"Yes, bein' as ye's a friend o' the ole man, and I hain't had 'em only four days."

I sat down on the bench beside the little girl, and taking her small hand in mine, and playing with her fingers in a careless way, said: "Well, I will give you a hundred profit; but, Larkin," and I looked him directly in the eye, and smiled, "you can't intend to come the Yankee over me! I am one of them myself, you know, and understand such things. These people cost you twelve hundred-not a dime more.

“The h―ll they did! P'raps ye mean ter say I lie?" he replied, in an excited tone, his face reddening with anger. "No, I don't. I merely state a fact, and you know it. So keep cool."

"It's a d-d lie, sir; I doan't keer who says it," he exclaimed, now really excited.

"Come, come, my fine fellow," I said, rising, and facing him; "skip the hard words, and don't get up too much steam; it might damage you, or your friends.”

This was

"What d'ye mean? Speak out, Mr. Kirke. Ef ye doan't want ter buy 'em, say so, and hev done with it." said in a more moderate tone. He had evidently taken my meaning, and feared he had gone too far.

"I mean simply this: This woman and the children cost you twelve hundred dollars four days ago. Preston wants them—must have them—and he will give thirteen hundred for them, and pay you in a year, with interest; that's all.”

"Wall, come now, Mr. Kirke, thet's liberal, arn't it! S'pose I doan't take it, what then?"

"Then Roye, Struthers & Co. will stop your supplies, or I'll stop their's-that's 'SARTIN,'" and I laughed goodhumoredly as I said it.

66

'Wall, ye're one on 'em, Mr. Kirke, thet's a fact;" and then he added, seriously, "but ye karn't mean ter saddle my doin's onter them?"

“Yes, I will; and tell them they have you to thank for it.” “What”—and he struck his forehead with his hand— "what a dangnation fool I wus ter tell ye 'bout them!"

"Of course you were; and a greater one to say you paid sixteen fifty for the property. I'd have given fifteen hundred for them, if you had told the truth. But come, what do you say; are they Preston's, or not?"

"No, I karn't do it; karn't take Preston's note-'tain't wuth a hill o' beans. Give me the money, and it's a trade." "Preston is cramped, and cannot pay the money now. give you my note, if you prefer it.”

"Payable in York, interest and exchange?"
"Yes."

"Well, it's done. And now, d-n the nigs. buy ary nother good-lookin' 'un as long's I live."

"I hope you won't," I replied, laughing.

I'll

I'll never

He then produced a blank note and a bill of sale, and draw

ing from his pocket a pen and a small ink bottle, said to me:

แ

'Thar, Mr. Kirke, ye fill up the note, and I'll make out the bill o' sale. I'm handy at sech doin's."

"Give me the key of these bracelets first. Make out the bill to Preston-Robert Preston, of Jones County."

He handed me the key, and I unlocked the shackles. "Now, Phyllis," I said, "it is over. Go and tell Master Robert."

She rose, threw her arms wildly above her head, and, staggering weakly forward, without saying a word, left the cabin.

Yelping and leaping with joy, the yellow boy followed her; but the little girl came to me, and, looking up timidly in my face, said: "Oh! massa, Rosey so glad 'ou got mammyRosey so glad. Rosey lub 'ou, massa-Rosey lub 'ou a heap." I thought of a little girl I had left at home, and, with a sudden impulse, lifted the child from the floor and kissed her. She put her small arms about my neck, laid her soft cheek against mine, and burst into tears.

I filled out the note, and gave it to the trader; and, with the bill of sale in my hand, was about to go in search of Preston, when he and Phyllis entered the cabin. I handed him the document, and, glancing over it, he placed it in his pocket book.

"Now, Larkin," I said, "this is a wretched business. Give it up; there's too much of the man in you for this sort of thing."

"Wall, p'raps ye're right, Mr. Kirke; but I'm in it, and I karn't git out. But it seems ter me 'tain't no wuss dealin' in 'em, than ownin' 'em."

"I don't know. Is it not a little worse on the man himself? Does it not sort of harden you-blunt your better feelings-to be always buying and selling people that do not want to be bought and sold?"

"Wall, p'raps it do; it's a cussed business, onyhow. But thar's my hand, Mr. Kirke. Ye're a gintleman, I swar, ef ye hev come it over me. Ha ha! How slick you done it! I likes ye the better fur it; and ef Jake Larkin kin ever do ye a good turn, he'll do it. I allers takes ter a man thet's smarter nor I ar, I does;" and he gave my hand another powerful shake.

"I thank you, Larkin; and if I can ever serve you, it will give me great pleasure to do so."

"I doan't doubt it, Mr. Kirke, I doan't; and I'll call on ye, shore, ef ye kin ever do me ony good. Good-by; ye want ter be with the Squire; good-by;" and he left the cabin.

Which was the worse that coarse, hardened man, or the institution which had made him what he was?

Many years afterward the trader and I met again; and then he kept his word.

CHAPTER VI.

ON THE ROAD.

Ir was nine o'clock at night, when the stage halted before, the door of that purgatory for Southern pilgrims, the "Washington House," Newbern.

the box, Preston said to me:

As we dismounted from

"You order supper and a room, while I attend to Phyllis and the children. I'll join you presently."

Seeing that our luggage was safely deposited on the piazza, I entered the hotel in quest of the landlord. The "office" was a long, low, dingy apartment, with tobaccostained floor, blackened ceiling, and greasy, brown walls, ornamented here and there with advertisements of runaway slaves, auction notices of "mules, negroes, and other property," a few dusty maps, and a number of unframed wood-cuts of prominent political characters. Among the latter, Calhoun, in bristling hair, cadaverous face, and high shirt collar, looked "the unkindest cut of all." Behind the bar, which extended across the farther end of the room, was drawn up a whole regiment of glass decanters, and stout black bottles, full of spirit, and ready for active service. A generous wood fire roared and crackled on a broad hearthstone, and in a semicircle around it, in every conceivable attitude, were gathered about twenty