The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-11-27

tions, among wind mills, corn and grass, beau
tiful fields and wild flowers, where the birds
poured out their songs and the shadows OF
the branches interlaced and made trembling
carpet on the road, while the overhanging
trees formed aisles and arches dimmed with
the softened light that crept through the
leaves.
And the old mansion, as the big white gates
swung open at the entrance of the broad, oak
lined avenue at the end Of which it stood,
how inviting it looked Dorothy and Marge-
~ were waiting on the porch, and such
warm Virginia welcome as they gave to their
handsome niecel
1t did not take Kate long to find herself
the queen and fairy Of that household, with
subjects, both white and black, for whom
she had nothing but love- True, her
kingdom at first looked prim, but In a lit
tie while every object had in her eyes &C
auired golden tint. The dear old aunts in
their ruff1ed caps, immaculate aprons and
crossed neckerchiefs, seemed like ancient bits
of history that had stepped out from their
ancestral portrait gallery to make themselves
agreeable. Perfect harmony reigned be-
tween the place and its occupants. Every
thing seemed to belong to the same age, and
that past age Not an object had the vul'
garity Of newness about it. Stiff, high
backed rockers confronted one another from
each side Of the old fashioned broad chin
ney, on the hearth of which stood the heavy
brass andirons polished to mirror like bright
ness that had kept watch and ward for gen.
erations, and it seemed sacrilege to<dlsturb
their position. Bolt upright against the wall,
with its full moon face and perpetual COO
COO, was the grandfather's clock, and among
the traditions was one that the coo-coo never
had failed to announce the time, save once
the day when Col. Bainbridge was killed in
the valley.
The household preserved much of its ante
bellum characteristics, and to Kate these
were also strange. The family servants had
grown old in their duties. Daddy Hercules,
the coachman, and Silas, the butler, had
heads as white as cotton. Aunt Dilsey, the
cook, was the tyrant of the place, allow
ing little interference from the white
folks" and no familiarity from "dem sleepy
headed niggers dat warn't no count no how,
'cept in de con fell" With all her peculiari'
ties, she was thoroughly respectful, and as
tenacious of the rights Of her old mistresses
as ''in de days when wuz er slim nigger an
wuz ole miss's boldly servant an Miss Madg'-
ry's nuss." Jerry, her grandson, whose mis-
sion it was to keep the wood pile well stocked
came in for q large share of Aunt Dilsey's
maternal attention, especially when "de
light'ood knots gin out, )" and his life was any
thing but happy lot, for then "ole nam
N.Y." as he called her, made things lively fol
him.
Take it all in all, Beverly was home amid
whose quiet Kate began to feel she could be
happy for the remainder Of her life. She
might not have been able to add toits beauty
but she infused into it the brightness of heI
fresh, young nature Her songs mingled with
those of the birds, and the influence Of hel
CHEEKY presence pervaded every nook and
Granny on the place, from the solemn OLD
parlors in the big house to thequarters of the
yard folks, where she romped with the pic
caninnies or listened to the ghost stories OF
Nanny Angeliner.
After making herself acquainted with al
the home surroundings, Kate started out one
day on q journey Of exploration through the
neighboring country. And this is part Of
the story that may best be told in her owr
words, for it is as she wrote it in letter to 6
New York friend, and it more or less con
Germs her fate: