women-the women would work and liked to plow-behind the plows, while " Mose" and "Cephas " and "little Maria " and "Susan" "toted" water for the plow-people, and "trash-cleaners" and burners in the van.

"Old Uncle Bristol" still kept the ferry and worked in the carpenter shop, repairing plow frames or making new ones, while the kling-klang of the anvil at the blacksmith's shop kept him to his task; for the work of the blacksmith was crowding him.

Altogether it was "just smoking" on Tokeba. The mill could not supply the local demand for lumber, which we readily sold in town, delivered on the levee or to steamers that took it from the mill for customers at way landings on the Yazoo River, at prices ranging from thirty-five to eighty dollars per thousand feet, according to kind and quality. Neighbors from far and near passing Tokeba would rein in their horses, halt, take a look at things, and ride on evidently in a brown study. Having no leisure for entertaining them, "nor anything good to drink," we seldom invited them to alight-we were busy.

Mr. Moss, our partner from Illinois, was so well satisfied with the way things were going, that he returned home to look after his business there, leaving his interests entirely in our charge.

The merchants in Yazoo City, anxious for our custom, held out such inducements as led us to make our purchases of general supplies for the place and for our hands in that town, instead of sending abroad for them, and their orders on us for lumber for their other customers often exceeded our weekly bills with them for supplies for Tokeba. Ours was the only saw-mill in operation in that region, and for a time proved a real blessing to Yazoo City and the country round. about. We were not asking credit ourselves, being able to pay our way as we went, either with greenbacks, which were quite popular in Yazoo at the time of which I write, or with good cypress lumber, which was almost as popular as greenbacks.

*This was a violation of one of the ways of the country, but it was business.

Considering their misfortunes in the war and the unsettled condition of the country, it was quite natural that many men of property should not at all times have the money by them with which to pay for the lumber they wished to order from us, and as we intended to make our home in Yazoo we never hesitated to give credit to such persons. Thus we were able to confer favors upon individuals, as well as many benefits upon the community, and things looked rosy-hued enough to enable me to still further magnify the many virtues of my brother; his far-seeing business sagacity, particularly his push and grit.

The general health of the place was good, but as our force was a large one, there were all the time some sick, so we fell into so much of the ways of the country as made it fashionable to have a regular salaried physician. This gentleman was of the old school, a most honorable man and skillful doctor, who resided at Yazoo City and made regularly stated visits to the place.

Neither Charles nor myself used liquor of any kind, and would not have it on the place except as a medicine and when prescribed by our plantation physician. The doctor often advised us in all candor not to fail to take a stiff dram whenever we got out about our business of a morning before the sun had time to dispel the dews and poisonous vapors from the river. But as that would have necessitated our regular use of whisky, since we were out with the sun every morning, we refused to act upon his advice in that particular. Charles often declared that we enjoyed much better health and greater freedom from chills and fevers, than any of those in our neighborhood who drank liquors. I am quite sure he did, and the fact was observed by others; even our physician sort of half way admitted that we were better off without "the stuff" than with it. But it was customary in that locality to prescribe it as a tonic for the prevention of malarial poisoning. On the same theory, I suppose, that they prescribed whisky for the bite of a rattlesnake.

CHAPTER IX.

BLUSHES-MORE OF THE WAYS OF THE COUNTRY-A DEEPER DEEP THAN MORMONISM.

URING the winter and spring of 1866 nothing occurred to mar the entente cordiale which circumstances, aided by our saw-mill, had established between "those Yankees on Tokeba" and "our people." *

We were too much absorbed in our business to heed or care for what was passing in the political or social world. As yet there had appeared no social hostility toward any of our firm, and we mingled with our neighbors and with the town people with no feeling on our part that we were in any way specially objectionable persons. Not many of our acquaintances came to Tokeba, however; a fact we supposed to be due to our lack of leisure for entertaining them.

But there were persons who visited the place very often. It was some time before we learned their true character or their object. They were females. In complexion they ranged from pure Caucasian, so far as I could see, to mulattoes or brownskins. They were always neatly and sometimes quite tastefully dressed. Ostensibly they came to see old acquaintances among the force, and generally made some excuse to come to the "great house;" to talk with the people in the yard, beg a shrub or flower, or to seek information of "the Captain" or of "the Colonel." They sometimes made

From the day of my arrival in Yazoo to this date, summer of 1866, I had not heard the phrase "our people" used by the native whites in any other sense than one which embraced themselves alone. Neither freed people nor Yankees were meant to be included in it.

themselves quite conspicuous by passing the office as many as two or three times of an evening, and in other ways.

Our office was Colonel Black's old "study," and stood by itself in a clump of China trees, separated from the family residence, but in the same yard. No matter which of us happened to be in, these visitors were sure to stop and make some inquiry about their "old feller-servants," or some trifling matter. We always treated them kindly, sometimes placed chairs for them, and interrogated them about their hopes and prospects, now they were free.

One day when two of those women were sitting thus together, one of them boldly exclaimed:

66

Colonel, it 'pears to me yo' are a long time taking a

hint!"

Her speech was in every whit as good English as that of the average white lady there, and her manners equally refined and subdued. She was a very comely person, too. I have often wondered why I was so dull of comprehension. I had never suspected what their frequent visits meant. To me they were all freed people. All poor, all needy-needing land, money, clothes, bread, meat, no more than the dignity of selfrespect, which everywhere, in all times and with all peoples, has been the chief want of slaves. But yesterday they were all slaves, and I had not yet learned to discriminate, besides I had no other idea than that these people would look to the Yankees for light, as they had done for liberty, and while it was neither my business nor my inclination at that time to become their instructor, I could not so far humiliate and degrade myself as to fail of trying to be an example for them in my private life and habits. Perhaps, too, my bringing up had something to do with it. To be sure I had been through the war and had seen much of "the world" for a young man. The truth is, however, such a thing as was about to present itself had never before entered my thoughts. Therefore, I plainly asked her what she meant. She replied:

"Any one might know yo' are a Yankee."

Then the other:

"All de Yankees not dat 'er way." At which they both laughed. But this left me more in the dark than ever. Being disposed to pursue the inquiry, I said curiously:

"In what respect do Yankees differ so widely from Southerners?"

Then the "dark one

"Colonel, is yo' married?"
"No; and don't wish to be."
"Is de Captain, yo'r brother?"
"No."

"Is he youah own deah brother?"
"Yes."

"Doan yo' all fin' heap lonesome up y'here by yur own self?"

"Not at all lonesome-too busy."

My! Yo' Yankees nebber will hab no fun, t'wel yo' own dis yar whole blessed worl'! Yo' alwus so mighty busy an' peart."

"I like to work," I rejoined.

"Wuck! he! he! laws! Yo' doan wuck, I knows, Look at his han's, Liz."

And Lizzie-for that was the fair one's name

"And see his face! No mo' sunburnt than mine is, he! he he! Ain't he han'some!"

This was too much. I was not accustomed to that kind of fire, and couldn't face it. So, turning to my desk with some embarrassment, I resumed my work.

"He! Laws! See um blush!" ejaculated the "dark" one through her merry laughter.

But Lizzie got up at once, blushing herself, hung her head and walked away. The "dark" one followed. *

A few days after this incident, while at the "quarter" with medicines for the sick, an elderly woman who did not work in the field, the wife of one of our best hands, as I passed by, was standing in her cabin door. She beckoned to me and asked me to please come in. Thinking some one of

*I afterward learned that Lizzie was the concubine of a white merch ant in town, and the dark one of a neighboring planter.