," said the Colonel; "and in future take your meals in your cabin. I have none but gentlemen at my table."

The fellow went. As soon as he closed the door, the Colonel said to me:

"Now, my dear friend, I hope you will pardon _me_ for this occurrence. I sincerely regret you have been insulted in my house."

"Don't speak of it, my dear sir; the fellow is ignorant, and really thinks I am an abolitionist. His zeal in politics led to his warmth. I blame him very little," I replied.

"But he lied, Ma.s.sa K----," chimed in Jim, very warmly; "you neber said you war an ab'lishener."

"You know what _they_ are, Jim, don't you?" said the Colonel, laughing, and taking no notice of his breach of decorum in wedging black ideas into a white conversation.

"Yas, I does dat," said the darky, grinning.

"Jim," said his master, "you're a prince of a n.i.g.g.e.r, but you talk too much; ask me for something to-day, and I reckon you'll get it; but go now, and tell Chloe (the cook) to get us some dinner."

The negro left, and, excusing myself, I soon followed suit.

I went to my room, laid down on the lounge, and soon fell asleep. It was nearly five o'clock when a slight noise in the apartment awoke me, and, looking up, I saw the Colonel quietly seated by the fire, smoking a cigar. His feet were elevated above his head, and he appeared absorbed in no very pleasant reflections.

"How is the sick boy, Colonel?" I asked.

"It's all over with him, my friend. He died easy; but 'twas very painful to me; I feel I have done him wrong."

"How so?"

"I was away all summer, and that cursed Moye sent him to the swamp to tote for the shinglers. It killed him."

"Then you are not to blame," I replied.

"I wish I could feel so."

The Colonel remained with me till supper-time, evidently much depressed by the events of the morning, which had affected him more than I should have thought possible. I endeavored, by directing his mind to other topics, to cheer him, and in a measure succeeded.

While we were seated at the supper table, the black cook entered from the kitchen--a one-story shanty, detached from, and in the rear of the house--and, with a face expressive of every conceivable emotion a negro can feel--joy, sorrow, wonder, and fear all combined--exclaimed, "O ma.s.sa, ma.s.sa! dear ma.s.sa! Sam, O Sam!"

"Sam!" said the Colonel; "what about Sam?"