The midland journal., 1899-03-10

as though my life had been passed In
Siberia. Here is my south-right here
among these people who raise bale
of cotton to the acre, and care for theil
niggers as no white man at the north
could be coaxed or driven to do. well
here we are, at the edge of the cotton
fields Take look there!''
looked, and saw the sight that
had already seen a dozen times at O
distance on my way down the river
Hundreds of acres bursting into the
snowy bloom of the cotton; mimic
snowstorm, with the contrast of deer
green foliage all about it, and azure
skies and unclouded sun above it.
The sight was one to remember for q
lifetime.
Under the shade of broad-armed
oak at the border of the fields Mr.
Dorion sat down and famed himself
with his hat
''See here, my boy" he said, "I've
got something to say to you. want
to talk to you like father. Sit down
there and hear me-"
complied.
you were no more to me or to my fam.
lily than any other traveller from the
north would be. You have been with
us but little while, and, I'm free to
say, you have grown on us. You are
lad of sense and spirit; like you.
My wife told me this morning that she
hoped could keep you here awhile.
Now, don't you be too much flattered,
my lad. My wife is sensible woman;
she knows that two of our daughters
are engaged to be married, and that
the other is likely to be, very soon. |
don't expect any danger from you in
that quarter. But my oversccr is get,
ting cranky; he is northern man, and
he don't use the field hands just as
would like. The idea has been pass
ing through my mind all night that |
would like to keep you with me, and
learn you all about the plantation and
the hands. Then, in few months,
can dismiss the overseer and put you
in his place. You are northern born;
but feel as if you would be sue
cess in that place. What do you say?'
felt tempted. I hesitated, and
knew not what to say. Then replied:
You overpower me with your offer,
Mr.. Dorion. If it were not for my duty
to Mr.. Bostock-"
He snatched me up impatiently:
"Your duty to Bostoc!l? You owe
him none. Let me warn you not to
sacrifice your prospects to a mere SEN
timent The man that you think you
owe some obligation to is q changed,
cmbittcrcd man. Do not think that
he will receive you with the cordiality
that he showed you ten years ago in
your northern home. lie may not
know you at all. don't know what
manner of reception he will give you.
Have you thought of this?"
| was silent. He was encouraged by
my silence, and went on:
"And think, for a moment, what you
are exposing yourself to! You are seek
ing to link your fortunes to those of a
man who has clouded his life. He has
alienated all the friends that he made
here. There is fearful mystery hang
ing over his past life. do not know
you do not know-how you may be-
come complicated with it, if you persist
in going on. | only say to you-shun
him!"
l heard his words. l reflected; and
the temptation to heed them grew less
and less. recalled the poverty of my
life on the New Hampshire farm; my
yearning to be with him. When"
thought, "did he need friends more than
now?" was quickly decided.
81 am grateful, very grateful to you,
Mr.. Dorion," said. "But | must stand
by Mr.. Bostock."
He looked hard at me, and seized my
hand.
"You are a splendid fellow" he said.