initial commit of ebook 34416HEADmain

15 files changed, 10911 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/34416-8.txt b/34416-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c4d013
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3540 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The River's Children
+       An Idyl of the Mississippi
+
+Author: Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+Illustrator: Barry C. Edwards
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2010 [EBook #34416]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          THE RIVER'S CHILDREN
+
+                       AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI
+
+                         By RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+AUTHOR OF "SONNY," "HOLLY AND PIZEN," "MORIAH'S MOURNING," "NAPOLEON
+JACKSON," ETC.
+
+
+    With Pictures by
+    Barry C. Edwards
+
+    NEW YORK
+    THE CENTURY CO.
+    1904
+
+    Copyright, 1904, by
+    THE CENTURY CO.
+
+    Copyright, 1903, by
+    PHELPS PUBLISHING CO.
+
+    _Published October, 1904_
+
+    THE DE VINNE PRESS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Upon the brow of the levee"]
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Upon the brow of the levee
+
+Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with pickax and spade
+
+Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree
+
+The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, dashed to the
+front
+
+Her arms were about his knees
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVER'S CHILDREN
+
+AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI
+
+
+
+
+PART FIRST
+
+
+The Mississippi was flaunting itself in the face of opposition along its
+southern banks. It had carried much before it in its downward path ere
+it reached New Orleans. A plantation here, a low-lying settlement there,
+a cotton-field in bloom under its brim, had challenged its waters and
+been taken in, and there was desolation in its wake.
+
+In certain weak places above and below the city, gangs of men--negroes
+mostly--worked day and night, reinforcing suspicious danger-points with
+pickax and spade. At one place an imminent crevasse threatened life and
+property to such a degree that the workers were conscripted and held to
+their posts by promises of high wages, abetted by periodical passage
+along the line of a bucket and gourd dipper.
+
+[Illustration: "Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with
+pickax and spade"]
+
+There was apparently nothing worse than mirth and song in the bucket.
+Concocted to appeal to the festive instinct of the dark laborers as much
+as to steady their hands and sustain courage, it was colored a fine pink
+and floated ice lumps and bits of lemon when served. Yet there was a
+quality in it which warmed as it went, and spurred pickax and spade to
+do their best--spurred their wielders often to jest and song, too, for
+there was scarcely a secure place even along the brimming bank where one
+might not, by listening, catch the sound of laughter or of rhythmic
+voices:
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' hymn!
+    De river, she's a-boomin'--she's a-comin _che-bim_!
+        Swim, nigger, swim!
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!
+    De waters is a-floodin'--dey's a-roarin' on time!
+        Climb, squirrel, climb!"
+
+At this particular danger-spot just below the city, a number of
+cotton-bales, contributed by planters whose fortunes were at stake, were
+placed in line against a threatening break as primary support, staked
+securely down and chained together.
+
+Over these were cast everything available, to raise their height. It was
+said that even barrels of sugar and molasses were used, and shiploads of
+pig-iron, with sections of street railways ripped from their ties. Then
+barrels of boiling tar, tarpaulins, and more chains. And then--
+
+And then there were prayers--and messages to the priests up at the old
+St. Louis Cathedral, where many of the wives were kneeling--and reckless
+gifts of money to the poor.
+
+A few of the men who had not entered church for years were seen to cross
+themselves covertly; and one, a convivial creole of a rather racy
+reputation, was even observed, through the sudden turn of a lantern one
+night, to take from his pocket a miniature statue of St. Joseph, and to
+hold it between his eyes and the sky while he, too, crossed himself. And
+the boon companion who smiled at the sight did himself make upon his own
+breast a tiny sign of the cross in the dark, even as he moved toward his
+friend to chaff him. And when, in turning, he dimly descried the outline
+of a distant spire surmounted by a cross against the stars, he did
+reverently lift his hat.
+
+"It can't do any harm, anyhow," he apologized to himself; but when he
+had reached his friend, he remarked dryly:
+
+"You don't mean to tell me, Felix, dat you pray to St. Joseph yet, you
+old sinner! Excuse me, but dose passing lantern, dey give you away."
+
+"Pray to St. Joseph? I would pray to de devil to-night, me, Adolphe, if
+I believed he would drive de river down."
+
+"Sh! Don't make comparison between St. Joseph an' de devil, Felix. Not
+to-night, anyhow."
+
+"I di'n' done dat, Adolphe. No! _Pas du tout_. Not at all. H'only, I
+say, me, I _would_ pray to de devil _if_ he could help us out."
+
+He laughed and shrugged his shoulders as he added recklessly:
+
+"Yas, I would be one mud-catfish caught on his forked tail--just for
+to-night--an' let him drag me behind him in de river, if--"
+
+"But you mus' ricollec', de devil he don't play wid water, Felix. Fire
+is his--fire an' brimstone--"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Bah, Adolphe! Who is trying to talk sense to-night? Dose row of
+warehouse yonder, dey are _all full_, an' on my one pair shoulder. _My_
+li'l' crop is not'ing. I got in doze warehouse, waiting for a _sure_
+rise in de market--all on my ob_stin_ate judgment--everyt'ing of _my
+brudder_, _my t'ree cousin_, _my wife_, _my mud'-in-law_,--just
+t'ink!--not to speak about t'irty-five or forty small consignment. Sure!
+I would pray to _anyt'ing_ to-night--to save dem. I would pray to one
+_crawfish_ not to work dis way. Dem crawfish hole is de devil.
+
+"But dat St. Joseph in my pocket! My mudder, I am sure she put it dere.
+She an' my sisters, dey will all kneel many hours at deir _prie-dieux_
+to-night--po' t'ings!"
+
+"An' yo' wife--she also, of co'se--"
+
+"My wife?" The man chuckled. "Pff! Ah, no! She is at de opera. She knows
+I am watching de river. She believe it cannot run over so long I watch
+it. I married her yo'ng. Dat's de bes' way.
+
+"_Mais_, tell de trut', Adolphe, I am going to church, me, after dis.
+Dere's not'ing, after all, like God to stand in wid you! You hear me, I
+tell you to-night de rizzen our women keep good an' happy--_it is
+faith_. You know da's true."
+
+"Yas, I believe you, Felix. An' me, I t'ink I will go, too. _Any_'ow,
+I'll show up at Easter communion. An' dat's a soon promise, too. T'ree
+week las' Sunday it will be here.
+
+"All my yard is w'ite wid dem Easter lilies already. Dis soon spring
+compel dem. Wen you smell doze Bermudas above de roses in your garden
+in de middle of Lent, look out for Old Lady Mississippi. She is getting
+ready to spread her flounces over yo' fields--"
+
+"Yas, an' to dance on yo' family graves. You may say w'at you like,
+Adolphe--de ruling lady of dis low valley country, it is not de Carnival
+Queen; it is not de first lady at de Governor's Mansion. It is--let us
+raise our hats--it is Old Lady Mississippi! _She is_ de ruling lady of
+de Gulf country--old _mais_ forever yo'ng.
+
+"In my _ril_igion I have no superstition. I swallow it whole--even w'en
+I mus' shut my nose--I mean hol' my eyes. W'at is de matter wid me? I
+cannot talk straight to-night. _Mais_ to speak of de river, I mus'
+confess to you dat even w'en it is midsummer an' she masquerade like
+common dirty waters, I _pro_pitiate her.
+
+"Once, I can tell you, I was rowing one skiff across by de red church,
+an' suddenly--for w'y I di' n' see immediately--_mais_ out of de still
+water, mixed into bubbles only by my oars, over my hand came one _big
+wave_. I looked quick, but I could see only de sun to blind my eyes.
+_Mais_ you know w'at I did?
+
+"Dat bright sun, it _re_flect a small stone in my ring, one diamond, an'
+quick I slip it off an' drop it. It was de river's _pet_ition, an' w'at
+is a sixty-five-dollar diamond to a man w'en--"
+
+"Dey ain' got no _in_sanity in yo' family, I don't t'ink, Felix?
+Otherwise--excuse me--I would be oneasy for you."
+
+Adolphe was smiling, and he mischievously lifted one brow and drew up
+his lips as if to whistle.
+
+Felix smiled, too, as he replied:
+
+"You needn't fear for me, Adolphe. _Mais_ strong-headed ancestors, dey
+are not'ing. Me, I could _start_ a crazy line just as well as my
+great-gran'fodder. Everyt'ing mus' _begin somewhere_."
+
+But he added more seriously:
+
+"_Non_, I would do it again--_if_ I was on _such a trip_. I tell you
+w'at time it was; it was--"
+
+He dropped his voice and looked over his shoulder.
+
+"You want to know w'at, precisely, I was doing at de moment de river
+demand my ring? _I was praying to her! Sure!_" (This last in a whisper.)
+
+"Oh-h-h!" Adolphe's face lit. "Yas, I understand. I ricollec'. You mean
+about five year pas'--dat time yo' sister los' 'er firs' 'usband,
+w'en--?"
+
+"Yas, _ex_ac'ly. So you see dat _pred_icament in w'ich I was placed wid
+de river. I never liked po' Jacques Renault--" He shrugged his
+shoulders. "I never _prof_ess to like him, _mais_ he was my
+brud'-in-law; an' my po' sister--you know Felicité--she is my _twin_.
+She done not'ing but cry, cry, cry for fo' days an' nights, an' pay all
+'er money in de poor-box _to find him_. An' dey tried every way to bring
+him up. So me, I say not'ing, _mais_ w'en de fif day is come I loan from
+my cousin Achilles his wide skiff, an' I start out, an' I row two mile
+below w'ere dey foun' 'is clo'es an' hat, an' den I pull up again--an'
+wid every stroke I pray to de river to grant me dat satisfaction to find
+po' Jacques an' to lay him in his grave.
+
+"Tell you de trut', maybe I am a sinner to say it, _mais_ I was half
+afraid in my heart dat may_be_ Jacques was playing 'possum an' some day
+he would come back; an' w'en somebody is dead--dat's one terrible dread,
+_yas_--to get such a surprise, _es_pecially for one widow, you
+understand. It is a _re_striction, more or less, according to--Well,
+never mind.
+
+"You may b'lief me or not, _mais_ w'en de river she _re_quire of me dat
+ring, laying her wet hand over my hand like to take it, at de same time
+she turn it to de sun--well, I am not stupid. I dropped it _quick_ to
+her, an' den I looked _close_, yas, on de water, an' _im_mediately I see
+one--"
+
+"You said jus' now you saw only de glare of de sun--"
+
+"_Ex_ac'ly--an' den, naturally, one black spot befo' my eye, an' I t'ink
+it is de sun; _mais_--
+
+"Well, 't is a _dis_agreeable picture. Never mind! De river she _give
+me de swap_, an' we had one fine funeral de nex' day; an' my po' sister
+Felicité had her consolation.
+
+"So, like I say, w'at consideration was one small diamond ring for such
+a pleasure?
+
+"A widow widout a grave is like a wind in Feb'uary--crying always
+forever aroun' de house, wid nowhere to go, an' in her eyes are all
+kinds of weather. Bff!
+
+"It is great consolation, a grave. It is a half-way station between de
+home an' de church; an' a widow she need dat--for a w'ile.
+
+"Tell you de trut', w'en I take time to t'ink, Adolphe, sometimes I am
+ashame'. So long I am prosperous I am all for dis worl'; den, w'en
+somet'ing come, like now, an' t'row me on my knees, I feel cheap befo'
+God, yas. _Mais_, wid de river _so_, w'at can a man _do_ if he cannot
+_pray_? So, after to-night's _ex_perience, I am at home wid my li'l'
+family by eleven o'clock every night, _sure_."
+
+"'Ow much chillen you got now, Felix? You go too fas' for my
+'rit'metic."
+
+"Oh, no, not too fas'--just fas' enough. Only nine in over ten
+year--mos' eleven year. Only _six_, by _right_. I _engage_ for six;
+_mais_ w'at can a man do w'en his lady present him wid one _extra_, once
+in a w'ile! I am de las' one to make remark on her for dat, too,
+biccause I come dat way myself--following behind Felicité. Twins, dey
+run in some families; an' you know now I am coming to like dem. Dey are
+so sociable, twins."
+
+"Ah, my friend, you have plenty occasion to be one good man."
+
+"_Occasion!_ I am blessed. T'ink all I have got to be t'ankful! I got my
+mudder, my mud'-in-law, my fad'-in-law--all _ril_igious people an'
+good--an' _nine li'tl' one_, like six stair-steps wid t'ree landings for
+de _ac_commodation of de twins." He chuckled. "Yas, an' I am going to be
+good. No more dem soubrette supper for me. An' dem _danse de_--
+
+"_Mais wait! W'at is dat?_"
+
+A bell had rung, and a voice was calling out the depth of the water as
+shown upon a graduated scale marked low down against the pier. The
+announcement was half-hourly now.
+
+"W'at he say? T'irteen inches an' a--Dat's a half-inch fall. T'ank God!
+Maybe St. Joseph an' our women dey save us yet, Adolphe."
+
+"Yas, may_be_. _Mais_ I t'ink de winter is full broke in Minnesota, too.
+No more dat confoun' ice to melt. I looked _sure_ for de water to fall
+down yesterday. Any'ow, one half-inch is hope. Here, take one cigar. I
+can smoke, me, on dat half-inch. You got any matches, Felix?"
+
+In finding his match-box Felix's fingers came in contact with the tiny
+statue of St. Joseph in his pocket, but he was only half sensible of the
+fact in his nervous joy over the slight decline in the river.
+
+"Hello! Here is Harold Le Duc!" he exclaimed, as, by the light of his
+match, he chanced to catch the presentment of a distant face in the
+darkness.
+
+"Hello! Come along, Harry, an' smoke one cigar. We mus' celebrate dat
+insinuation dat de river is falling. Less dan one inch, it does not
+count, except to prove she is hesitating; an' you know de ol' saying,
+'She who hesitate'--'Hello, young man! You are good for sore eyes!"
+
+The person addressed had come forward with extended hand.
+
+When another match, lighting Adolphe's cigar, revealed the young man's
+face again, there was something so startling in its wonderful solemnity
+and beauty that both men were impressed.
+
+"You won't smoke? An'w'y? Come! It is one great comfort, a li'l' smoke.
+Here, let me--"
+
+He presented the cigars again.
+
+"Well, I thank you, but excuse me now." Young Le Duc took a cigar with a
+smile. "I'll enjoy it later, maybe; but not until we see a little
+further. As you say, a half-inch is only a hint, but it is a good one.
+I am going now up the coast, where trouble waits, and I may need a
+steady hand before morning. But I think the worst is over. Good
+night--and thank you. The folks--they are all well?"
+
+"Fine, all fine, and asking always for w'y you don't come to see dem."
+
+But he had gone.
+
+The eyes of both men followed the retreating figure in silence.
+
+It was Adolphe who spoke at last.
+
+"Ah-h-h!" he sighed. "An' yet we complain sometimes, you an' me, eh? I
+am t'irty-seven years old an' I got t'irteen healt'y chillen an' two
+gran'chillen, an' my wife--look at her, yo'nger an' happier wid every
+one--
+
+"Oh, I wonder, me, sometimes, dat God don't just snatch everyt'ing away
+jus' for spite, w'en we always complain so.
+
+"Did you take occasion to notice dat w'ite hair against dat yo'ng face?
+An' dey say he never mention his trouble."
+
+"I tell you, like we said, Adolphe, dat river she is--she is--"
+
+He threw up his right palm, as if in despair of adequate language.
+
+"_T'ink_ of coming home from de war, already robbed, to find _all_
+gone--home, wife, child, family, servants, _all_ obliterate', an' only
+de river's mark, green mold an' mildew, on de walls above de mantel in
+de house; an' outside her still face under de sky to answer, an' she
+heed no questions. She is called de father of waters? In a sense, yas,
+may_be_. _Mais_, no. She is, I tell you, de mother of trouble--_an'_
+pleasure, too.
+
+"She is, after all, de queen of dis valley, an' no mistake--dat river.
+When she need fresh ermine for her robe, she throw it over our cotton
+fields--"
+
+"Yas, an' de black spots, dey are our sorrows. Dat's not a bad
+resemblance, no."
+
+The speaker looked at his watch.
+
+"Pas' eleven," he said. "Da' 's good luck w'en she start to fall befo'
+midnight. Oh-h-h! _Mais_ she is one great coquette, yas. She keep you
+crazy until she get tired wid you, an' den she slip away an' steal her
+beauty-sleep befo' de clock strike twelve."
+
+"You t'ink she is going to sleep now? May_be_ she fool us yet, Adolphe."
+
+"Well, may_be_. _Mais_ I have great hope. She _beg_in to nod, and w'en
+dat happen to a woman or a riv--"
+
+Conversation was suddenly interrupted here by a great crash. The two men
+started, and, turning, saw an entire section of the improvised
+embankment fall landward.
+
+Had the stress of the moment been less, they would involuntarily have
+hastened to the spot, but terror fixed them where they stood. There was
+but a moment of suspense,--of almost despair,--but it seemed an
+eternity, before relief came in a great shout which sent vibrations of
+joy far along the bank, even to those who watched and worked on the
+right bank of the stream.
+
+It had been only a "dry break." The weights thrown in upon the cotton
+had been out of plumb, and had pitched the whole structure inward.
+
+The uproar following this accident was long and loud, and had not
+subsided when the bell rang again, and, with tense nerves strained to
+listen, the line of men dropped speech. Instead of calling out the
+decreasing depth, as usual, the crier this time shouted:
+
+"_Two inches down, thank God!_"
+
+Screams of joy, not unmixed with tears, greeted this announcement. The
+strain was virtually over.
+
+The two rich men who had stood and talked together mopped their
+foreheads and shook hands in silence.
+
+Finally it was the older, whom we have called Adolphe,--which was not
+his name any more than was his companion's Felix,--finally, then,
+Adolphe remarked quite calmly, as he looked at his watch:
+
+"I am glad dat cotton in de pile is saved, yas. 'T is not de first time
+de ol' city has fought a battle wid cotton-bales to help, eh, Felix? All
+doze foundation bales dey belong to Harold Le Duc. He _con_tribute dem,
+an' make no condition. All dat trash on top de cotton, it catch de tar;
+so to-morrow we dig it out clean an' give it to him again--an'--an'--
+
+"Well--"
+
+He looked at his watch again, keeping his eyes upon it for a moment
+before he ventured, in a lower tone:
+
+"Well, I say, Felix, my boy, w'at _you_ say?"
+
+"I di'n' spoke. W'at you say yourself, Adolphe?"
+
+"'Well,'--dat's all I said; jus' 'well.' _Mais_ I di'n' finish. I
+_beg_in to say, I--Well, I was just t'inking. You know to-night it is de
+_las'_ opera--don't you forget. No danger to make a _habit_ on a _las'
+night_; ain't dat true? For w'y you don't say somet'ing?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Talk, ol' man! I am listening." Felix looked at his watch now.
+"An' may_be_ I am t'inking a li'l' bit, too. _Mais_ go on."
+
+"Well, I am t'inking of doze strange ladies. I am _sure_ dey
+had many vacant box to-night. Don't you t'ink dey need a little
+encouragement--not to leave New Orleans wid dat _im_pression of neglect?
+We don't want to place a stigma upon de gay ol' town. My carriage is
+here, an' it is yet time. One hour, an' we will forget all dis trouble.
+I need me some champagne myself."
+
+Felix chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Ah-h-h! Yi! An' me, too, Adolphe. I tol' you I was t'inking also.
+_Mais_ let us sen' de good news home, an' let doze women off deir knees
+an' go to bed. My mud'-in-law she is de devil for prayin', an' she is
+poody stout, po' t'ing!
+
+"We telegram it. Tell dem deir prayers are answered--de water is down--"
+
+"An' our spirits are up, eh? An' we will be home in de morning, _w'en de
+valuable débris is removed_."
+
+Felix laughed and touched his friend in the ribs.
+
+"You are one devil, Adolphe. _Mais_ we mus' be good to our women."
+
+"Sure! I am going to return dat compliment you paid me jus' now. You say
+I am one devil, eh? _Bien!_ An' in response, I say, Felix, you are one
+_saint_. You hear me! I say, one _saint_--_un_canonized! Any man dat
+will telegram a message to save his rich mud'-in-law from maybe sudden
+apoplexy, he is one saint, _sure_! _Mais_ you are right. We mus' be good
+to our women. A happy wife is a joy forever!"
+
+He laughed again as he added:
+
+"_Mais_ de débris! Yi, yi! Dat make me smile. You ricollec' de las'
+débris, w'en Ma'm'selle Koko--"
+
+"Ah, yes, Felix! Sure, I remember. I paid, me, I know, one good round
+sum for my share. Dat was one terrible smash-up. Two dozen
+champagne-glass; one crystal decanter; one chandelier, also crystal,
+every light on it broke, so we had to put off de gas; an'--well, de
+devil knows w'at else.
+
+"Tell de trut', I don't like dat dancing on de supper-table, Felix. 'T
+is super_flu_ous. De floor is good enough. An' you know, w'en a lady is
+dancing on a table, after a good supper, of co'se every glass is a
+temptation to her slipper. An' slippers an' wine-glasses--well, to say
+de least, de combination it is disastrous.
+
+"So, I say, de floor it is good enough for me. It seem more _comme il
+faut_.
+
+"_Mais_ come along. We will be late."
+
+
+
+
+PART SECOND
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!
+    De waters is a-floodin'--dey 's a-roarin' on time!
+        Climb, squirrel, climb!"
+
+For several miles, when the night was still or the wind favorable, one
+could follow the song, accented by simultaneous blows of implements of
+defense marking the measure.
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing an' pray!
+    Ol' Death is on de water--he's a-ridin' dis way!
+        Pray, nigger, pray!"
+
+Some of the words might have been elusive had they been unfamiliar, but
+the annual agitation kept the songs of the river in mind; and even in
+safe sections, where many sat in peace beside the rising waters, they
+would take their pipes from their lips to catch up the danger-songs and
+sympathetically pass them along. Many a prayer went with them, too, from
+humble petitioners who knew whereof they prayed.
+
+Such were an old black couple who sat one night upon the brow of the
+outer levee at Carrollton, since become an upper district of
+far-reaching New Orleans.
+
+In strong contrast to the stirring scenes enacting below the city, all
+was peace and tranquillity here. A strong, new embankment, securely
+built several hundred feet inland, had some years before supplanted the
+outer levee, condemned as insecure, so that the white inhabitants of the
+suburb slept, intelligently safe behind a double barrier, for the
+condemned bank had stood the stress of so many seasons that much of the
+low land lying between the two levees was finally occupied by squatters,
+mostly negroes, this being free space, taking no rent of such as did not
+fear the ever-impending mortgage which the river held.
+
+Of this class, quite apart from others, might have been seen almost any
+evening the old couple, Hannah and Israel, sitting upon the brow of the
+levee near the door of their low cabin, while, always within call, there
+played about them a fair-haired little girl and a dog.
+
+When the beautiful child, followed by the dog, a fine Irish setter,
+would suddenly emerge in a chase from among the woodpiles about the
+cabin, there was a certain high-bred distinction in them both which set
+them apart from the rest of the picture.
+
+Sometimes they would "play too hearty," as Mammy expressed it, and she
+would call: "Dat 'll do now, Blossom! Come lay down, Blucher!" and,
+followed closely by the dog, the child would coddle at the knees of the
+woman, who "made the time pass" with stories. Sometimes these would be
+folk-tales brought over from Africa, or reminiscences of plantation
+life, but more often, feeling her religious responsibility to the
+little one, old Hannah would repeat such Bible stories as "befitted a
+child's mind," such as "Ab'um an' Isaac," "Eden's Gyarden," or "De
+Prodigum Son."
+
+Of them all, the Eden story was easily favorite, its salient mystery
+features affording fine scope for the narrator's power, while they held
+the imaginative child with the spell of all good wonder-tales. We get
+these stories so young and grow up with them so familiarly that when we
+finally come into a realization of them they hold no possible surprise
+and so their first charm is lost. Think of one story with such elements
+as a wonder-woman rising from a man's side while he slept--a talking
+serpent, persuasive in temptation as insidious in easy approaches--a
+flaming sword of wrath--a tree of knowledge--and the sounding voice of
+God as he walked through the garden "in the cool of the day"! Is not a
+single colloquialism of so venerable ancestry sufficient to dignify a
+language?
+
+Herself a classic in that she expressed the eternal quality of maternal
+love incarnate, the old woman thus unconsciously passed along to the
+object of her devotion the best classic lore of the ages. And sunrise
+and sunset, star- and moon-land, and their reflection in the great
+water-mirror, were hers and the child's, without the asking. Nor were
+they lost, although to both child and woman they were only common
+elements in life's great benediction.
+
+During the story-telling, which generally lasted until the sun sank
+across the river, but while its last rays still made "pictures of glory
+in the heavens" with the water's reflection,--pictures which served to
+illustrate many a narration, to inspire the speaker and impress a
+sensitive child,--the dog would stretch himself facing the two, and his
+intelligent and quizzical expression would sometimes make Mammy laugh in
+a serious place or change the drift of her story. Often, indeed, this
+had happened in the telling of certain animal tales which Mammy
+declared Blucher knew better than she and she even insisted that he
+occasionally winked at her and set her right when she went wrong.
+
+In the early dusk, the old man Israel would come trudging in from the
+water and sometimes he would light his pipe and join Mammy's audience.
+
+Occasionally Mammy would cook the supper in the open, upon a small
+charcoal furnace, and the "little Miss" would sup from a tiny low table
+brought from the cabin. Here she was served by the old people in turn,
+for they never ate until she had finished. Then the little girl was
+carefully undressed and sung to sleep with one of Mammy's velvet
+lullabies, in a dainty bed all her own, a berth which hung, shelf-like,
+against the wall; for the home of this incongruous family was quite as
+novel as the family itself.
+
+Part of the ladies' cabin of an old Mississippi steamboat, still
+shabbily fine in white paint and dingy gilding, which Israel had
+reclaimed from an abandoned wreck, formed a wing of the building. This,
+which, with its furnishings, Mammy called "Blossom's lay-out,"
+communicated by a door with a "lean-to" of weather-stained boards, whose
+mud chimney and homely front formed a strong contrast to the river
+entrance of white and gold. This grotesque architectural composite would
+have attracted attention at another time or place, but as one of a
+class, made to its need of any available material, it passed unnoticed
+beyond an occasional casual smile of amusement and sympathy.
+
+It was like the composite toilets of the poor blacks during the hard
+times suggestively called the "reconstruction period," when old women in
+soldier coats and boots, topped by third-hand feathered finery, waited
+at the distributing-station for free rations. No one ever thought of
+laughing at these pathetic grotesques, technically freed but newly
+enslaved by bitter circumstance.
+
+On the night with which this tale begins, when Mammy had put Blossom to
+sleep and tucked the mosquito-bar snugly around her, she went back to
+her place beside her husband, and, lighting her pipe, sat for a long
+time silent. This was so unusual that presently Israel said:
+
+"What de matter wid you dis evenin', Hannah? Huccome you ain't
+a-talkin'?"
+
+Hannah did not answer immediately. But after a time she said slowly:
+
+"I 's jes a-speculatin', Isrul--jes speculatin'." And, after another
+pause, she added, quite irrelevantly:
+
+"Is you got yo' swimp-sacks all set?"
+
+"In co'se I is." Israel's words came through a cloud of smoke.
+
+"An' yo' oars brung in?"
+
+"In co'se I is!"
+
+"An' de skift locked?"
+
+"In co'se I is!"
+
+"An' Blucher fed?"
+
+"What's de matter wid you, Hannah? You reckon I gwine forgit my reg'lar
+business?"
+
+The old woman smoked in silence for some minutes. Then she said:
+
+"Isrul!"
+
+"What you want, Hannah?"
+
+"I say, Isrul, I got some'h'n' on my mind. Hit 's been on my mind more
+'n a yeah, an' hit 's a-gittin' wuss."
+
+"What is it, Hannah?"
+
+"You an' me we 's growin' ole, Isrul--ain't dat so?"
+
+"Yas, Hannah."
+
+"An' we ain't got long to stay heah, hey, Isrul?"
+
+"Yas, ol' 'oman--can't dispute dat."
+
+"An'"--hesitatingly. "_You_ knows what 's on my mind, Isrul!"
+
+"Hit 's on my mind, too, Hannah. You don't need to 'spress yo'se'f. Hit
+'s on my mind, day an' night."
+
+"_What_'s on yo' mind, Isrul?"
+
+The old man began stirring the bowl of his pipe absently.
+
+"'Bout we gittin' ol', Hannah, an' maybe some day we'll drap off an'
+leave Marse Harol's chile all by she se'f, like de chillen in de
+wilderness.
+
+"What mek you mek me say it, Hannah? _You_ knows what 'sponsibility
+Gord done laid on we two. Ain't we done talked it over a hond'ed times
+'fo' now?"
+
+"Dat ain't _all_ what 's on my mind, Isrul."
+
+"What else is you got to fret yo'se'f about, Hannah? Ain't I mekin' you
+a good livin'? Ain't you had de money to put a new little silk frock
+away every yeah for de Blossom, and ain't dey all folded away, one a-top
+de yether, 'g'inst de answer to our prayers, so her daddy'll see her
+dressed to her station when he comes sudden? Ain't you got a
+one-way-silk alapaca frock an' a good bonnet for yo'se'f to tek de chile
+by de han' wid--when Gord see fitten to answer us? You ain't
+_hongry_--or _col'_, is yer?"
+
+"G' way, Isrul! Who's studyin' about victuals or clo'es! I 's ponderin'
+about de chile, dat 's all. 'T ain't on'y 'bout we gittin' ol'. _She_ 's
+gittin' _tall_. An' you know, Isrul, you an' me we ain't fitten to raise
+Marse Harol's chile. She's big enough to study quality manners an' white
+behavior. All Marse Harol's fam'ly's chillen knowed all de fancy high
+steps an' played scales on de pianner wid bofe hands at once-t, time dey
+was tall as Blossom is--an' dey made dancin'-school curtsies, too. I
+taken notice, Blossom is sort o' shy, an' she gittin' so she'll stand
+off when anybody speaks to her. Dis heah cabin on de river-bank ain't no
+place for my white folks. I sho' is pestered to see her gittin' shy an'
+shamefaced--like po' folks. Modest manners and upright behavior is her
+portion. I _know_ it by heart, but I can't _show_ it to her--I know it
+by knowledge, but of co'se I can't perform it; an' it frets me."
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"What is it, Isrul?"
+
+"Who gi'n us dis 'sponsibility? Is we axed for it?"
+
+"No, Isrul, we ain't axed for it."
+
+"Ain't you an' me promised Mis' Agnes, de day she died, to keep his
+chile, safe-t an' sound, tell Marse Harol' come?"
+
+"Dat 's six yeahs past, dis comin' Christmus, Isrul. I b'lieve Marse
+Harol' done dead an' gone."
+
+"Huccome you believe he dead? Is he come to you in de sperit?"
+
+"No, he ain't come, an' dat 's huccome hope stays wid me. If he was free
+in de sperit lan' he sho' would come an' gimme a sign. But reason is
+reason, an' ef he _ain't_ dead, huccome he don't come an' look arter his
+chile? My white folks warn't nuver shirkers--nor deserters. So, when I
+stays off my knees awhile an' casts away faith in de unseen, seem dat my
+horse-sense hit gives me trouble. An' den, like to-night, somehow my
+courage sinks, an' look like I kin see him dead an' forgot in some ol'
+ditch on de battle-field.
+
+"Jes _s'posin'_ dat 's de trufe, Isrul, what we boun' to do wid
+Blossom?"
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"You done heared a plenty o' preachin', ain't yer?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"Is you ever heared a preacher preach 'bout _s'posin'_?"
+
+"No, Isrul."
+
+"But I tell you what you _is_ hearn 'em preach about. You hearn 'em
+preach about _watchin'_ an' _prayin'_."
+
+"Dat 's so, Isrul, but yit'n still, you know de scripture say 'Hope
+referred meketh de heart sick.' You ricollec' dat, don't you?"
+
+"Yas, but dat 's a side-track. Dat ain't got nothin' to do wid answer to
+prayer. Dat 's jes to give comfort to weary souls, when de waitin'-time
+is long; dat 's all. Dey may git sick at heart--jes' waitin'."
+
+"You right, Isrul."
+
+"Well, an' arter watchin' an' prayin', dey 's one mo' thing needful. An'
+dat 's _faith_.
+
+"Ef we _watches_ for Marse Harol' to come, an' _prays_ for 'im to come,
+an' don't _trus'_, you reckon Gord gwine to bother wid us?"
+
+"I _tries_ to trus', Isrul, an' mos' days I does look for Marse Harol'.
+Many 's de time I done taken Blossom by de hand an' walked along de
+levee an' looked down in de Ca'ollton gyarden while de ban' played, an'
+jes fairly scroochinized my ol' eyes out, hopin' to reconnize 'im in de
+dance. I'm dat big a fool in faith--I sho' is. An' I tries de best I kin
+to keep my faith warm, so de good Lord 'll see it glowin' like a live
+coal in my heart an' he 'll 'member hisse'f about de chile an' sen' 'er
+daddy home, _sen' 'er daddy home_! My Gord, I say, SEN' 'ER DADDY HOME!
+I tries continu'sly, Isrul."
+
+"You must n't talk about tryin', Hannah. You mus' jes b'lieve it, same
+as a little chile--same like you see it; an' den you does see it. An'
+when you git along so fur dat you _sees_ wid de neye o' faith, Gord 'll
+sho' mek yo' faith good. Ef faith kin h'ist a mountain an' shove it
+along, hit can fetch a man home whar he b'longs; an' hit 'll do it,
+too."
+
+"Isrul!"
+
+"What is it, Hannah?"
+
+"Gord ain't nuver _promised_ to sen' Marse Harol' home, as I knows on."
+
+"He's promised to answer de prayer o' faith, ain't He?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul, dat 's so. Pray Him to strenken my faith, ol' man. You
+stays so much on de water wid de sky in yo' eyes, whilst I works 'mongst
+de woodpiles, so close to de yearth--seem like maybe you mought git
+nigher to Gord 'n what I'm enabled to do. Pickin' up chips, hit 's lowly
+work an' hit keeps yo' face down, an'--"
+
+"Don't say dat, ol' 'oman! Use yo' fo'sight an' 'stid o' you seein'
+_chips_ you'll see _kindlin'-wood_. Dat what dey _is_. Dey 'll lead yo'
+heart upward dat-a-way. Heap o' folks don't see nothin' but money in de
+river--money an' mud; an' dey don't know it's a merror sometimes, full
+o' stars an' glory. I done read Gord's rainbow promises on de face o'
+dat muddy river more 'n once-t, when I lifted out my swimp-nets on a
+still mornin' whilst de sun an' de mist consulted together to show a
+mericle to a ol' dim-eyed nigger."
+
+"You sho' does help me when you 'splains it all out dat-a-way, Isrul.
+Pray like a gordly man, ol' pardner, an' yo' ol' 'oman she gwine talk
+faith strong as she kin--widout turnin' hycoprite."
+
+"Dat's right, honey--ol' 'oman--dat's right. _You_ pray an' _I'll_
+pray--an' we'll _watch_ wid _faith_. An' ef Gord don't sen' Marse
+Harol', He'll git a message to us some way, so we'll be guided."
+
+The sound of a horn from across the river put an end to the
+conversation. Some one was blowing for the ferryman.
+
+"PITY you tied _Wood-duck_ up so soon to-night," said the old wife,
+following Israel with her eyes as she spoke, while he rose slowly and
+taking the oars down from the rafters started to the river.
+
+In a moment the old man's answering horn sounded clear and loud in
+response, and the clank of the chain as it dropped in the bow of the
+skiff, followed by the rhythmic sound of the oar-locks, told his
+listening mate that the ferryman was on his way.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Besides plying the ferry-skiff at which Israel earned odd dimes--every
+day a few--he turned many an honest penny with his shrimp-nets.
+
+The rafts of logs chained together at the landing were his, and
+constituted the initial station of a driftwood industry which was
+finally expressed in the long piles of wood which lay stacked in cord
+measures on either side of the cabin.
+
+The low and prolonged talk of the old people to-night had been
+exceptional only in its intensity. The woman's reluctant almost despair
+of a forlorn hope was pathetic indeed. Still it was but momentary. They
+had gone over the same ground many times before, and fear and even
+foreboding had occasionally clouded their vision in reviewing the
+situation.
+
+The woman's observation in regard to the child's growing tall was the
+first suggestion to Israel's mind of the urgency of immediate relief. In
+the stress of material provision, men may be forgiven if they sometimes
+overlook life's abstract values.
+
+Israel was so startled by this new thought that when he had rowed his
+boat out into the clearing which the broad river afforded, he
+involuntarily pressed the handles of his oars, lifting their blades from
+the water, while he turned his eyes in one direction and another and
+then upward. He had a hard problem to solve. Here was a great thinking
+space, and yet, although he stopped for the length of several strokes,
+and the night was mild and still,--although every condition was
+favorable for clear thought,--his mind seemed lost in a sort of maze,
+and it was only when he discovered by a familiar landmark that he was
+drifting fast down-stream, only with this obtrusion of the actual, that
+he rallied quickly, and with a deft stroke or two recovered his course.
+And as the oar-locks measured time again he chuckled:
+
+"I got my lesson, yas, I got my lesson. _Work!_ Dat 's my po'tion. Quick
+as I gits biggoty and tries to read above my head, I goes de downward
+way."
+
+He said it aloud, to himself, and the words gave him renewed energy,
+for, even as he spoke, the _Duck_, with oars for wings, plunged lightly
+forward over the water to a quickened measure.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The old wife, sitting alone, sleepless always when her man was making a
+night trip, was even before his summons to-night painfully awake. It was
+as if the outcry which had burst the door of patience had set her old
+mind free to wander. She seemed to have a broader vision, a new
+perspective upon a situation in which she was herself the chief
+conserving factor. While she kept the child within her door well in her
+subconscious care, and knew by her regular breathing that she slept:
+while she felt the near presence of the dog on guard at her skirts'
+hem, her conscious thoughts were far away.
+
+Quickly even as lightning darts, zigzagging a path of light from one
+remote point to another in its eccentric course--her dim eyes actually
+resting upon the night skies where the lightnings play--she traveled
+again in her musings the arbitrary paths of fate from one crisis to
+another in the eventful latter years of her life. Then she would seem to
+see clear spaces, and again the bolts of misfortune which presaged the
+storm of sorrow out of which had come her present life.
+
+First in the anxious retrospect there was the early break in the family
+when the boys began going away to college; then the sudden marriage of
+the youngest of the three; the declaration of war; the enlistment of the
+two elder students in the voluntary service which had transferred their
+names from the university roster to the list of martyrs.
+
+Another dart as of lightning, and she saw this youngest come home with
+his fair New England bride, to depart with her and Israel for an island
+home beyond the canebrakes, and on the heel of this divided joy came his
+passionate enlisting "to avenge the death of his brothers." And
+then--ah! and then--how fast the zigzags dart! Rapid changes everywhere
+traced in fire, and, as memory recalled them, throughout the whole was
+ever the rolling thunder of artillery, completing the figure.
+
+The story is one of thousands, individualized, of course, each, by
+special incidents and personalities, but the same, every one, in its
+history of faithfulness of the slave people during the crucial period
+when the masters had gone to battle, leaving their wives and babies in
+the care of those whose single chance of freedom depended on the defeat
+of the absent.
+
+Hannah and Israel had been loved and trusted servants in the family of
+old Colonel Le Duc. The woman had nursed all the babies in turn, Harold
+being the last, and hence her own particular "baby" for all time.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Brake Island, so called because of its situation in a dense cane-brake,
+which was at once a menace and a guard, was the most unpopular part of
+the colonel's large estate, albeit there was no land so rich as its
+fields, no wood better stocked with game than the narrow forest lying
+close along its northern limit, no streams more picturesque in their
+windings or better equipped for the angler's art than that of the Bayou
+d'Iris, whose purple banks declared the spring while the robins were
+calling, and before the young mocking-birds in the crape myrtles opened
+their great red mouths for the wriggling song-food of the bayou's brim.
+
+All the Le Duc sons had loved to go to the island to shoot and to fish
+while they were lads, but upon attaining the social age they had grown
+to despise it for its loneliness. The brake which fringed its borders
+had long been a refuge for runaway negroes, who were often forced to
+poach upon its preserves for food, even to the extent of an occasional
+raid upon its smoke-houses and barns, so that women and children were
+wont to shudder at the very idea of living there. Still it had always
+been the declared "favorite spot on earth" to the colonel, who had often
+vowed that no son of his should own it and spurn it.
+
+He lived like a lord himself, it is true, on a broader place of less
+beauty on the bank of the great river,--"keeping one foot in New Orleans
+and one on the plantation," as he expressed it,--and it is not
+surprising that his children had laughingly protested against being
+brought up on house-parties and the opera as preparation for a hermit's
+life, even in "Paradise."
+
+All excepting Harold. While the brothers had protested against the
+island home, he had said little, but when he had brought his bride home,
+and realized the scant affection that stirred the hearts of his family
+at sight of her placid New England face, even while he himself suffered
+much, knowing that her brothers were enlisting in the opposing armies
+and that her family felt her marriage at this time to a slaveholder as a
+poignant sorrow--while the father seemed hesitating as to just what
+paternal provision he should make for his impulsive boy, the boy
+himself, in a sudden towering declaration of his manhood and of
+resentment and pride, turned upon him:
+
+"Give us Brake Island and Mammy and Israel, and cut us loose! And I'll
+show my people a new variety of hermit life!"
+
+The thing was quickly done. A deed of gift made on the spot conveyed
+this Eden of modern times, with its improvements, full working force and
+equipment, to Harold Guyoso Le Duc, who in accepting it assumed the one
+condition of making it his home.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Harold was a brilliant fellow, impulsive and extravagant as he was
+handsome and loving, and he had no sooner taken possession of his Eden
+than he began to plan, by means of a system of engineering, to open it
+up by a canal which should "span the brake and tap the bayou," so that
+boats of size and circumstance might enter. Here he would have a launch
+and a barge, and the great world of culture, of wit, of pleasure, and of
+affluence should come in splendor "to watch a hermit herm," or, as he as
+often put it, "to help a hummit hum."
+
+A great house-party was quickly arranged--a party of gay friends,
+engineers chiefly, bidden for a freely declared purpose--a party which
+is still cherished in the annals of local social history as a typical
+example of affluent ante-bellum hospitality, and is even yet personally
+recalled by a few old men who sit and seem to wait, mostly, in shabby
+clothing incongruously ill fitting their gilded reminiscence, at certain
+dozing business resorts in old New Orleans.
+
+Most of these venerables still live in their shabby ancestral homes,
+although it may be their women take boarders or their best rooms are let
+for business purposes--cleared of their cumbersome furnishings of
+mahogany and rosewood by the rising waters of misfortune which have
+gradually carried them into the "antique-shops" of the vicinity.
+
+A place of honor on the tax-lists and a waiting palace of white marble
+in the cemetery--these querulous witnesses to distinction and of
+permanency are in some cases the sole survivors of the many changes
+incident upon a reconstruction.
+
+To these gentle reminiscers the "Brake Island house-party of Harold Le
+Duc" is even yet the Procrustean bed against which they measure all the
+ostentatious pageantry of a new and despised social order.
+
+For the possible preservation of a bit of local color--gone out in the
+changed light of a new dispensation--behold a hasty sketch of this
+long-ago playtime. The invitations which were sent out, naming a single
+date only, with the flattering implication that the visit so urgently
+desired might never come to an end,--one of the easy fashions of the old
+régime,--promptly brought a dozen men, with as many women, wives and
+sweethearts, to the "big house" beyond the swamp.
+
+This Southern home, which was broadly typical of its class, simple
+enough in its architecture in that its available space, barring the
+watch-tower in the center of its roof, was all upon a single floor and
+its material the indigenous woods of the forest, yet suffered no
+diminution in being called the "big house"--a name which has been made
+to serve many a lesser structure for purposes of distinction.
+
+Set high upon brick pillars,--there are no cellars possible in the
+Mississippi valley country,--its low, spreading form graced the easy
+eminence upon which it stood, dominating its wide demesne with a quiet
+dignity superior to that of many a statelier home.
+
+In design it was a Greek cross. Surrounded on all sides by deep
+balconies, ornate with cornice and Corinthian columns, its four arms
+afforded as many entrances, of which the southern portal was formal
+front, from which an avenue of arbor-vitćs led down to the canopied
+landing at the bayou's bank at the foot of the decline.
+
+The house had been designed and built by Harold's father, in an
+exuberance of youthful enthusiasm, upon his early marriage. He it was
+who had planted the trailing roses and wistaria-vines, whose gnarled
+trunks, now woody and strong as trees, topped the balconies, throwing
+profusions of bloom adown their pillars and along their balustrades.
+Here Lamarque, Solfaterre, Cloth-of-gold, Musk-cluster, Lady-bank,
+Multi-flora--all the cherished climbing roses of an earlier
+period--mingled in harmonious relations with honeysuckle, woodbine, and
+clematis.
+
+The most beautiful of them all, the single yellow-centered Cherokee rose
+of the soil,--good enough in itself for anywhere, but ostracized through
+caste exclusion from distinction of place about the home,--lay in heavy
+tangles in the tall, impenetrable hedges which bounded the garden on
+three sides meeting the bayou at the base of the knoll.
+
+Within its inclosure a resident colony of choice flowers--exotics
+mainly, but domiciled and grown hardy in this protected spot--had waxed
+riotous in the license of years of neglect, and throwing off traditions,
+as many another aristocrat in like circumstances has done before,
+appeared now in novel forms developed in life's open race with children
+of the soil.
+
+Here in season were great trees of camellia, white and red, with each a
+thousand waxen blooms, stalwart woody growths of lemon-verbena, topping
+sweet olives and answering the challenge of the stately oleanders,
+which, in turn, measured heads against the magnolias' shoulders.
+
+Appropriating any available support, great scarlet geraniums ten feet
+high, knowing no winters, laid hands upon the trellises and matched
+pennies with the locust blooms, red petal against white, affiliating,
+weak-spined as they were, with scrub-trees which counted real trees at
+least in their Louisiana pedigrees.
+
+"Cape jasmine borders" had risen into hedges, fencing in certain beds,
+while the violets, which originally guarded fantastic forms in outline,
+had gregariously spread into perennial patches of green and purple.
+
+And everywhere there were orange-trees--not a grove here, but always one
+or more in the range of vision. Their breath was over the garden, and
+even the bees in the locust-trees, with all their fuss and scattering
+of honey sweets, could not dispel their all-pervading suggestion of
+romance--the romance of life incarnate ever expressed in their peerless
+exhibits of flower, fresh fruit and yellow, all growing together upon a
+maternal tree rich in life and tone.
+
+Too many words about an old garden? Perhaps so, and yet--
+
+The spirit of a venerable garden as it rises and shows itself to memory
+is such a benediction that one seeing the vision may sometimes wonder
+if, if _life_, _per se_, be eternal, and the resurrection of _certain_
+so-called "dead" a _fact_, we may not some day wander again in the risen
+gardens of our childhood, recognizing them by verification of certain
+familiar faces of flowers who may know us in turn and bloom
+again--taking up life, which ever includes love and immortality, at the
+point of suspension, as a mother, waking from a nap, goes back to her
+window, and catching up her broken song held in the cobwebs of sleep,
+sings it through, while she finishes a little sleeve, her foot again
+upon the cradle at her side.
+
+Life is the great serial--one chapter printed here, another there--a
+seemingly finished comedy crowding a tragedy unrelated, yonder.
+
+The discerning artist who, reading as he runs, brings these parts into
+line will have begun the great book. Until Gabriel wills, it may not be
+finished.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+It was, no doubt, but natural that the man of the world, who had
+deserted such an Eden of his own designing for the ostensible excuse of
+business convenience, should have resented in his sons their inherited
+repugnance to the retired life.
+
+What more formidable combatant than one's own stubbornness, turned to
+confront him, in his children?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The broken trip from New Orleans to the Island took nearly two days,
+although the crow does it easily in a few hours.
+
+The initial munificence of chartering one of the great Mississippi
+steamboats for the first stage of the journey set the pace for the
+entire occasion. Host and hostess met their guests at the river landing
+with carriages and cane wagons gaily bedecked with evergreens, mosses,
+and dogwood branches in flower, and a merry drive through several miles
+of forest brought them to the banks of the bayou, where a line of
+rowboats awaited them.
+
+The negro boatmen, two to man each skiff, wearing jumpers of the Harvard
+crimson, stood uncovered in line at the bayou's edge, and as the party
+alighted, they served black coffee from a fire in the open.
+
+The negro with a cup of coffee his own hue and clear as wine is ever an
+ubiquitous combination in the Louisiana lowlands. He bobs up so
+unexpectedly in strange places balancing his tiny tray upon his hand,
+that a guest soon begins to look for him almost anywhere after an
+interval of about three dry hours, and with a fair chance of not being
+disappointed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When finally the party had embarked, the hostess riding in the first
+boat with the governor of the State, while Harold brought up the rear
+with the governor's lady, the sun was low in the west, and narrow
+search-lights, piercing the wood for a brief moment, revealed a great
+wonder-world of dank growths so fairly alive with creeping, flying,
+darting things--chirping, calling, singing, croaking, humming, and
+hooting--that when in a twinkling the light suddenly went out, many of
+the women shuddered with a shrinking sense of the uncanny.
+
+Before this intangible emotion had time to crystallize into fear,
+however, each pilot who manipulated the rudder astern had drawn from
+under his seat a great torch of pine and set it ablaze.
+
+Under festoons of gray Spanish moss, often swung so low that heads and
+torches were obliged to defer to them, and between flowering banks which
+seemed sometimes almost to meet in the floating growths which the
+dividing bows of the boats plowed under, the little crafts sped lightly
+along.
+
+Occasionally a heavy plunging thing would strike the water with a thud,
+so near a boat that a girlish shriek would pierce the wood, spending
+itself in laughter. A lazy alligator, sleepily enjoying a lily-pool,
+might have been startled by the light, or a line of turtles, clinging
+like knots to a log over the water, suddenly let go.
+
+Streaks of darting incandescence marked the eccentric flights of a
+million fireflies flecking the deep wood whose darkness they failed to
+dispel; and once or twice two reflected lights a few inches apart,
+suggesting a deer in hiding, increased the tremulous interest of this
+super-safe but most exciting journey.
+
+But presently, before impressions had time to repeat themselves, and
+objects dimly discerned to become familiar, a voice from the leading
+boat started a song.
+
+It was a great voice, vibrant, strong, and soft as velvet, and when
+presently it was augmented by another, insidiously thrown in, then
+another in the next boat, until all the untutored Harvard oarsmen were
+bravely singing and the dipping oars fell into the easy measure, all
+sense of fear or place was lost in the great uplift of the rhythmic
+melody.
+
+At special turns through the wood ringing echoes gave back the strains.
+A mocking-bird, excited by the unusual noise, poured forth a rival
+disputatious song, and an owl hooted, and something barked like a fox;
+but it was the great singing of the men which filled the wood.
+
+Common songs of the plantation followed one another--songs of love, of
+night and bats, of devils and hobgoblins, selected according to the will
+of the leader--all excepting the opening song, which, although of the
+same repertoire, was "by request," and for obvious reasons.
+
+It was called "When de Sun Swings Low," and ran something like this:
+
+    Look out for Mister Swaller when de sun swings low--
+              Watch him swoop an' sway!
+    He keeps a mighty dippin', like he don' know whar to go,
+              A-saggin' every way.
+          He starts sort o' nimbly,
+          But he settles mighty wimbly
+          When he scurries for de chimbley
+                When de sun swings low.
+
+    Does you see a cloud a-risin' when de sun swings low?
+              Listen ef it sings.
+    Hit 's a swarm o' gray muskitties, 'bout a million strong or so,
+              A-sharpenin' up der stings.
+            Dey keeps a mighty filin',
+            An' dey tries to sing beguilin',
+            But de 'skitties' song is rilin'
+                When de sun swings low.
+
+    Oh, de woods is all conversin' when de sun swings low--
+              Bird an' beast an' tree;
+    Dey all communes together in de languages dey know,
+              An' sperits rise to see.
+           De nightmares prances,
+           An' de will-o'-wisp dances,
+           When de moonlight advances
+              An' de sun swings low.
+
+But most naďve and characteristic of them all perhaps was "Ol' Marse
+Adam."
+
+    Ole Mister Devil took a walk in Paradise--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too--
+    Hoped to meet Mars' Adam, she was steppin' mighty nice--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+    Dis was 'fo' de fig-time, so my lady picked a rose--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too--
+    An' she helt it 'g'inst de sunlight, as she felt de need o' clo'es--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+    Den she shuk 'er yaller ringlets down an' 'lowed dat she was dressed--
+          Lady Mis' Eve, she's a-walkin', too--
+    Mister Devil he come quoilin'--everbody knows de rest--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+Then, changing to a solemn, staccato measure, it went on:
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Et de lady's apple up an' give her all de blame.
+    Greedy-gut, greedy-gut, whar is yo' shame?
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Caught de apple in 'is neck an' made it mighty so'e,
+    An' so we po' gran'chillen has to swaller roun' de co'e.
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Praised de lady's attitudes an' compliment 'er figur'--
+    Didn't have de principle of any decent nigger.
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+It was a long pull of five miles up the winding stream, but the spirit
+of jollity had dispelled all sense of time, and when at last the
+foremost boat, doubling a jutting clump of willows, came suddenly into
+the open at the foot of the hill, the startling presentment of the white
+house illuminated with festoons of Chinese lanterns, which extended
+across its entire width and down to the landing, was like a dream of
+fairyland.
+
+It was indeed a smiling welcome, and exclamations of delight announced
+the passage of the boats in turn as they rounded the willow bend.
+
+The firing of a single cannon, with a simultaneous display of
+fireworks, and music by the plantation band, celebrated the landing of
+the last boat.
+
+Servants in the simple old-fashioned dress--checked homespun with white
+accessories, to which were added for the occasion, great rosettes of
+crimson worn upon the breast--took care of the party at the landing,
+bringing up the rear with hand-luggage, which they playfully balanced
+upon their heads or shifted with fancy steps.
+
+The old-time supper--of the sort which made the mahogany groan--was
+served on the broad back "gallery," while the plantation folk danced in
+the clearing beyond, a voice from the basement floor calling out the
+figures.
+
+This was a great sight.
+
+Left here to their own devices as to dress, the negroes made so dazzling
+a display that, no matter how madly they danced, they could scarcely
+answer the challenge of their own riotous color schemes.
+
+Single dancers followed; then "lad_y_es and gentiles" in pairs, taking
+fantastic steps which would shame a modern dancing-master without once
+awakening a blush in a maiden's cheek.
+
+The dancing was refined, even dainty, to-night, the favorite achievement
+of the women being the mincing step taken so rapidly as to simulate
+suspension of effort, which set the dancers spinning like so many tops,
+although there was much languid posing, with exchange of salutations and
+curtsying galore.
+
+Yet not a twirl of fan or dainty lift of flounce--to grace a figure or
+display a dexterous foot--but expressed a primitive idea of high
+etiquette.
+
+The "fragments" left over from the banquet of the upper porch--many of
+them great unbroken dishes, meats, game, and sweets--provided a great
+banquet for the dancers below, and the gay late feasters furnished
+entertainment, fresh and straight from life, to the company above, for
+whose benefit many of their most daring sallies were evidently thrown
+out--and who, after their recent experiences, were pleased to be so
+restfully entertained.
+
+Toasts, drunk in ginger-pop and persimmon beer innocent of guile, were
+offered after grace at the beginning of the supper, the toaster stepping
+out into the yard and bowing to the gallery while he raised his glass
+or, literally, his tin cup--the passage of the master's bottle among the
+men, later in the evening, being a distinct feature.
+
+The first toast was offered to the ladies--"Mistus an' Company-ladies";
+and the next, following a suggestion of the first table, where the host
+had been much honored, was worded about in this wise:
+
+"We drinks to de health, an' wealth, _an'_ de long life of de _leadin'
+gentleman_ o' _Brake Island_, who done put 'isself to so much pains an'
+money to give dis party. But to make de toast accordin' to manners, so
+hit'll fit de gentleman's visitors long wid hisself, I say let's drink
+to who but 'OLE MARSE ADAM!'"
+
+It is easy to start a laugh when a festive crowd is primed for fun, and
+this toast, respectfully submitted with a low bow by an ancient and
+privileged veteran of the rosined bow, was met with screams of delight.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+A resourceful little island it was that could provide entertainment for
+a party of society folk for nearly a fortnight with never a repetition
+to pall or to weary.
+
+The men, equipped for hunting or fishing, and accompanied by several
+negro men-servants with a supplementary larder on wheels,--which is to
+say, a wagon-load of bread, butter, coffee, condiments, and wines, with
+cooking utensils,--left the house early every morning, before the ladies
+were up.
+
+They discussed engineering schemes over their fishing-poles and
+game-bags, explored the fastnesses of the brake, eavesdropped for the
+ultimate secret of the woods, and plumbed for the bayou's heart,
+bringing from them all sundry tangible witnesses of geologic or other
+conditions of scientific values.
+
+Most of these "witnesses," however, it must be confessed, were
+immediately available for spit or grill, while many went--so bountiful
+was the supply--to friends in the city with the cards of their captors.
+
+There are champagne bottles even yet along the marshes of Brake Island,
+bottles whose bellies are as full of suggestion as of mud, and whose
+tongueless mouths fairly whistle as if to recount the canards which
+enlivened the swampland in those halcyon days of youth and hope and
+inexperience.
+
+Until the dressing-hour, in the early afternoons which they frankly
+called the evening, the young women coddled their bloom in linen cambric
+night-gowns, mostly, reading light romance and verse, which they quoted
+freely under the challenge of the masculine presence.
+
+Or they told amazing mammy-tales of voudoo-land and the ghost-country
+for the amused delectation of their gentle hostess, who felt herself
+warmed and cheered in the sunshine of these Southern temperaments. It
+seemed all a part of the poetry and grace of a novel and romantic life.
+
+Here were a dozen young women, pretty and care-free as flowers, any one
+of whom could throw herself across the foot of a bed and snatch a
+superfluous "beauty-sleep" in the midst of all manner of jollity and
+laughter.
+
+Most of them spoke several languages and as many dialects, frequently
+passing from one to another in a single sentence for easy subtlety or
+color, and with distinct gain in the direction of music.
+
+Possibly they knew somewhat of the grammar of but a single tongue beside
+their own, their fluency being more of a traditional inheritance than an
+acquisition. Such is the mellow equipment of many of our richest
+speakers.
+
+Not one but could pull to pieces her Olympe bonnet and nimbly retrim it
+with pins, to match her face or fancy--or dance a Highland fling in her
+'broidered nightie, or sing--
+
+How they all did sing--and play! Several were accomplished musicians.
+One knew the Latin names of much of the flora of the island, and found
+time and small coins sufficient to interest a colony of eager
+pickaninnies to gather specimens for her "herbarium."
+
+Without ever having prepared a meal, they could even cook, as they had
+soon amply proven by the heaping confections which were always in
+evidence at the man-hour--bon-bons, kisses, pralines, what not?--all
+fragrant with mint, orange-flower, rose-leaf, or violet, or heavy with
+pecans or cocoanut.
+
+In the afternoon, when the men came home, they frequently engaged in
+contests of skill--in rowing or archery or croquet; or, following
+nature's manifold suggestions, they drifted in couples, paddling
+indolently among the floating lily-pads on the bayou, or reclining among
+the vines in the summer-houses, where they sipped iced orange syrup or
+claret sangaree, either one a safe lubricator, by mild inspiration or
+suggestion, of the tongue of young love, which is apt to become tied at
+the moment of most need.
+
+[Illustration: "Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree"]
+
+With the poems of Moore to reinforce him with easy grace of words, a
+broad-shouldered fellow would naďvely declare himself a peri, standing
+disconsolate at the gate of his lady's heart, while she quoted Fanny
+Fern for her defense, or, if she were passing intellectual and of a
+broader culture, she would give him invitation in form of rebuff from
+"The Lady of the Lake," or a scathing line from Shakspere. Of course,
+all the young people knew their Shakspere--more or less.
+
+They had their fortunes told in a half-dozen fashions, by withered old
+crones whose dim eyes, discerning life's secrets held lightly in
+supension, mated them recklessly _on suspicion_.
+
+Visiting the colored churches, they attended some of the novel services
+of the plantation, as, for instance, a certain baptismal wedding, which
+is to say a combined ceremony, which was in this case performed quite
+regularly and decorously in the interest of a coal-black piccaninny,
+artlessly named Lily Blanche in honor of two of the young ladies present
+whom the bride-mother had seen but once out driving, but whose gowns of
+flowered organdy, lace parasols, and leghorn hats had stirred her sense
+of beauty and virtue to action.
+
+Although there was much amusement over this incongruous function, the
+absence of any sense of embarrassment in witnessing so delicate a
+ceremony--one which in another setting would easily have become
+indelicate--was no doubt an unconscious tribute to the primitive
+simplicity of the contracting parties.
+
+And always there were revival meetings to which they might go and hear
+dramatic recitals of marvelous personal "experiences," full of
+imagery,--travels in heaven or hell,--with always the resounding human
+note which ever prevails in vital reach for truth. Through it all they
+discerned the cry which finds the heart of a listener and brings him
+into indissoluble relation with his brother man, no matter how great the
+darkness out of which the note may come. It is universal.
+
+The call is in every heart, uttered or unexpressed, and one day it will
+pierce the heavens, finding the blue for him who sends it forth, and for
+the listener as well if his heart be attuned.
+
+Let who will go and sit through one of these services, and if he does
+not come away subdued and silent, more tender at heart, and, if need be,
+stronger of hand to clasp and to lift, perhaps--well, perhaps his mind
+is open only to the pictorial and the spectacular.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is no telling how long the house-party would have remained in
+Paradise but for the inexorable calendar which warned certain of its
+members that they would be expected to answer the royal summons of Comus
+at the approaching carnival; and of course the important fact that
+certain bills from the legislature affecting the public weal were
+awaiting the governor's signature.
+
+A surprising number of marriages followed this visit, seeming to confirm
+a report of an absurd number of engagements made on the island.
+
+There is a certain old black woman living yet "down by the old basin" in
+French New Orleans, a toothless old crone who, by the irony of
+circumstance, is familiarly known as "Ol' Mammy Molar," who "remembers"
+many things of this time and occasion, which she glibly calls "de
+silveringineer party," and who likes nothing better than an audience.
+
+If she is believed, this much too literal account of a far-away time is
+most meager and unfaithful, for she does most strenuously insist that,
+for instance, there was served at the servants' table on that first
+night--
+
+But let her have her way of it for a moment--just a single breath:
+
+"Why, honey," she closes her eyes as she begins, the better to see
+memory behind them. "Why, honey, de champagne wine was passed aroun' to
+de hands all dat indurin' infair in _water-buckets_, an' dipped out in
+_gou'd dippers-full_, bilin' over so fast an' fizzin' so it'd tickle yo'
+mouf to drink it. An' Marse Harol' Le Duc, he stood on a _pi_anner-stool
+on de back gallery an' th'owed out gol' dollars by de hatful for any of
+us niggers to pick up; an' de guv'ner, ol' Marse Abe Lincolm, he fired
+off sky-rockers an' read out freedom papers.
+
+"An' mids' all de dance an' reveltry, a bolt o' thunder fell like a
+cannon-ball outen a clair sky, an' we looked up an' lo an' beholst, here
+was a vision of a big hand writin' on de sky, an' a voice say, '_Eat up
+de balance ef anything is found wantin'_!' an' wid dat, dey plunged in
+like a herd o' swine boun' for de sea, an' dey devoured de fragmints an'
+popped mo' corks, an' dipped out mo' champagne wine, an' de mo' dey
+dipped out champagne wine, de mo' dey 'd dance. An' de mo' dey 'd dance,
+de mo' de wine would flow."
+
+Possibly the old woman's obvious confusion of thought has some
+explanation in the fact of the presence of the governor of the State,
+who, introduced as a high dignitary, did make a little speech late that
+night, thanking the colored people in terms of compliment for their
+dancing; and any impression made here was so quickly overlaid by the
+deeper experiences of the war that a blending can easily be explained.
+
+There was a shower of coins--"picayunes" only--thrown during the evening
+by the master, a feature of the dance being to recover as many of them
+as possible without breaking step. So the old woman's memory is not so
+far afield, although as a historian she might need a little editing. But
+such even as this is much of the so-called "history" which, bound in
+calf, dishonors the world's libraries to-day.
+
+It is so easy, seeing cobwebs upon a record,--cobwebs which may not be
+quite construed as alphabet,--to interpret them as hieroglyphics of
+import, instead of simply brushing them away, or relegating them, where
+they belong, to the dusky domain of the myth out of which we may expect
+only weird suggestion, as from the mold of pressed rosemary, typifying
+remembrance dead.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The house-party, which in this poor retrospect seems to have devoted
+itself almost wholly to pleasure, was nevertheless followed by immediate
+work upon the project in behalf of which it was planned.
+
+With this main motive was also the ulterior and most proper one in
+Harold's mind of introducing his wife in so intimate a fashion to some
+of the important members of society, who would date life-friendships
+from the pleasant occasion of helping him to open his own door to them.
+
+Some thousands of dollars went into the quicksands of the marshes before
+the foundations were laid for the arch of a proposed great bridge,
+beneath which his boats should sail to their landing. With the arrogant
+bravado of an impulsive boy challenged to action, he began his arch
+first. Its announcement of independence and munificence would express
+the position he had taken. Sometimes it is well to put up a bold front,
+even if one needs work backward from it.
+
+Harold moved fast--but the gods of war moved faster!
+
+Scarcely had a single column of solid masonry risen above the palmetto
+swamp when Fort Sumter's guns sounded. The smell of gunpowder penetrated
+the fastnesses of the brake, and yet, though his nostrils quivered like
+those of an impetuous war-horse, the master held himself in rein with
+the thought of her who would be cruelly alone without him. And he said
+to himself, while he reared his arch: "Two out of three are enough! I
+have taken their terror island for my portion. They may have garlands
+upon my bridge--when they come sailing up my canal as heroes!"
+
+But the next whiff from the battleground stopped work on the arch. The
+brothers had fallen side by side.
+
+[Illustration: "The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his
+beloved, dashed to the front"]
+
+Madly seizing both the recovered swords, declaring he would "fight as
+three," the brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, put
+one of her hands in Hannah's and the other in Israel's, and, commending
+them to God by a speechless lift of his dark eyes, mounted his horse and
+dashed, as one afraid to look back, to the front.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+Every one knows the story of "poor Harold Le Duc"--how, captured,
+wounded, he lay for more than a year on the edge of insanity in a
+Federal hospital. Every one knows of the birth of his child on the
+lonely island, with only black hands to receive and tend it, and how the
+waiting mother, guarded by the faithful two, and loved by the three
+hundred loyal slaves who prayed for her life, finally passed out of it
+on the very day of days for which she had planned a great Christmas
+banquet for them in honor of their master's triumphant return.
+
+The story is threadbare. Everyone knows how it happened that "the old
+people," Colonel and Madame Le Duc, having taken flight upon report of a
+battle, following their last son, had crossed the lines and been unable
+from that day to communicate with the island; of the season of the
+snake-plague in the heart of the brake, when rattlers and copperheads,
+spreading-adders, moccasins, and conger-eels came up to the island,
+squirming, darting, or lazily sunning themselves in its flowering
+grounds and lily-ponds, some even finding their way into the very beds
+of the people; when the trees were deserted of birds, and alligators
+prowled across the terraces, depredating the poultry-yard and even
+threatening the negro children.
+
+In the presence of so manifold disaster many of the negroes returned to
+voodooism, and nude dances by weird fires offered to Satan supplanted
+the shouting of the name of Christ in the churches. A red streak in the
+sky over the brake was regarded as an omen of blood--the thunderbolt
+which struck the smoke-stack of the sugar-house a command to stop work.
+
+Old women who had treated the sick with savory teas of roots and herbs
+lapsed into conjuring with bits of hair and bones. A rabbit's foot was
+more potent than medicine; a snake's tooth wet with swamp scum and dried
+in the glare of burning sulphur more to be feared than God.
+
+War, death and birth and death again, followed by scant provender
+threatening famine, and then by the invasion of serpents, had struck
+terror into hearts already tremulous and half afraid.
+
+The word "freedom" had scarcely reached the island and set the air
+vibrating with hope, commingled with dread, when the reported death of
+the master came as a grim corroboration of the startling prospect.
+
+All this is an open story.
+
+But how Israel and Hannah, aided in their flight by a faithful few,
+slipped away one dark night, carrying the young child with them to bear
+her safely to her father's people, knowing nothing of their absence,
+pending the soldier's return--for the two never believed him dead; how,
+when they had nearly reached the rear lands of the paternal place, they
+were met by an irresistible flood which turned them back; and how,
+barely escaping with their lives, they were finally rowed in a skiff
+quite through the hall of the great house--so high, indeed, that Mammy
+rescued a family portrait from the wall as they passed; how the baby
+slept through it all, and the dog followed, swimming--
+
+This is part of the inside history never publicly told.
+
+The little party was taken aboard a boat which waited midstream, a tug
+which became so overcrowded that it took no account of passengers whom
+it carried safely to the city. Of the poor forlorn lot, a few found
+their way back to the plantations in search of survivors, but in most
+instances, having gone too soon, they returned disheartened.
+
+Madame Le Duc, who, with her guests and servants, had fled from the
+homestead at the first warning, did not hear for months of the flight of
+the old people with her grandchild, and of their supposed fate. No one
+doubted that all three had perished in the river, and the news came as
+tardy death tidings again--tidings arriving after the manner of war
+news, which often put whole families in and out of mourning, in and out
+of season.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+There is not space here to dwell upon Harold's final return to Brake
+Island, bent and broken, unkempt,--disguised by the marks of sorrow,
+unrecognized, as he had hoped to be, of the straggling few of his own
+negroes whom he encountered camping in the wood, imprisoned by fear.
+These, mistaking him for a tramp, avoided him. He had heard the news _en
+route_,--the "news," then several years old,--and had, nevertheless,
+yielded to a sort of blind, stumbling fascination which drew him back to
+the scene of his happiness and his despair. Here, after all, was the
+real battle-field--and he was again vanquished.
+
+When he reached the homestead, he found it wholly deserted. The "big
+house," sacred to superstition through its succession of tragedies, was
+as Mammy and Israel had left it. Even its larder was untouched, and the
+key of the wine-cellar lay imbedded in rust in sight of the cob-webbed
+door.
+
+It was a sad man, prematurely gray, and still gaunt--and white with the
+pallor of the hospital prison--who, after this sorrowful pilgrimage to
+Brake Island, appeared, as from the grave, upon the streets of New
+Orleans. When he was reinstated in his broken home, and known once more
+of his family and friends, he would easily have become the popular hero
+of the hour, for the gay world flung its gilded doors open to him.
+
+The Latin temperament of old New Orleans kept always a song in her
+throat, even through all the sad passages of her history; and there was
+never a year when the French quarter, coquette that she was, did not
+shake her flounces and dance for a season with her dainty toes against
+the lower side of Canal Street.
+
+But Harold was not a fellow of forgetful mind. The arch of his life was
+broken, it is true, but like that of the bridge he had begun--a bridge
+which was to invite the gay world, yes, but which would ever have
+dominated it, letting its sails pass under--he could be no other than a
+worthy ruin. Had his impetuous temper turned upon himself on his return
+to the island, where devastation seemed to mock him at every turn, there
+is no telling where it might have driven him. But a lonely mother, and
+the knowledge that his father had died of a broken heart upon the report
+of his death, the last of his three sons--the pathetic, dependence of
+his mother upon him--the appeal of her doting eyes and the exigencies of
+an almost hopeless financial confusion--all these combined as a
+challenge to his manhood to take the helm in the management of a wrecked
+estate.
+
+It was a saving situation. How often is work the great savior of men!
+
+Once stirred in the direction of effort, Harold soon developed great
+genius for the manipulation of affairs. Reorganization began with his
+control.
+
+Square-shouldered and straight as an Indian, clear of profile,
+deep-eyed, and thoughtful of visage, the young man with the white hair
+was soon a marked figure. When even serious men "went foolish over him,"
+it is not surprising that ambitious mothers of marriageable daughters,
+in these scant days of dearth of men, should have exhibited occasional
+fluttering anxieties while they placed their broken fortunes in his
+hands.
+
+Reluctantly at first, but afterward seeing his way through experience,
+Harold became authorized agent for some of the best properties along the
+river, saving what was left, and sometimes even recovering whole estates
+for the women in black who had known before only how to be good and
+beautiful in the romantic homes and gardens whose pervading perfume had
+been that of the orange-blossom.
+
+It was on returning hurriedly from a trip to one of these places on the
+upper river--the property of one Marie Estelle Josephine Ramsey de La
+Rose, widowed at "Yellow Tavern"--that he sought the ferry skiff on the
+night old man Israel answered the call.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Little the old man dreamed, while he waited, midstream, trying to think
+out his problem, that the solution was so near at hand.
+
+We have seen how the old wife waited and prayed on the shore; how with
+her shaded mind she groped, as many a wiser has done, for a comforting,
+common-sense understanding of faith, that intangible "substance of
+things hoped for," that elusive "evidence of things not seen."
+
+In a moment after she heard the creaking of the timbers as the skiff
+chafed the landing, even while she rose, as was her habit, to see who
+might be coming over so late, she dimly perceived two men approaching,
+Israel and another; and presently she saw that Israel held the man's
+hand and that he walked unsteadily.
+
+She started, fearing that her man was hurt; but before she could find
+voice of fear or question, Israel had drawn the stranger to her and was
+saying in a broken voice:
+
+"Hannah! Hannah! Heah Mars' Harol'!"
+
+Only a moment before, with her dim eyes fixed upon the sky, she had
+experienced a realization of faith, and believed herself confidently
+awaiting her master's coming. And yet, seeing him now in the flesh
+before her, she exclaimed:
+
+"What foolishness is dis, ole man? Don't practice no jokes on me
+to-night, Isrul!"
+
+Her voice was almost gruff, and she drew back as she spoke. But even
+while she protested, Harold had laid his hand upon her arm.
+
+"Mammy," he whispered huskily, "don't you know your 'indurin' devil'--?"
+(This had been her last, worst name for her favorite during his mischief
+period.)
+
+Harold never finished his sentence. The first sound of his voice had
+identified him, but the shock had confused her. When at last she sobbed
+"Hush! I say, hush!" her arms were about his knees and she was crying
+aloud.
+
+[Illustration: "Her arms were about his knees"]
+
+"Glo-o-o--oh--glo-o-o--glo-o-ry! Oh, my Gord!" But presently, wiping her
+eyes, she stammered: "What kep' you so, Baby? Hol' me up, chile--hol'
+me!"
+
+She was falling, but Harold steadied her with strong arms, pressing her
+into her chair, but retaining her trembling hand while he sat upon the
+low table beside her.
+
+He could not speak at once, but, seeing her head drop upon her bosom, he
+called quickly to Israel. For answer, a clarion note, in no wise muffled
+by the handkerchief from which it issued, came from the woodpile. Israel
+was shy of his emotions and had hidden himself.
+
+By the time he appeared, sniffling, Hannah had rallied, and was pressing
+Harold from her to better study his face at long range.
+
+"What happened to yo' hair, Baby?" she said presently. "Hit looks as
+bright as dat flaxion curl o' yoze I got in my Testamen'. I was lookin'
+at it only a week ago las' Sunday, an' wishin' I could read de book
+'long wid de curl."
+
+"It is much lighter than that, Mammy. It is whiter than yours. I have
+lived the sorrows of a long life in a few years."
+
+Israel still stood somewhat aside and was taking no note of their
+speech, which he presently interrupted nervously:
+
+"H-how you reckon Mars' Harol' knowed me, Hannah? He--he reco'nized his
+horn! You ricollec' when I fotched dat horn f'om de islan' roun' my
+neck, clean 'crost de flood, you made game o' me, an' I say I mought
+have need of it? But of co'se I didn't ca'culate to have it ac-_chilly_
+call Mars' Harol' home! I sho' didn't! But dat's what it done. Cep'n'
+for de horn's call bein' so familius, he'd 'a' paid me my dime like a
+stranger an' passed on."
+
+At this Harold laughed.
+
+"Sure enough, Uncle Israel; you didn't collect my ferriage, did you? I
+reckon you'll have to charge that."
+
+Israel chuckled:
+
+"Lord, Hannah, listen! Don't dat soun' like ole times? Dey don't charge
+nothin' in dese han'-to-mouf days, Marse Harol'--not roun' heah."
+
+"But tell me, Uncle Israel, how did you happen to bring that old horn
+with you--sure enough?" Harold interrupted.
+
+"I jes fotched it _'ca'se I couldn't leave it_--de way Hannah snatched
+yo' po'trit off de wall--all in dat deluge. Hit's heah in de cabin now
+to witness de trip. But in co'se o' time de horn, hit come handy when I
+tuk de ferry-skift.
+
+"Well, Hannah, when he stepped aboa'd, he all but shuk de ole skift to
+pieces. I ought to knowed dat Le Duc high-step, but I didn't. I jes felt
+his tread, an' s'luted him for a gentleman, an' axed him for Gord sake
+to set down befo' we'd be capsided in de river. I war n't cravin' to
+git drownded wid no aristoc'acy.
+
+"De moon she was hidin', dat time, an' we couldn't see much; but he
+leant over an' he say, 'Uncle,' he say, 'who blowed dat horn 'crost de
+river?' An' I say, 'Me, sir. I blowed it.' Den he say, 'Whose horn _is_
+dat?' An' I 'spon', 'Hit's _my_ horn, sir.' Den my conscience begin to
+gnaw, an' I sort o' stammered, 'Leastways, it b'longs to a frien' o'
+mine wha' look like he ain't nuver gwine to claim it.' I ain't say who
+de frien' was, but d'rec'ly he pushed me to de wall. He ax me p'intedly
+to my face, 'What yo' frien' name, uncle?' An at dat I got de big head
+an' I up an' snap out:
+
+"'Name Le Duc, sir, Harry Le Duc.'
+
+"Jes free an' easy, so, I say it. Lord have mussy! Ef I'd s'picioned dat
+was Mars' Harol' settin' up dar listenin' at me callin' his name so
+sociable an' free, I'd 'a' drapped dem oa's overbo'ad. I sho' would.
+
+"Well, when I say 'Harry Le Duc,' seem like he got kind o' seasick, de
+way he bent his head down, an' I ax him how he come on--ef he got de
+miz'ry anywhars. An' wid dat he sort o' give out a dry laugh, an' den
+what you reckon he ax me? He say, 'Uncle, is you married?' An' wid dat
+_I_ laughed. 'T war n't no trouble for me to laugh at dat. I 'spon',
+'Yas, sirree! You bet I is! Does I look like air rovin' bachelor?' I was
+jes about half mad by dis time.
+
+"Well, so he kep' on quizzifyin' me: ax me whar I live, an' I tol' 'im I
+was a ole risidenter on de levee heah for five years past; an' so we run
+on, back an' fo'th, tell we teched de sho'. An' time de skift bumped de
+landin' he laid his han' on me an' he say, 'Unc' Isrul, whar's Mammy
+Hannah?' An' den--bless Gord! I knowed him! But I ain't trus' myself to
+speak. I des nachelly clawed him an' drug him along to you. I seen de
+fulfilment o' promise, an' my heart was bustin' full, but I ain't got no
+halleluiah tongue like you. I jes passed him along to you an' made for
+de woodpile!"
+
+It was a great moment for Harold, this meeting with the only people
+living who could tell all there was to know of those who were gone.
+
+Hannah's memory was too photographic for judicious reminiscence. The
+camera's great imperfection lies in its very accuracy in recording
+non-essentials, with resulting confusion of values. So the old woman,
+when she turned her mental search-light backward, "beginning at the
+beginning," which to Harold seemed the end of all--the day of his
+departure,--recounted every trivial incident of the days, while Harold
+listened through the night, often suffering keenly in his eagerness to
+know the crucial facts, yet fearing to interrupt her lest some precious
+thing be lost.
+
+A reflected sunrise was reddening the sky across the river when she
+reached the place in the story relating to the baby. Her description
+needed not any coloring of love to make it charming, and while he
+listened the father murmured under his breath:
+
+"And then to have lost her!"
+
+"What dat you say, Marse Harol'?" Hannah gasped, her quick ears having
+caught his despairing tone.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Mammy. Go on. It did seem cruel to have the little one
+drowned. But I don't blame you. It is a miracle that you old people
+saved yourselves."
+
+The old woman turned to her husband and threw up her hands.
+
+"Wh-why, Isrul!" she stammered.
+
+"What's de matter wid you--to set heah all night an' listen at me
+talkin' all roun' de baby--an' ain't named her yit!"
+
+She rose and, drawing Harold after her, entered the door at her back. As
+she pulled aside the curtain a ray of sunlight fell full upon the
+sleeping child.
+
+"Heah yo' baby, Baby!" Her low voice, steadied by its passages through
+greater crises, was even and gentle.
+
+She laid her hand upon the child.
+
+"Wek up, baby! Wek up!" she cried. "Yo' pa done come! Wek up!"
+
+Without stirring even so much as a thread of her golden hair upon the
+pillow, the child opened a pair of great blue eyes and looked from
+Mammy's face to the man's. Then,--so much surer is a child's faith than
+another's,--doubting not at all, she raised her little arms.
+
+Her father, already upon his knees beside her, bent over, bringing his
+neck within her embrace, while he inclosed her slender body with his
+arms. Thus he remained, silent, for a moment, for the agony of his joy
+was beyond tears or laughter. But presently he lifted his child, and,
+sitting, took her upon his lap. He could not speak yet, for while he
+smoothed her beautiful hair and studied her face, noting the blue depths
+of her darkly fringed eyes, the name that trembled for expression within
+his lips was "Agnes--Agnes."
+
+"How beautiful she is!" he whispered presently; and then, turning to
+Hannah, "And how carefully you have kept her! Everything--so sweet."
+
+"Oh, yas!" the old woman hastened to answer. "We ain't spared no pains
+on 'er, Marse Harol'. She done had eve'ything we could git for her, by
+hook or by crook. Of co'se she ain't had no _white kin_ to christen her,
+an' dat was a humiliation to us. She didn't have no to say legal person
+to bring 'er for'ard, so she ain't nuver been _ca'yed up in church_; but
+she's had every sort o' christenin' we could reach.
+
+"I knowed yo' pa's ma, ole Ma'am Toinette, she'd turn in her grave
+lessen her gran'chil' was christened Cat'lic, so I had her christened
+dat way. Dat ole half-blind priest, Father Some'h'n' other, wha' comes
+from Bayou de Glaise, he was conductin' mass meetin' or some'h'n' other,
+down here in Bouligny, an' I took de baby down, an' he sprinkled her in
+Latin or some'h'n' other, an' ornamented behind her ears wid unctious
+ile, an' crossed her little forehead, an' made her eat a few grains o'
+table salt. He _done it straight_, wid all his robes on, an' I g'in him
+a good dollar, too. An' dat badge you see on her neck, a sister o'
+charity, wid one o' dese clair-starched ear-flap sunbonnets on, she put
+dat on her. She say she give it to her to wear so 's she could n't git
+drownded--_like as ef I'd let her drownd_. Yit an' still I lef' it so,
+an' I even buys a fresh blue ribbin for it, once-t an'a while. I hear
+'em say dat blue hit's de Hail Mary color--an' it becomes her eyes, too.
+Dey say what don't pizen fattens, an' I know dem charms couldn't do her
+no hurt, an', of 'co'se, we don't know all. Maybe dey mought ketch de
+eye of a hoverin' angel in de air an' bring de baby into Heavenly
+notice. Of co'se, I wouldn't put no sech as dat on her. I ain't been
+raised to it, an' I ain't no beggin' hycoprite. But I wouldn't take it
+off, nuther.
+
+"Den, I knowed ole Mis', yo' ma, she was 'Pistopal, an' Miss Aggie she
+was Numitarium; so every time a preacher'd be passin' I'd git him to
+perform it his way. Me bein' Baptis' I didn't have no nigger baptism to
+saddle on her.
+
+"So she's bounteously baptized--yas, sir. I reasoned it out dat ef dey's
+only one _true_ baptism, an' I war n't to say _shore_ which one it was,
+I better git 'em all, an' only de _onlies'_ true one would _count_; an'
+den ag'in, ef all honest baptisms is good, den de mo' de merrier, as de
+Book say. Of co'se I knowed pyore rain-water sprinkled on wid a blessin'
+couldn't hurt no chile.
+
+"You see, when one side de house is _French distraction_ an' de yether
+is _English to-scent_, an' dey's a dozen side-nations wid _blood to
+tell_ in all de branches,--well, hit minds me o' dis _ba'm of a thousan'
+flowers_ dat ole Mis' used to think so much of. Hits hard to 'stinguish
+out any one flagrams.
+
+"But talkin' about de baby, she ain't been deprived, no mo' 'n de Lord
+deprived her, for a season, of her rights to high livin' an'--an'
+aristoc'acy--an'--an' petigree, an' posterity, an' all sech as dat.
+
+"An'--
+
+"What dat you say, Mars' Harol'? What _name_ is we--'
+
+"We ain't dast to give 'er no name, Baby, no mo' 'n jes Blossom. I got
+'er wrote down in five citi_fic_ates 'Miss Blossom,' jes so. No, sir. I
+knows my colored place, an' I'll go so far, an' dat's all de further.
+She was jes as much a blossom befo' she was christened as she was
+arterwards, so my namin' 'er don't count. I was 'mos' tempted to call
+out 'Agnes' to de preachers, when dey'd look to me for a name, seem' it
+was her right--like as ef she was borned to it; but--I ain't nuver
+imposed on her. No, sir, we ain't imposed on her noways.
+
+"De on'iest wrong I ever done her--an' Gord knows I done it to save her
+to my arms, an' for you, marster--de on'iest wrong was to let her go
+widout her little sunbonnet an' git her skin browned up so maybe nobody
+wouldn't s'picion she was clair white an' like as not try to wrest her
+from me. An' _one_ time, when a uppish yo'ng man ast me her name, I
+said it straight, but I see him look mighty cu'yus, an' I spoke up an'
+say, 'What other name you 'spect' her to have? My name is Hannah Le Duc,
+an' I's dat child's daddy's mammy.' Excuse me, Mars' Harold, but you
+know I _is_ yo' _black_ mammy--_an' I was in so'e straits_.
+
+"So de yo'ng man, well, he didn't seem to have no raisin'. He jes sort
+o' whistled, an' say I sho is got one mighty blon' gran'chil'--an' I
+'spon', 'Yas, sir; so it seems.'
+
+"An' dat's de on'ies' wrong I ever done her. She sets up at her little
+dinner-table sot wid a table-cloth an' a white napkin,--an' I done buyed
+her a ginuine silver-plated napkin-ring to hold it in, too,--an' she
+says her own little blessin'--dat short 'Grace o' Gord--material
+binefets,' one o' Miss Aggie's; I learned it to her. No, she ain't been
+handled keerless, ef she is been livin' on de outside o' de levee, like
+free niggers. But we ain't to say _lived_ here, 'not perzackly,
+marster. We jes been waitin' along, _so_, dese five years--waitin' for
+to-night.
+
+"I ain't nuver sorted her clo'es out into no bureau; I keeps 'em all in
+her little trunk, perpared to move along."
+
+For a moment the realization of the culmination of her faith seemed to
+suffuse her soul, and as she proceeded, her voice fell in soft, rhythmic
+undulations.
+
+"Ya-as, Mars' Harol', Mammy's baby boy, yo' ol' nuss she been waitin',
+an' o-ole man Isrul _he_ been waitin', an' de Blossom _she_ been
+waitin'. I 'spec' she had de firmes' faith, arter all, de baby did. Day
+by day we all waited--an' night by night. An' sometimes when courage
+would burn low an' de lamp o' faith grow dim, seem like we'd a' broke
+loose an' started a-wanderin' in a sort o' blind search, _'cep'n' for de
+river_.
+
+"Look like ef we'd ever went beyan' de river's call, we'd been same as
+de chillen o' Isrul lost in de tanglement o' de wilderness. All we river
+chillen, we boun' to stay by her, same as toddlin' babies hangs by a
+mammy's skirts. She'll whup us one day, an' chastise us severe; den
+she'll bring us into de light, same as she done to-night--same as reel
+mammies does.
+
+"An', Mars' Harol'--"
+
+She lowered her voice.
+
+"Mars' Harol', don't tell me she don't know! I tell yer, me an' dis
+River we done spent many a dark night together under de stars, an' we
+done talked an' answered one another so many lonely hours--an' she done
+showed us so many mericles on land _an'_ water--
+
+"I tell yer, I done found out some'h'n' about de River, Mars' Harol'.
+She's--why, she's--
+
+"Oh, ef I could only write it all down to go in a book! We been th'ough
+some _merac'lous_ times together, sho' 's you born--sho' 's you born.
+
+"She's a mericle mystery, sho'!
+
+"You lean over an' dip yo' han' in her an' you take it up an' you say
+it's _wet_. You dig yo' oars into her, an' she'll spin yo' boat over her
+breast. You dive down into her, an' you come up--_or don't come up_.
+Some eats her. Some drinks her. Some gethers wealth outen her. Some
+draps it into her. Some drownds in her.
+
+"An' she gives an' takes, an' seem like all her chillen gits
+satisfaction outen her, one way an' another; but yit an' still, she
+ain't nuver flustered. On an' on she goes--rain or shine--high
+water--low water--all de same--on an' on.
+
+"When she craves diamonds for her neck, she reaches up wid long
+onvisible hands an' gethers de stars out'n de firmamint.
+
+"De moon is her common breastpin, an' de sun--
+
+"Even he don't faze her. She takes what she wants, an' sends back his
+fire every day.
+
+"De mists is a veil for her face, an' de showers fringes it.
+
+"Sunrise or dusklight, black night or midday, every change she answers
+_whilst she's passin'_.
+
+"But who ever _in_ticed her to stop or to look or listen? Nobody, Baby.
+An' why?
+
+"Oh, Lord! ef eve'ybody only knowed!
+
+"You see, all sech as dat, I used to study over it an' ponder befo' we
+started to talk back an' fo'th--de River an' me.
+
+"One dark night she heared me cryin' low on de bank, whilst de ole man
+stepped into de boat to row 'crost de water, an' she felt Wood-duck
+settle heavy on her breast, an' she seen dat we carried de same
+troublous thought--searchin' an' waitin' for the fulfilment o' promise.
+
+"An' so we started to call--an' to answer, heart to heart."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The story is nearly told. No doubt many would be willing to have it stop
+here. But a tale of the river is a tale of greed, and must have
+satisfaction.
+
+While father and child sat together, Israel came, bringing fresh chips.
+He had been among the woodpiles again. This time there followed him the
+dog.
+
+"Why, Blucher!" Harold exclaimed. "Blucher, old fellow!" And at his
+voice the dog, whining and sniffing, climbed against his shoulder, even
+licking his face and his hand. Then, running off, he barked at Israel
+and Hannah, telling them in fine dog Latin who the man was who had come.
+Then he crouched at his feet, and, after watching his face a moment,
+laid his head upon his master's right foot, a trick Harold had taught
+him as a pup.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+Of course Harold wished to take the entire family home with him at once,
+and would hear to nothing else until Hannah, serving black coffee to him
+from her furnace, in the dawn, begged that she and Israel might have "a
+few days to rest an' to study" before moving.
+
+It was on the second evening following this, at nightfall, while her man
+was away in his boat, that the old woman rose from her chair and, first
+studying the heavens and then casting about her to see that no one was
+near, she went down to the water, slowly picking her way to a shallow
+pool between the rafts and the shore. She sat here at first, upon the
+edge of the bank, frankly dropping her feet into the water while she
+seemed to begin to talk--or possibly she sang, for the low sound which
+only occasionally rose above the small noises of the rafts was faintly
+suggestive of a priest's intoning.
+
+For a moment only, she sat thus. Then she began to lower herself into
+the water, until, leaning, she could lay her face against the sod, so
+that a wave passed over it, and when, letting her weight go, she
+subsided, with arms extended, into the shallow pool, a close listener
+might have heard an undulating song, so like the river's in tone as to
+be separable from it only through the faint suggestion of words,
+interrupted or drowned at intervals by the creaking and knocking of the
+rafts and the gurgling of the sucking eddies about them.
+
+The woman's voice--song, speech, or what not?--_seemed_ intermittent, as
+if in converse with another presence.
+
+Suddenly, while she stood thus, she dropped bodily, going fully under
+the water for a brief moment, as if renewing her baptism, and when she
+presently lifted herself, she was crying aloud, sobbing as a child sobs
+in the awful momentary despair of grief at the untwining of
+arms--shaken, unrestrained.
+
+While she stood thus for a few minutes only,--a pathetic waste of
+sorrow, wet, dark and forlorn, alone on the night-shore,--a sudden wind,
+a common evening current, threw a foaming wave over the logs beside her
+so that its spray covered her over; while the straining ropes, breaking
+and bumping timbers, with the slow dripping of the spent wave through
+the raft, seemed to answer and possibly to assuage her agitation; for,
+as the wind passed and the waters subsided, she suddenly grew still,
+and, climbing the bank as she had come, walked evenly as one at peace,
+into her cabin.
+
+No one will ever know what, precisely, was the nature of this last
+communion. Was it simply an intimate leave-taking of a faithful
+companionship grown dear through years of stress? Or had it deeper
+meaning in a realization--or hallucination--as to the personality of the
+river--the "secret" to which she only once mysteriously referred in a
+gush of confidence on her master's return?
+
+Perhaps she did not know herself, or only vaguely felt what she could
+not tell. Certainly not even to her old husband, one with her in life
+and spirit, did she try to convey this mystic revelation. We know by
+intuition the planes upon which our minds may meet with those of our
+nearest and dearest. To the good man and soldier, Israel,--the prophet,
+even, who held up the wavering hands of the imaginative woman when her
+courage waned, pointing to the hour of fulfilment,--the great river,
+full of potencies for good or ill, could be only a river. As a mirror it
+had shown him divinity, and in its character it might _typify_ to his
+image-loving mind another thing which service would make it precious.
+But what he would have called his sanity--had he known the word--would
+have obliged him to stop there.
+
+The stars do not tell, and the poor moon--at best only hinting what the
+sun says--is fully half-time off her mind. And the SOUL OF THE
+RIVER--if, indeed, it has once broken silence--may not speak again.
+
+And, so, her secret is safe--safe even if the broken winds did catch a
+breath, here and there, sending it flurriedly through and over the logs
+until they trembled with a sort of mad harp-consciousness, and were set
+a-quivering for just one full strain--one coherent expression of
+soul-essence--when the wave broke. Perhaps the arms of the twin spirits
+were untwined--and they went their separate ways smiling--the woman and
+the river.
+
+When, after a short time, the old wife came out, dressed in fresh
+clothing, her white, starched tignon shining in the moonlight, to sit
+and talk with her husband, her composure was as perfect as that of the
+face of the water which in its serenity suggested the voice of the
+Master, when Peter would have sunk but for his word.
+
+This was to be their last night here. Harold was to bring a carriage on
+the next day to take them to his mother and Blossom, and, despite the
+joy in their old hearts, it cost them a pang to contemplate going away.
+Every woodpile seemed to hold a memory, each feature of the bank a
+tender association. Blucher lay sleeping beside them.
+
+Israel spoke first.
+
+"Hannah!" he said.
+
+"What, Isrul?"
+
+"I ready to go home to-night, Hannah. Marse Harol' done come. We done
+finished our 'sponsibility--an' de big river's a-flowin' on to de
+sea--an' settin' heah, I 'magines I kin see Mis' Aggie lookin' down on
+us, an' seem like she mought want to consult wid us arter our meetin'
+wid Marse Harol' an' we passin' Blossom along. What you say, Hannah?"
+
+"I been tired, ole man, an' ef we could 'a' went las' night, like you
+say, seem like I 'd 'a' been ready--an', of co'se, I'm ready now, ef
+Gord wills. Peace is on my sperit. Yit an' still, when we rests off a
+little an' studies freedom free-handed, we won't want to hasten along
+maybe. Ef we was to set heah an' wait tell Gord calls us,--He ain't ap'
+to call us bofe together, an' dey'd be lonesome days for the last one.
+But ef we goes 'long wid Marse Harol', he an' Blossom'll be a heap o'
+comfort to de one what's left."
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"We's a-settin' to-night close to de brink--ain't dat so?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"An' de deep waters is in sight, eh, Hannah?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"An' we heah it singin', ef we listen close, eh, Hannah?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"Well, don't let 's forgit it, dat 's all. Don't let's forgit, when we
+turns our backs on dis swellin' tide, dat de river o' Jordan is jes
+befo' us, all de same--an' it can't be long befo' our crossin'-time."
+
+"Amen!" said the woman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moon shone full upon the great river, making a shimmering path of
+light from shore to shore, when the old couple slowly rose and went to
+rest.
+
+Toward morning there was a quick gurgling sound in front of the cabin.
+Blucher caught it, and, springing out, barked at the stars. The sleepers
+within the levee hut slept on, being overweary.
+
+The watchman in the Carrollton garden heard the sound,--heard it swell
+almost to a roar,--and he ran to the new levee, reaching its summit just
+in time to see the roof of the cabin as it sank, with the entire point
+of land upon which it rested, into the greedy flood.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Harold Le Duc arrived that morning to take the old people home, the
+river came to meet him at the brim of the near bank, and its face was as
+the face of smiling innocence.
+
+While he stood awe-stricken before the awful fact so tragically
+expressed in the river's bland denial, a wet dog came, and, whining,
+crouched at his feet. He barked softly, laid his head a moment upon his
+master's boot, moaned a sort of confidential note, and, looking into the
+air, barked again, softly.
+
+Did he see more than he could tell? Was he trying to comfort his master?
+He had heard all the sweet converse of the old people on that last
+night, and perhaps he was saying in his poor best speech that all was
+well.
+
+Mammy Hannah and Uncle Israel, having discharged their responsibility,
+had crossed the River together.
+
+
+
+
+PART THIRD
+
+
+        "Oh, it 's windy,
+        Sweet Lucindy,
+    On de river-bank to-night,
+        An' de moontime
+        Beats de noontime,
+    When de trimblin' water 's white."
+
+So runs the plantation love-song, and so sang a great brown fellow as,
+with oars over his shoulder, he strolled down "Lovers' Lane," between
+the _bois d'arcs_, toward the Mississippi levee.
+
+He repeated it correctly until he neared the gourd-vine which marked the
+home of his lady, when he dropped his voice a bit and, eschewing rhyme
+for the greater value, sang:
+
+        "Oh, it 's windy,
+        Sweet Maria,
+    On de river-bank to-night--"
+
+And slackening his pace until he heard footsteps behind him, he stopped
+and waited while a lithe yellow girl overtook him languidly.
+
+"Heah, you take yo' sheer o' de load!" he laughed as he handed her one
+of the oars. "Better begin right. You tote half an' me half." And as she
+took the oar he added, "How is you to-night, anyhow, sugar-gal?"
+
+While he put his right arm around her waist, having shifted the
+remaining oar to his left side, the girl instinctively bestowed the one
+she carried over her right shoulder, so that her left arm was free for
+reciprocity, to which it naďvely devoted itself.
+
+"I tell yer, hit 's fine an' windy to-night, sho' enough," he said. "De
+breeze on de levee is fresh an' cool, an' de skift she's got a new
+yaller-buff frock, an' she--"
+
+"Which skift? De _Malviny_? Is you give her a fresh coat o' paint? An'
+dat's my favoryte color--yaller-buff!" This with a chuckle.
+
+"No; dey ain't no _Malviny_ skift no mo'--not on dis plantation. I done
+changed her name."
+
+"You is, is yer? What is you named her dis time?"
+
+She was preparing to express surprise in the surely expected. Of course
+the boat was renamed the _Maria_. What else, in the circumstances?
+
+"I painted her after a lady-frien's complexion, a bright, clair yaller;
+but as to de name--guess!" said the man, with a lunge toward the girl,
+as the oar he carried struck a tree--a lunge which brought him into
+position to touch her ear with his lips while he repeated: "What you
+reckon I named her, sweetenin'?"
+
+"How should I know? I ain't in yo' heart!"
+
+"You ain't, ain't yer? Ef you ain't, I'd like mighty well to know who
+is. You's a reg'lar risidenter, you is--an' you knows it, too! Guess
+along, gal. What you think de boat's named?"
+
+"Well, ef you persises for me to guess, I'll say _Silv' Ann_. Dat 's a
+purty title for a skift."
+
+"_Silv' Ann!_" contemptuously. "I 'clare, M'ria, I b'lieve you 's
+jealous-hearted. No, indeedy! I know I run 'roun' wid Silv' Ann awhile
+back, jes to pass de time, but she can't name none o' my boats! No; ef
+you won't guess, I'll tell yer--dat is, I'll give you a hint. She named
+for my best gal! _Now guess!_"
+
+"I never was no hand at guessin'." The girl laughed while she tossed her
+head. "Heah, take dis oah, man, an' lemme walk free. I ain't ingaged to
+tote no half-load _yit_--as I knows on. Lordy, but dat heavy paddle done
+put my whole arm to sleep. Ouch! boy. Hands off tell de pins an' needles
+draps out. I sho' is glad to go rowin' on de water to-night."
+
+So sure was she now of her lover, and of the honor which he tossed as a
+ball in his hands, never letting her quite see it, that she whimsically
+put away the subject.
+
+She had been to school several summers and could decipher a good many
+words, but most surely, from proud practice, she could spell her own
+name. As they presently climbed the levee together, she remarked, seeing
+the water: "Whar is de boat, anyhow--de What-you-may-call-it? She ain't
+in sight--not heah!"
+
+"No; she's a little piece up de current--in de willer-clump. I didn't
+want nobody foolin' wid 'er--an' maybe readin' off my affairs. She got
+her new intitlemint painted on her stern--every letter a different
+color, to match de way her namesake treats me--in a new light every
+day."
+
+The girl giggled foolishly. She seemed to see the contour of her own
+name, a bouquet of color reaching across the boat, and it pleased her.
+It would be a witness for her--to all who could read.
+
+"I sho' does like boats an' water," she generalized, as they walked on.
+
+"Me, too," agreed her lover; "but I likes anything--wid my chosen
+company. What is dat whizzin' past my face? Look like a honey-bee."
+
+"'T is a honey-bee. Dey comes up heah on account o' de chiny-flowers.
+But look out! Dat's another! You started 'em time you drug yo' oah in de
+mids' o' dem chiny-blossoms. Whenever de chiny-trees gits too sickenin'
+sweet, look out for de bees!"
+
+"Yas," chuckled de man; "an' dey's a lesson in dat, ef we'd study over
+it. Whenever life gits too sweet, look out for trouble! But we won't
+worry 'bout dat to-night. Is you 'feared o' stingin' bees?"
+
+"No, not whilst dey getherin' honey--dey too busy. Hit 's de idlers dat
+I shun. An' I ain't afeared o' trouble, nuther. Yit an' still, ef
+happiness is a sign, I better look sharp."
+
+"Is you so happy, my Sugar?"
+
+The girl laughed.
+
+"I don't know ef I is or not--I mus' see de name on dat skift befo' I
+can say. Take yo' han' off my wais', boy! Ef you don't I'll be 'feared
+o' stingin' bees, sho' enough! Don't make life _too_ sweet!"
+
+They were both laughing when the girl dashed ahead into the
+willow-clump, Love close at her heels, and in a moment the _Maria_, in
+her gleaming dress of yellow, darted out into the sunset.
+
+A boat or two had preceded them, and another followed presently, but it
+takes money to own a skiff, or even to build one of the driftwood, which
+is free to the captor. And so most of the couples who sought the river
+strolled for a short space, finding secluded seats on the rough-hewn
+benches between the acacia-trees or on the drift-dogs which lined the
+water's edge. It was too warm for continued walking.
+
+From some of the smaller vessels, easily recognizable as of the same
+family as the fruit-luggers which crowd around "Picayune Tier" at the
+French market, there issued sweet songs in the soft Italian tongue,
+often accompanied by the accordeon.
+
+Young Love sang on the water in half a dozen tongues, as he sings there
+yet at every summer eventide.
+
+The skiffs for the most part kept fairly close to the shore, skirting
+the strong current of the channel, avoiding, too, the large steamboats,
+whose passage ever jeopardized the small craft which crossed in their
+wake.
+
+Indeed, the passage of one of these great "packets" generally cleared
+the midstream, although a few venturesome oarsmen would often dare fate
+in riding the billows in her wake. These great steamboats were known
+among the humble river folk more for their wave-making power than for
+the proud features which distinguished them in their personal relations.
+
+There were those, for instance, who would watch for a certain great boat
+called the _Capitol_, just for the bravado of essaying the bubbling
+storm which followed her keel, while some who, enjoying their fun with
+less snap of danger, preferred to have their skiffs dance behind the
+_Laurel Hill_. Or perhaps it was the other way: it may have been the
+_Laurel Hill_, of the sphere-topped smoke-stacks, which made the more
+sensational passage.
+
+It all happened a long time ago, although only about thirteen years had
+passed since the events last related, and both boats are dead. At least
+they are out of the world of action, and let us hope they have gone to
+their rest. An old hulk stranded ashore and awaiting final dissolution
+is ever a pathetic sight, suggesting a patient paralytic in his chair,
+grimly biding fate--the waters of eternity at his feet.
+
+At intervals, this evening, fishermen alongshore--old negroes
+mostly--pottered among the rafts, setting their lines, and if the
+oarsmen listened keenly, they might almost surely have caught from these
+gentle toilers short snatches of low-pitched song, hymns mostly, of
+content or rejoicing.
+
+There was no sense of the fitness of the words when an ancient fisher
+sang "Sweet fields beyan' de swelling flood," or of humor in "How firm
+a foundation," chanted by one standing boot-deep in suspicious sands.
+The favorite hymn of several of the colored fishermen, however, seemed
+to be "Cometh our fount of every blessin'," frankly so pronounced with
+reverent piety.
+
+At a distant end of his raft, hidden from its owner by a jutting point
+from which they leaped, naked boys waded and swam, jeering the deaf
+singer as they jeered each passing boat, while occasionally an
+adventurous fellow would dive quite under a skiff, seizing his
+opportunity while the oars were lifted.
+
+None of the little rowboats carried sail as a rule, although sometimes a
+sloop would float by with an air of commanding a squadron of the sparse
+fleet which extended along the length of the river.
+
+The sun was fallen nearly to the levee-line this evening when one of the
+finest of the "river palaces" hove in sight.
+
+The sky-hour for "dousing the great glim" was so near--and the actual
+setting of the sun is always sudden--that, while daylight still
+prevailed, all the steamer's lights were lit, and although the keen sun
+which struck her as a search-light robbed her thousand lamps of their
+value, the whole scene was greater for the full illumination.
+
+The people along shore waved to the passing boat--they always do it--and
+the more amiable of the passengers answered with flying handkerchiefs.
+
+As she loomed radiant before them, an aged negro, sitting mending his
+net, remarked to his companion:
+
+"What do she look like to you, Br'er Jones?"
+
+"'What she look like to me?'" The man addressed took his pipe from his
+lips at the question. "What she look like--to me?" he repeated again.
+"Why, tell the trufe, I was jes' studyin' 'bout dat when you spoke. She
+'minds me o' Heaven; dat what she signifies to my eyes--Heavenly
+mansions. What do she look like to _you_?"
+
+"Well," the man shifted the quid in his mouth and lowered his shuttle as
+he said slowly, "well, to my observance, she don't answer for Heaven; I
+tell yer dat: not wid all dat black smoke risin' outen 'er 'bominable
+regions. She's mo' like de yether place to _me_. She may have Heavenly
+gyarments on, but she got a hell breath, sho'. An' listen at de band o'
+music playin' devil-dance time inside her! An' when she choose to let it
+out, she's got a-a-nawful snort--she sho' is!"
+
+"Does you mean de cali-ope?"
+
+"No; she ain't got no cali-ope. I means her clair whistle. Hit's got a
+jedgment-day sound in it to my ears."
+
+"Dat music you heah', dat ain't no dance-music. She plays dat for de
+passengers to eat by, so dey tell me. But I reckon dey jes p'onounces
+supper dat-a-way, same as you'd ring a bell. An' when de people sets
+down to de table, dey mus' sho'ly have de manners to stop long enough to
+let 'em eat in peace. Yit an' still, whilst she looks like Heaven, I'd a
+heap ruther set heah an' see her go by 'n to put foot in her, 'ca'se I'd
+look for her to 'splode out de minute I landed in her an' to scatter my
+body in one direction an' my soul somewhars else. No; even ef she was
+Heaven, I'd ruther 'speriment heah a little longer, settin' on de sof'
+grass an' smellin' de yearnin' trees an' listenin' at de bumblebees
+a-bumblin', an' go home an' warm up my bacon an' greens for supper, an'
+maybe go out foragin' for my Sunday chicken to-night in de dark o' de
+moon. Hyah! My stomach hit rings de dinner-bell for me, jes as good as a
+brass ban'."
+
+"Me, too!" chuckled the smoker. "I'll take my chances on dry lan', every
+time. I know I'll nuver lead a p'ocession but once-t, and dat'll be at
+my own fun'al, an' I don't inten' to resk my chances. But she is sho'
+one noble-lookin' boat."
+
+By this time the great steamboat--the wonderful apparition so aptly
+typifying Heaven and hell--had passed.
+
+She carried only the usual number of passengers, but at this evening
+hour they crowded the guards, making a brilliant showing. Family parties
+they were mostly, with here and there groups of young folk, generally
+collected about some popular girl who formed a center around which
+coquetry played mirthfully in the breeze. A piquant Arcadian bride,
+"pretty as red shoes," artlessly appearing in all her white wedding
+toggery, her veil almost crushed by its weight of artificial
+orange-flowers, looked stoically away from the little dark husband who
+persisted in fanning her vigorously, while they sat in the sun-filled
+corner which they had taken for its shade while the boat was turned into
+the landing to take them aboard. And, of course, there was the usual
+quota of staid couples who had survived this interesting stage of life's
+game.
+
+Nor was exhibition of rather intimate domesticity entirely missing.
+Infancy dined in Nature's own way, behind the doubtful screening of
+waving palmetto fans. While among the teething and whooping-cough
+contingents the observer of life might have found both tragedy and
+comedy for his delectation.
+
+Mild, submissive mothers of families, women of the Creole middle class
+mainly,--old and withered at thirty-five, all their youthful magnolia
+tints gone wrong, as in the flower when its bloom is passed--exchanged
+maternal experiences, and agreed without dissent that the world was full
+of trouble, but "God was good."
+
+Even a certain slight maternal wisp who bent over a tiny waxen thing
+upon her lap, dreading each moment to perceive the flicker in her breath
+which would show that a flame went out--even she, poor tear-dimmed soul,
+said it while she answered sympathetic inquiry:
+
+"Oh, yas; it is for her we are taking de trip. Yas, she is very sick,
+_mais God is good_. It is de eye-teet'. De river's breath it is de bes'
+medicine. De doctor he prescribe it. An' my father he had las' winter
+such a so much trouble to work his heart, an' so, seeing we were coming,
+he is also here--yas, dat's heem yonder, asleep. 'T is his most best
+sleep for a year, lying so. De river she give it. An' dose ferryboat dey
+got always on board too much whooping-cough to fasten on to eye-teet."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Somewhat apart from the other passengers, their circle loosely but
+surely defined by the irregular setting of their chairs toward a common
+center, sat a group, evidently of the great world--most conspicuous
+among them a distinguished-looking couple in fresh mid-life, who led the
+animated discussion, and who were seen often to look in the direction of
+a tall and beautiful girl who stood in the midst of a circle of young
+people within easy call. It was impossible not to see that their
+interest in the girl was vital, for they often exchanged glances when
+her laughter filled the air, and laughed with her, although they knew
+only that she had laughed.
+
+The girl stood well in sight, although "surrounded six deep" by an
+adoring crowd; nor was this attributable alone to her height which set
+her fine little head above most of her companions. A certain distinction
+of manner--unrelated to haughtiness, which may fail in effect, or
+arrogance, which may over-ride but never appeal; perhaps it was a
+graciousness of bearing--kept her admirers ever at a tasteful distance.
+
+There was an ineffable charm about the girl, a thing apart from the
+unusual beauty which marked her in any gathering of which she became a
+part.
+
+Descriptions are hazardous and available words often inadequate to the
+veracious presentment of beauty, and yet there is ever in perfection a
+challenge to the pen.
+
+As the maiden stood this evening in the sunlight, her radiant yellow
+hair complementing the blue of her sea-deep eyes, her fair cheeks
+aglow, and one color melting to another in her quick movements, the
+effect was almost like an iridescence. Tender in tints as a sea-shell,
+there might have been danger of lapse into insipidity but for the accent
+of dark rims and curled lashes which individualized the eyes, and, too,
+the strong, straight lines of her contour, which, more than the note of
+dark color, marked her a Le Duc.
+
+There are some women who naturally hold court, no matter what the
+conditions of life, and to whom tribute comes as naturally as the air
+they breathe. It often dates back into their spelling-class days, and I
+am not sure that it does not occasionally begin in the "perambulator."
+
+This magnetic quality--one hesitates to use an expression so nervously
+prostrated by strenuous overwork, and yet it is well made and to
+hand--this magnetic quality, then, was probably, in Agnes Le Duc, the
+gift of the Latin strain grafted upon New England sturdiness and
+reserve, the one answering, as one might say, for ballast, while the
+other lent sail for the equable poising of a safe and brilliant
+life-craft.
+
+So, also, was her unusual beauty markedly a composite and of elements so
+finely contrasting that their harmonizing seemed rather a succession of
+flashes, as of opposite electric currents meeting and breaking through
+the caprice of temperamental disturbance; as in the smile which won by
+its witchery, or the illumination with which rapid thought or sudden
+pity kindled her eye.
+
+Educated alternately in Louisiana where she had recited her history
+lessons in French, and in New England, the pride and pet of a charmed
+Cambridge circle, with occasional trips abroad with her "parents," she
+was emerging, all unknowingly, a rather exceptional young woman for any
+place or time.
+
+Seeing her this evening, an enthusiast might have likened her to the
+exquisite bud of a great tea-rose, regal on a slender stem--shy of
+unfolding, yet ultimately unafraid, even through the dewy veil of
+immaturity--knowing full well, though she might not stop to remember,
+the line of court roses in her pedigree.
+
+Watching her so at a safe distance, one could not help wondering that
+she thought it worth her while to listen at all, seeing how her admirers
+waited upon her every utterance. To listen well has long been considered
+a grace--just to listen; but there is a still higher art, perhaps, in
+going a step beyond. It is to listen with enthusiasm, yes, even with
+_eloquence_. One having a genius for this sort of oratory, speaking
+through the inspired utterance of another, and of course supplying the
+inspiration, gains easily the reputation of "delightful conversational
+powers."
+
+And this was precisely an unsuspected quality which made for the sweet
+girl much of the popularity which she had never analyzed or questioned.
+She _could_ talk, and in several languages, familiarly, and when the
+invitation arrived, she did--upward, with respect, to her elders (she
+had learned that both in New Orleans and in Boston); downward to her
+inferiors--with gentle directness, unmixed with over-condescension; to
+right and to left among her companions, quite as a free-hearted girl,
+with spirit and _camaraderie_.
+
+A quality, this, presaging social success certainly, and, it must be
+admitted, it is a quality which sometimes adorns natures wanting in
+depth of affection. That this was not true of Agnes Le Duc, however,
+seems to be clearly shown in an incident of this trip.
+
+As she stood with her companions this evening, while one and another
+commented upon this or that feature of the shore, they came suddenly
+upon a congregation of negroes encircling an inlet between two curves in
+the levee, and, as the low sun shone clearly into the crowd, it became
+immediately plain that a baptism was in progress.
+
+A line of women, robed in white, stood on one side; several men,
+likewise in white, on the other, while the minister, knee-deep in the
+water, was immersing a subject who shouted wildly as he went under and
+came up struggling as one in a fit, while two able-bodied men with
+difficulty bore him ashore.
+
+The scene was scarcely one to inspire reverence to a casual observer,
+and there was naturally some merriment at its expense. One playful
+comment led to another until a slashing bit of ridicule brought the
+entire ceremony into derision, and, as it happened, the remark with its
+accompanying mimicry was addressed to Agnes.
+
+"Oh, please!" she pleaded, coloring deeply. "I quite understand how it
+may affect you; but--oh, it is too serious for here--too personal and
+too sacred--"
+
+While she hesitated, the culprit, ready to crawl at her feet,--innocent,
+indeed, of the indelicacy of which he had become technically
+guilty,--begged to be forgiven. He had quite truly "meant no harm."
+
+"Oh, I am quite sure of it," the girl smiled; "but now that I have
+spoken,--and really I could not help it; I could not wish to let it
+pass, understand,--but now that I have spoken--oh, what shall I say!
+
+"Perhaps you will understand me when I tell you that I should not be
+with you here to-day but for the devoted care of two old Christian
+people who dated their joy in the spiritual life from precisely such a
+ceremony as this. They are in Heaven now.
+
+"My dear old Mammy often said that she 'went under the water groaning in
+sin, and came up shouting, a saved soul!' I seem to hear her again as I
+repeat the words, on this same river, in sight of her people and within
+the sound of their voices. I was small when she died, and I do not
+clearly remember many of her words; but this I do well recall, for we
+lived for some years on the river-bank, only a few miles from the spot
+where in her youth she had been immersed. She taught me to love the
+river, and perhaps I am a little sentimental over it. I hope always to
+be so. My father remembers many of her words. She was his nurse, too.
+She told him as a boy that she had insisted on being baptized in flowing
+water, so that her sins might be carried away to the sea. It was all
+very sacred to her."
+
+Of course the romantic story of Agnes's youth was known to every one
+present, and this unexpected allusion awakened immediate interest.
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied to a question; "I suppose I do remember a good
+deal, considering how very young I was, and yet I often wonder that I do
+not remember more, as it was all so unusual;" and then she added,
+laughing: "I seem to forget that no event could surprise a child _in her
+first experiences of life_. Yet I remember trivial things, as, for
+instance, the losing of a hat. I clearly recall our watching my hat on
+one occasion when it blew into the river, _and was never recovered_!
+Think of the tragedy of it! I can see it now, tossing like a little
+boat, as it floated away.
+
+"And the funny little cabin I remember--I know I do, for there were
+things which papa never saw, on the inside, in what he calls my
+'boudoir,' the white cabin, which I shall never forget. When anything is
+kept ever in mind by constant description, it is hard to know how much
+one really remembers. You know, papa spent only one night there and his
+thoughts were turned backward, so that he naturally kept only vague
+impressions of the place.
+
+"Yes, he has made a sketch of it from memory, and I am sorry. Why? Oh,
+because I was sure at first that it was not correct, and now it has come
+to stand to me in place of the true picture, which has faded. It is a
+way with pictures if we let them over-ride us. Why, my grandmother in
+Boston has a friend who had his wife's portrait painted after she was
+lost at sea. He spent all the money he had to have it done by a 'best
+artist who had made a hasty sketch of her in life,' and when it came
+home he did not recognize it--really thought a mistake had been made.
+Then, seeing that it _was she_ as authoritatively pictured, and that he
+had paid his all to get it, he bethought him to study it, hoping some
+day to find her in it. And so he did, gradually.
+
+"He had it hung over his smoking-table, and every evening he scrutinized
+it until its insistence conquered. For a whole year he lived in the
+companionship of an absent wife as seen in an artist's mood (this last
+sentence is a direct quotation from my Boston grandmama, who is fond of
+the story). And--well, 'what happened?' Why, _this_: One day the woman
+came home. People 'lost at sea' occasionally do, you know. And would you
+believe it? Her widower--I mean to say her husband--refused to receive
+her. _He did not know her!_ He simply pointed to the painting and shook
+his head. And if she hadn't been a person of resolution and
+resource,--descended from the _Mayflower_,--why, she would have had to
+go away. But she had her trunk brought in and quietly paid the
+expressman and took off her bonnet--_and stayed_. But it was an absurdly
+long time before her husband was wholly convinced that he was not the
+victim of an adventuress. And she says that even now he sometimes looks
+at her in a way she does not like.
+
+"So, you see, we cannot always believe our own eyes, which are so easily
+tricked.
+
+"Still, even knowing all this, we consent to be duped. Now I like the
+picture of the cabin, even while I regret it, and, _although I know
+better_, I accept it.
+
+"What is truth, anyway? That is what you hear said so often in Boston,
+where we are said to try to make pivots of it for the wheels of all our
+little hobbies.
+
+"'Do I like Boston?' _Like Boston? No. I adore it!_ Oh, yes! But yet,
+when I am there, I am a little rebel. And at each place I am quite
+honest, I assure you. You see, I have a grandmother at both places--here
+and there. Such dears, they are--adorable, both, and _so different_!
+
+"Yes, that is true. Papa's portrait, the one Mammy had in the
+cabin,--yes, we have it,--twice recovered from the river. My father
+offered a reward, and a man brought it out of the mud, a little way down
+the levee, and not seriously hurt. It is a funny little picture of papa
+at six, in a Highland costume, with his arm over a strange dog which
+belonged to the artist. He looks in the picture as if he were
+stuffed--the dog does; but papa denies that. I believe this same dog
+appeared in most of the portraits done by this man, in all of those of
+boys, at least. For the girls he supplied a cat, or occasionally a
+parrot. The bird _was_ stuffed, I believe. He did my stepmother at
+five, and she holds the cat. The portraits hang side by side now. If we
+could find him, and the parrot, he should paint me, and we would start a
+menagerie.
+
+"Oh, yes; going back to the subject, there are many little things which
+I remember, without a doubt, for I could never imagine them. For
+instance, I remember at least one of my baptisms--the last, I suppose. I
+know I was frightened because the minister shouted, and Mammy kept
+whispering to me that he wouldn't harm me; and then he suddenly threw
+water all over me and I bawled. No, I have no idea who he was; but it
+was out of doors, and there was a rooster in it someway. I suppose it
+was on the levee and the rooster came to see what was happening.
+
+"There is a picture which always reminds me of the time we lived behind
+the woodpiles, that called 'The Soldier's Dream,' in which a poor
+fellow, asleep on the battle-field, sees dimly, as in the sky, a meeting
+between himself and his family.
+
+"I am sure that while we sat on the levee and Mammy talked to me of
+papa's coming, I used to picture it all against the sunset sky. Just
+look at it now. Was anything ever more gorgeous and at the same time so
+tender? One could easily imagine almost any miracle's happening over
+there in the west.
+
+"Yes, I know the skies of Italy, and they're no better. They are bluer
+and pinker, perhaps, in a more paintable way; but when the sun sets
+across the Mississippi, especially when we have their dreamy cloud
+effects, it goes down with variation and splendor unmatched anywhere, I
+do believe. But," she added with a Frenchy shrug, "you know I am only a
+river child, and everything belonging to the old muddy stream is dear to
+me.
+
+"I beg your pardon--what did you ask?" This to a very young man who
+colored after he had spoken. "Did we ever recover--? Oh, no. Their
+bodies went with the waters they loved--and it was better so. Certainly,
+papa used every effort. I hope the current carried them to the sea. She
+would have liked to have it so, I am sure, dear, dear Mammy Hannah!
+
+"Oh, yes. The little monument on Brake Island is only 'in memory,' as
+its inscription says."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+This was rather thoughtful talk for a girl scarcely eighteen, but Agnes
+had ever been thoughtful, and by common inheritance--from her mother and
+her father.
+
+As the scene shifted, and conversation passed to lighter things, and her
+laughter rippled again as a child's, its range was sometimes startling.
+It was as brilliant as a waterfall seen in the sun, and often while her
+fond father watched her, as now, he wondered if, perchance, her laughter
+might not be prophetic of a great career for which eyes less devoted
+than his perceived her eminently fitted.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is beyond the province of this tale of the river to follow Agnes Le
+Duc through life. Some day, possibly, her story may be fully told; but
+perhaps a foreshadowing of her future, in one phase of it at least, may
+be discerned in an intimation let fall by one of the passengers who sat
+with his companions at a card-table in the fore cabin. At least, they
+had spent the day there, stopping not even for dinner, and now they were
+moving away. As they found seats out on the guards, he was saying:
+
+"'_Rich!_' Well, I would say so! He own all doze plantation around de
+town of Waterproof, and de strange part is _he paid twice for some of
+dem_! Of co'se he could not do such a so-foolish t'ing except he made
+dat _in_vention. W'en you _be_gin to collec' so much on every one of
+anyt'ing dat fill a want, _you get rich, sure_!
+
+"No matter if it jus' _one picayune_--w'en dey sell enough. Dey say you
+can make sugar so quick by dat _mach_ine he _in_vent--it is like
+conjuring--a sort of hoodoo!"
+
+"Yes," said his companion, an American, "so I understand; and there is
+no man I would rather see rich than Harold Le Duc. His marriage, so soon
+after the recovery of his child, surprised some of us, but no doubt it
+was a good thing."
+
+"A good t'ing! It was _magnificent_! If he is one of de finest men in
+Louisiana, she is equal to him. Dat remark dat he married only for a
+mudder for his child--dat's all in my heye! I am sure he was in love to
+her one year, maybe two, _be_fo' dat--_mais_, I am not sure he would
+have asked any woman to marry him. He had not de courage. For him love
+was past--and he was afraid of it. _Mais_ de chil' she wake him up
+again! Oh, it is a good t'ing, _sure_! An' de strange part, she t'ought
+she wou'n' never love again, jus' de same as him--until--"
+
+"Until what?"
+
+"Well, _until he spoke_! Until w'at you t'ink?"
+
+"Not'ing. I t'ought _maybe_ it was somet'ing unusual."
+
+"Well, an' is dat not somet'ing unusual--w'en a widow is _sure_ she will
+not love again? Dey often _t'ink_ so, _mais_ she was _absolutely sure_!
+You see, her first husband he was one hero; he fell on de same
+battle-field wid gallant 'Jeb' Stuart--from a stray shot w'en de
+fighting was over, carrying dat poor _imbecile_, Philippe Delmaire, off
+de fiel', biccause he was yelling so, wid dat one li'l' toe he los'! A
+good fellow, yas, _mais no account_! Yas, he drank himself to deat', all
+on account for de loss of dat toe, so he say. Excuses dey are cheap,
+yas. If it was not his toe it would have been somet'ing else. You know,
+his figure, it was really perfection, no _mis_take, an' to lose
+perfection, even in so small a matter as one toe--it prey on his mind.
+Tell de trut', I used to feel sorry for him, an'--an'--w'en he always
+would touch his glass an' drink dat favorite toast, 'To my big toe!'
+well, dere was somet'ing pitiful in it. I used to drink it wid him. It
+was no harm, an' he had always good wine, poor fellow. _Mais to t'ink of
+Paul de La Rose dying for him!_ It make me mad, yet w'en I t'ink so, I
+am almos' sorry to reflect I have drunk to his toe! Bah--a valu'ble
+man--to die like dat! Wat you say? Yas, da's true. It makes not _how_ de
+soldier fall--de glory is de same. Well, any'ow, if he could have picked
+out a successor, he could not have done better dan yo'ng Le Duc--sure!
+W'at you say? '_'Ow_ is he bought doze plantation twice?' Well, dis way:
+W'en he had to take dem on mortgage, an' dey were sold at de door of de
+court-house--bidding against him, understand--no rainy-day sale--he paid
+_double_--I mean to say he paid so much as de mortagage _again_. Not in
+every case, _mais_ in many--to widows. I know two cousin of mine, he
+paid dem so. I ricollec' dey tol' me dat he was de mos' remembering man
+to look out for dem, an' de mos' forgetting to sen' de bills.
+
+"Oh, yas. An' his daughter, dey say she is in love to her
+stepmother--an' she is jus' so foolish about de chil'--an' wid good
+reason. She had never children--an' she is proud for dat daughter, an'
+jealous, too, of dose Yankee _ril_lation. Still, she _in_vite dem to
+come every year, so the chil' can stay--an' now, would you believe it?
+Dey are come to be great friends, _mais_, of co'se, her father sends her
+every year at Boston to her grandmother. Dey all want her, an' no
+wonder. If she was one mud fence, I suppose it would be all de same,
+_mais_ you know, she is _one great beauty_! I say one gr-r-r-reat
+beauty! Wh! An'w'en I whistle so 'wh!' I mean w'at I say. You see me so,
+I am one ol' man, now--pas' forty--an' rich in children, an' not
+bad-looking children, neither; _mais_ I would walk, me, all de way from
+de barracks up to Bouligny, _an' back_, just to see her pass in de
+street an' smile on me. You take my word, _if_ she is not snapped up by
+some school-boy, she can marry _anyt'ing_--_a coronet_! An' I know
+somet'ing about women--not to brag."
+
+"If you are so anxious to see dat young lady, Felix," said another, "you
+don't need to walk so far. She is, at dis moment, wid her father an' her
+stepmudder, on dis trip."
+
+"_W'at_! w'at you say? Well, wait. I di'n' inten', me, to dress
+for de ladies' cabin to-night, _mais_ w'en I have my supper I will
+put on my Sunday t'ings--jus' to go an' sit down in de cabin
+w'ere--I--can--look--at _innocent_--_beauty_! It pleasure me, yas, to
+see some t'ing like dat. May_be_ I am not all good, _mais_ I am not all
+given over for bad so long I can enjoy a rose-vine all in pink, or a
+fair yo'ng girl more beautiful yet.
+
+"I tell you, my friends, I was sitting, week before las', at my 'ouse on
+Esplanade Street, on de back gallerie, w'ere de vines is t'ick, an' dey
+were, as you might say, honey-suckling de bees--an' de perfume from my
+night-bloomin' jasmine filled my nose. It was in de evening, an' de moon
+on de blue sky was like a map of de city, jus' a silver crescent, an'
+close by, one li'l' star, shining, as de children say, 'like a diamond
+in de sky,' an' I tell you--I tell you--
+
+"Well, I tell you, _I wished I had been a good man all my life_!"
+
+His friends laughed gaily at this.
+
+"You don' say!" laughed one. "Well, you fooled us, any'ow! I was holding
+my breat'. I t'ought somet'ing was getting ready to happen!"
+
+"Well--an' ain't dat somet'ing?--w'en a hard ol' sinner like me can see
+in nature a t'ing sweet an' good an'--_an' resolute himself_!"
+
+"Sure, dat is a great happening; _mais_ for such a _be_ginning, so
+dramatic, we expected to see Hamlet--or maybe his father's ghost--or
+_somet'ing_!"
+
+"I am thinking more of this exceptional beauty"--it was the American who
+interrupted now--"I am more interested in her than in the confessions of
+old sinners like ourselves. I am rather practical, and beauty is only
+skin-deep--sometimes at least. I should like to take a peep at this rare
+product of our State. Louisiana's record up to date is hard to beat, in
+this respect."
+
+"Well," slowly remarked the man known throughout as Felix, "I am not
+telling! If I _knew_, I could not _tell_, and, of co'se, it is all
+guess-work, _mais_ you may believe me or not--" he lowered his voice,
+suggesting mystery. "I say you can _rif_fuse to believe me or not, I
+was--well, I was not long ago, one day, sitting at de table down at
+Leon's,--eating an oyster wid a friend of mine, and, looking out of de
+window, I happened to see, sitting in a tree, _one li'l' bird_--jus' one
+small li'l' bird, no bigger dan yo' t'umb.
+
+"I was not t'inking about de bird, mind you. We were jus' talking about
+anyt'ing in partic'lar--I mean to say not'ing in general. _W'at_ is de
+matter wid me to-day? I cannot talk straight--my tongue is all twis'. I
+say we were speaking of partic'lar t'ings in general, an' he remarked to
+me, '_Who you t'ink will be de Queen of de Carnival dis coming Mardi
+Gras?_'
+
+"I was pouring a glass of Château Yquem at de time,--to look after de
+oysters,--an' I di'n' pay so much attention to w'at he was saying--I can
+never pour a glass an' speak at de same time. I spill my words or de
+wine, sure. So it happened dat w'en I put me de bottle down, my eye
+passed out de window. Oh, hush! No, not my eye, of co'se--I mean my
+sight. Well, dat li'l' bird it was still waiting in the same place, in
+de magnolia-tree, an' w'en I looked, it give me one glance, sideways,
+like a finger on de nose, an' it opened wide its bill, an' just so plain
+as I am speaking now, _it spoke a name_." This in still lower voice.
+
+"But I said nothing, immediately. A little wine, for a few glasses, it
+make me prudent--_up to a certain point_, of co'se. _Mais_, direc'ly, I
+looked at my friend, an' wid w'at you might call an air of
+_nonchalance_, I repeat to him de name _ex_ac'ly as it was tol' to me by
+de li'l' bird in de magnolia-tree. An' wa't you t'ink he said?"
+
+"Oh, go on. W'at he say?"
+
+"You want to know w'at he said? Well, dat I can tell you. He was greatly
+astonish', an' he whispered to me, '_Who tol' you? You are not in de
+Pickwick?_'"
+
+"Oh, a little bird tol' me!" I answered him. "_No, I am not in de
+club._"
+
+"_But the name? Do tell us!_"
+
+"Oh, no. I cannot. If I _told_, dat would be _telling_, eh?"
+
+"Sure! It is not necessary," said another. "Well, I am pleased, me."
+
+"_An'_ me!"
+
+"I like always to listen w'en you tell somet'ing, Felix. Your story is
+all right--an' _I believe you_. I always believe any man in de Pickwick
+Club--_on some subjects_! _Mais_, ol' man, de nex' time you make a story
+at Leon's restaurant, suppose you move off dat magnolia-tree. A bird
+could stand on de window-sill across de street jus' as well--a real
+window-sill."
+
+"T'ank you. I am sure a _real_ somet'ing-to-stand-on would be better for
+_a real bird_. _Mais_, for dis particular bird, I t'ink my magnolia is
+more suitable. Don't forget de story of de Mongoose!"
+
+"Nobody can get ahead of you, Felix. Well, it is a good t'ing. It is
+true, her fodder was de King at las' year's Carnival--an' it is
+lightning striking twice in de same place; an' yet--"
+
+"And yet," the American interrupted, "and yet it will sometimes strike
+twice in the same place--if the attraction is sufficient. I have a
+friend who has a summer home in the Tennessee mountains which was twice
+struck--three times, nearly. That is the house next door got it the
+third time. And then they began to investigate, and they found the
+mountain full of iron--iron convertible into gold."
+
+"Well, and our man of iron, let us hope he may prove always an
+attraction--for bolts of good fortune!"
+
+"A wish that may come true; if reports be correct, he is rapidly turning
+into gold," said the American. "I am told that he has found salt in
+immense deposits on his island--and that he has resumed the work begun
+just before the war--that of opening up the place."
+
+"Oh, yas. 'Tis true. Over a hundred t'ousand dollars he has already put
+in--an' as much more ready to drop. _Mais_ it is _fairyland_! An' me,
+_I_ was t'inking too--sometimes I t'ink a little myself--I was t'inking
+dat if--I say _if_ sometime his daughter would be de Comus Queen, not
+insinuating anything, you know--no allusion to de bird--w'at a fine
+house-party dey could have _now_, eh? Dey could invite de royal party,
+maids of honor, and so fort'--whoever is rich enough to lose so much
+time--
+
+"T'ink of sailing up de new canal on de barge--"
+
+"An' under de bridge--"
+
+"No, not de bridge. He will never touch dat. He has made a new plan,
+entering another way. Dat span of de bridge he commenced--it is standing
+beside de beautiful w'ite marble tomb--to hold his family. His wife she
+is dere, an' de ol' negroes w'at care for his chil'--dey are laying in
+one corner, wid also a small monument."
+
+"Are you _sure_ dey are dere?"
+
+"I have seen de monument, I tell you."
+
+"Well, Harold he was always sentimental, if you will. I suppose dat
+broken bridge is, as he says--it is history, and he needs to keep it
+before him, not to be too rash. Maybe so. Who can tell? Two boys in de
+war, it was enough--if he had stopped to t'ink."
+
+"Yas--_mais_ de barge, de Cleopatra; dey say she is be'-u-tiful!"
+
+"Cleopatra! For w'at he di'n' name her somet'ing sensible?"
+
+"Dat is not only sensible--it is diplomatic. You know, w'en a man has
+only a daughter and a step-wife--_w'at_ is de matter wid me to-night?
+You understand me. I say, in--well, in some cases, to _dis_criminate,
+it is enough to drive a man to--"
+
+"Oh, don't say dat, Felix."
+
+"Let me _finish_, will you? I say it is one of dose _in_delicate
+situations dat drive a man to _dodge_! An' w'en he can dodge into
+history and romance at once, so much de better! An' _Cleopatra_, it
+sound well for a barge. An' so, really, _if_ de beautiful daughter
+_should_ be de queen an' dey could arrange one house-party--"
+
+"Suppose, Felix, ol' man, you would bring out yo' magnolia-tree once
+more, you don't t'ink de li'l' bird would come again an' stan' on one
+limb an' may_be_--"
+
+"Ah, no. I am sure not. If dey had a grain of salt in dat story, I would
+try. I would put it on his tail. _Mais_, how can you catch a bird widout
+salt?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So idly, playfully, the talk rippled on, ever insensibly flavored with
+rich romance of life, even as the fitful breeze skirting the shores
+held, in shy suspension, an occasional hint of orange-blossoms or of
+the Cuban fruits which, heaping the luggers in the slanting sun, laid
+their gay bouquets of color against the river's breast.
+
+It is many years since the maid Agnes Le Duc, on her way to coronation
+at the carnival, stood while the sun went down in all her vestal beauty
+on deck of the _Laurel Hill_, and smiled through tears of tenderness at
+life as half revealed to her.
+
+Many things are changed since then, and yet the great river flows on,
+all unheeding.
+
+Laden to their guards, so that their weighty cargoes of cotton and
+sugar, traveling to mill and to market, are wet with the spray of
+playful condescension, panting ships of commerce, some flying foreign
+colors, still salute each other in passing, with ever a word of
+solicitude as to milady's health.
+
+Old Lady Mississippi, is she high or low in spirits? And will her hand
+of benediction turn to smite and to despoil?
+
+But, whether she be obdurate or kindly, hysterical or melancholy, or so
+serene as to invite the heavens, life and love and song are hers.
+
+Uniting while she seems to divide, bringing together whom she appears to
+separate, a raft of logs contributed by her grace affording free passage
+the length of her realm to whoever will take it, paying no toll, she
+invites Romance to set sail under the stars in primal simplicity,
+eschewing the "bridal chambers" of white and gold which lie in the
+hearts of all the busy steamers, no matter how otherwise prosaic their
+personalities.
+
+And still, afloat and alongshore, astride a molasses-barrel or throwing
+dice between the cotton-bales, taking no thought of the morrow, the
+negro sings:
+
+    "Cometh our fount of every blessing!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+***** This file should be named 34416-8.txt or 34416-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/4/1/34416/
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/34416-8.zip b/34416-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf9929c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-8.zip
diff --git a/34416-h.zip b/34416-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..536f88c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h.zip
diff --git a/34416-h/34416-h.htm b/34416-h/34416-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d7696e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/34416-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,3815 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ -->
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The River's Children, by Ruth Mcenery Stuart.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .75em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .75em;
+}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+    /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+} /* page numbers */
+
+.linenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    top: auto;
+    left: 4%;
+} /* poetry number */
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 5%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.sidenote {
+    width: 20%;
+    padding-bottom: .5em;
+    padding-top: .5em;
+    padding-left: .5em;
+    padding-right: .5em;
+    margin-left: 1em;
+    float: right;
+    clear: right;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    color: black;
+    background: #eeeeee;
+    border: dashed 1px;
+}
+
+.bb       {border-bottom: solid 2px;}
+
+.bl       {border-left: solid 2px;}
+
+.bt       {border-top: solid 2px;}
+
+.br       {border-right: solid 2px;}
+
+.bbox     {border: solid 2px;}
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
+
+.caption  {font-weight: bold;}
+
+/* Images */
+.figcenter   {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.figleft {
+    float: left;
+    clear: left;
+    margin-left: 0;
+    margin-bottom: 1em;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+    margin-right: 1em;
+    padding: 0;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.figright {
+    float: right;
+    clear: right;
+    margin-left: 1em;
+    margin-bottom:
+    1em;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+    margin-right: 0;
+    padding: 0;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+/* Footnotes */
+.footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+
+.footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+
+.footnote .label  {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;}
+
+.fnanchor {
+    vertical-align: super;
+    font-size: .8em;
+    text-decoration:
+    none;
+}
+
+/* Poetry */
+.poem {
+    margin-left:10%;
+    margin-right:10%;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+
+.poem br {display: none;}
+
+.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+
+.poem span.i0 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i2 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 2em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i4 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 4em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+    .poem span.i10     {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i12     {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i6     {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i7     {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i8     {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The River's Children
+       An Idyl of the Mississippi
+
+Author: Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+Illustrator: Barry C. Edwards
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2010 [EBook #34416]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h1>THE RIVER'S CHILDREN</h1>
+
+<h3>AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI</h3>
+
+<h2>By RUTH McENERY STUART</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF "SONNY," "HOLLY AND PIZEN," "MORIAH'S MOURNING,"<br /> "NAPOLEON
+JACKSON," ETC.</h3>
+
+
+<h3>With Pictures by<br />
+Barry C. Edwards</h3>
+
+<h3>NEW YORK<br />
+THE CENTURY CO.<br />
+1904</h3>
+
+<h3>Copyright, 1904, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span></h3>
+
+<h3>Copyright, 1903, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">Phelps Publishing Co.</span></h3>
+
+<h3><i>Published October, 1904</i></h3>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">The De Vinne Press</span></h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a>
+<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"Upon the brow of the levee"</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#PART_FIRST">PART FIRST</a><br /><br />
+<a href="#PART_SECOND">PART SECOND</a><br />
+<a href="#I">I</a><br />
+<a href="#II">II</a><br />
+<a href="#III">III</a><br />
+<a href="#IV">IV</a><br />
+<a href="#V">V</a><br />
+<a href="#VI">VI</a><br />
+<a href="#VII">VII</a><br />
+<a href="#VIII">VIII</a><br />
+<a href="#IX">IX</a><br /><br />
+<a href="#PART_THIRD">PART THIRD</a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<p><a href="#illus1">Upon the brow of the levee</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus2">Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with pickax and spade</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus3">Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus4">The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, dashed to the
+front</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#illus5">Her arms were about his knees</a></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE RIVER'S CHILDREN</h2>
+
+<h3>AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PART_FIRST" id="PART_FIRST"></a>PART FIRST</h2>
+
+
+<p>The Mississippi was flaunting itself in the face of opposition along its
+southern banks. It had carried much before it in its downward path ere
+it reached New Orleans. A plantation here, a low-lying settlement there,
+a cotton-field in bloom under its brim, had challenged its waters and
+been taken in, and there was desolation in its wake.</p>
+
+<p>In certain weak places above and below the city, gangs of men&mdash;negroes
+mostly&mdash;worked day and night, reinforcing suspicious danger-points with
+pickax and spade. At one place an imminent crevasse threatened life and
+property to such a degree that the workers were conscripted and held to
+their posts by promises of high wages, abetted by periodical passage
+along the line of a bucket and gourd dipper.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a>
+<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with
+pickax and spade"</h3>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>There was apparently nothing worse than mirth and song in the bucket.
+Concocted to appeal to the festive instinct of the dark laborers as much
+as to steady their hands and sustain courage, it was colored a fine pink
+and floated ice lumps and bits of lemon when served. Yet there was a
+quality in it which warmed as it went, and spurred pickax and spade to
+do their best&mdash;spurred their wielders often to jest and song, too, for
+there was scarcely a secure place even along the brimming bank where one
+might not, by listening, catch the sound of laughter or of rhythmic
+voices:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' hymn!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">De river, she's a-boomin'&mdash;she's a-comin <i>che-bim</i>!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Swim, nigger, swim!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">De waters is a-floodin'&mdash;dey's a-roarin' on time!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Climb, squirrel, climb!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>At this particular danger-spot just below the city, a number of
+cotton-bales, contributed by planters whose fortunes were at stake, were
+placed in line against a threatening break as primary support, staked
+securely down and chained together.</p>
+
+<p>Over these were cast everything available, to raise their height. It was
+said that even barrels of sugar and molasses were used, and shiploads of
+pig-iron, with sections of street railways ripped from their ties. Then
+barrels of boiling tar, tarpaulins, and more chains. And then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>And then there were prayers&mdash;and messages to the priests up at the old
+St. Louis Cathedral, where many of the wives were kneeling&mdash;and reckless
+gifts of money to the poor.</p>
+
+<p>A few of the men who had not entered church for years were seen to cross
+themselves covertly; and one, a convivial creole of a rather racy
+reputation, was even observed, through the sudden turn of a lantern one
+night, to take from his pocket a miniature statue of St. Joseph, and to
+hold it between his eyes and the sky while he, too, crossed himself. And
+the boon companion who smiled at the sight did himself make upon his own
+breast a tiny sign of the cross in the dark, even as he moved toward his
+friend to chaff him. And when, in turning, he dimly descried the outline
+of a distant spire surmounted by a cross against the stars, he did
+reverently lift his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"It can't do any harm, anyhow," he apologized to himself; but when he
+had reached his friend, he remarked dryly:</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean to tell me, Felix, dat you pray to St. Joseph yet, you
+old sinner! Excuse me, but dose passing lantern, dey give you away."</p>
+
+<p>"Pray to St. Joseph? I would pray to de devil to-night, me, Adolphe, if
+I believed he would drive de river down."</p>
+
+<p>"Sh! Don't make comparison between St. Joseph an' de devil, Felix. Not
+to-night, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>"I di'n' done dat, Adolphe. No! <i>Pas du tout</i>. Not at all. H'only, I
+say, me, I <i>would</i> pray to de devil <i>if</i> he could help us out."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed and shrugged his shoulders as he added recklessly:</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, I would be one mud-catfish caught on his forked tail&mdash;just for
+to-night&mdash;an' let him drag me behind him in de river, if&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you mus' ricollec', de devil he don't play wid water, Felix. Fire
+is his&mdash;fire an' brimstone&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Bah, Adolphe! Who is trying to talk sense to-night? Dose row of
+warehouse yonder, dey are <i>all full</i>, an' on my one pair shoulder. <i>My</i>
+li'l' crop is not'ing. I got in doze warehouse, waiting for a <i>sure</i>
+rise in de market&mdash;all on my ob<i>stin</i>ate judgment&mdash;everyt'ing of <i>my
+brudder</i>, <i>my t'ree cousin</i>, <i>my wife</i>, <i>my mud'-in-law</i>,&mdash;just
+t'ink!&mdash;not to speak about t'irty-five or forty small consignment. Sure!
+I would pray to <i>anyt'ing</i> to-night&mdash;to save dem. I would pray to one
+<i>crawfish</i> not to work dis way. Dem crawfish hole is de devil.</p>
+
+<p>"But dat St. Joseph in my pocket! My mudder, I am sure she put it dere.
+She an' my sisters, dey will all kneel many hours at deir <i>prie-dieux</i>
+to-night&mdash;po' t'ings!"</p>
+
+<p>"An' yo' wife&mdash;she also, of co'se&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My wife?" The man chuckled. "Pff! Ah, no! She is at de opera. She knows
+I am watching de river. She believe it cannot run over so long I watch
+it. I married her yo'ng. Dat's de bes' way.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mais</i>, tell de trut', Adolphe, I am going to church, me, after dis.
+Dere's not'ing, after all, like God to stand in wid you! You hear me, I
+tell you to-night de rizzen our women keep good an' happy&mdash;<i>it is
+faith</i>. You know da's true."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, I believe you, Felix. An' me, I t'ink I will go, too. <i>Any</i>'ow,
+I'll show up at Easter communion. An' dat's a soon promise, too. T'ree
+week las' Sunday it will be here.</p>
+
+<p>"All my yard is w'ite wid dem Easter lilies already. Dis soon spring
+compel dem. Wen you smell doze Bermudas above de roses in your garden
+in de middle of Lent, look out for Old Lady Mississippi. She is getting
+ready to spread her flounces over yo' fields&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, an' to dance on yo' family graves. You may say w'at you like,
+Adolphe&mdash;de ruling lady of dis low valley country, it is not de Carnival
+Queen; it is not de first lady at de Governor's Mansion. It is&mdash;let us
+raise our hats&mdash;it is Old Lady Mississippi! <i>She is</i> de ruling lady of
+de Gulf country&mdash;old <i>mais</i> forever yo'ng.</p>
+
+<p>"In my <i>ril</i>igion I have no superstition. I swallow it whole&mdash;even w'en
+I mus' shut my nose&mdash;I mean hol' my eyes. W'at is de matter wid me? I
+cannot talk straight to-night. <i>Mais</i> to speak of de river, I mus'
+confess to you dat even w'en it is midsummer an' she masquerade like
+common dirty waters, I <i>pro</i>pitiate her.</p>
+
+<p>"Once, I can tell you, I was rowing one skiff across by de red church,
+an' suddenly&mdash;for w'y I di' n' see immediately&mdash;<i>mais</i> out of de still
+water, mixed into bubbles only by my oars, over my hand came one <i>big
+wave</i>. I looked quick, but I could see only de sun to blind my eyes.
+<i>Mais</i> you know w'at I did?</p>
+
+<p>"Dat bright sun, it <i>re</i>flect a small stone in my ring, one diamond, an'
+quick I slip it off an' drop it. It was de river's <i>pet</i>ition, an' w'at
+is a sixty-five-dollar diamond to a man w'en&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Dey ain' got no <i>in</i>sanity in yo' family, I don't t'ink, Felix?
+Otherwise&mdash;excuse me&mdash;I would be oneasy for you."</p>
+
+<p>Adolphe was smiling, and he mischievously lifted one brow and drew up
+his lips as if to whistle.</p>
+
+<p>Felix smiled, too, as he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't fear for me, Adolphe. <i>Mais</i> strong-headed ancestors, dey
+are not'ing. Me, I could <i>start</i> a crazy line just as well as my
+great-gran'fodder. Everyt'ing mus' <i>begin somewhere</i>."</p>
+
+<p>But he added more seriously:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Non</i>, I would do it again&mdash;<i>if</i> I was on <i>such a trip</i>. I tell you
+w'at time it was; it was&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He dropped his voice and looked over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You want to know w'at, precisely, I was doing at de moment de river
+demand my ring? <i>I was praying to her! Sure!</i>" (This last in a whisper.)</p>
+
+<p>"Oh-h-h!" Adolphe's face lit. "Yas, I understand. I ricollec'. You mean
+about five year pas'&mdash;dat time yo' sister los' 'er firs' 'usband,
+w'en&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, <i>ex</i>ac'ly. So you see dat <i>pred</i>icament in w'ich I was placed wid
+de river. I never liked po' Jacques Renault&mdash;" He shrugged his
+shoulders. "I never <i>prof</i>ess to like him, <i>mais</i> he was my
+brud'-in-law; an' my po' sister&mdash;you know Felicité&mdash;she is my <i>twin</i>.
+She done not'ing but cry, cry, cry for fo' days an' nights, an' pay all
+'er money in de poor-box <i>to find him</i>. An' dey tried every way to bring
+him up. So me, I say not'ing, <i>mais</i> w'en de fif day is come I loan from
+my cousin Achilles his wide skiff, an' I start out, an' I row two mile
+below w'ere dey foun' 'is clo'es an' hat, an' den I pull up again&mdash;an'
+wid every stroke I pray to de river to grant me dat satisfaction to find
+po' Jacques an' to lay him in his grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you de trut', maybe I am a sinner to say it, <i>mais</i> I was half
+afraid in my heart dat may<i>be</i> Jacques was playing 'possum an' some day
+he would come back; an' w'en somebody is dead&mdash;dat's one terrible dread,
+<i>yas</i>&mdash;to get such a surprise, <i>es</i>pecially for one widow, you
+understand. It is a <i>re</i>striction, more or less, according to&mdash;Well,
+never mind.</p>
+
+<p>"You may b'lief me or not, <i>mais</i> w'en de river she <i>re</i>quire of me dat
+ring, laying her wet hand over my hand like to take it, at de same time
+she turn it to de sun&mdash;well, I am not stupid. I dropped it <i>quick</i> to
+her, an' den I looked <i>close</i>, yas, on de water, an' <i>im</i>mediately I see
+one&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You said jus' now you saw only de glare of de sun&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ex</i>ac'ly&mdash;an' den, naturally, one black spot befo' my eye, an' I t'ink
+it is de sun; <i>mais</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, 't is a <i>dis</i>agreeable picture. Never mind! De river she <i>give
+me de swap</i>, an' we had one fine funeral de nex' day; an' my po' sister
+Felicité had her consolation.</p>
+
+<p>"So, like I say, w'at consideration was one small diamond ring for such
+a pleasure?</p>
+
+<p>"A widow widout a grave is like a wind in Feb'uary&mdash;crying always
+forever aroun' de house, wid nowhere to go, an' in her eyes are all
+kinds of weather. Bff!</p>
+
+<p>"It is great consolation, a grave. It is a half-way station between de
+home an' de church; an' a widow she need dat&mdash;for a w'ile.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you de trut', w'en I take time to t'ink, Adolphe, sometimes I am
+ashame'. So long I am prosperous I am all for dis worl'; den, w'en
+somet'ing come, like now, an' t'row me on my knees, I feel cheap befo'
+God, yas. <i>Mais</i>, wid de river <i>so</i>, w'at can a man <i>do</i> if he cannot
+<i>pray</i>? So, after to-night's <i>ex</i>perience, I am at home wid my li'l'
+family by eleven o'clock every night, <i>sure</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"'Ow much chillen you got now, Felix? You go too fas' for my
+'rit'metic."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, not too fas'&mdash;just fas' enough. Only nine in over ten
+year&mdash;mos' eleven year. Only <i>six</i>, by <i>right</i>. I <i>engage</i> for six;
+<i>mais</i> w'at can a man do w'en his lady present him wid one <i>extra</i>, once
+in a w'ile! I am de las' one to make remark on her for dat, too,
+biccause I come dat way myself&mdash;following behind Felicité. Twins, dey
+run in some families; an' you know now I am coming to like dem. Dey are
+so sociable, twins."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my friend, you have plenty occasion to be one good man."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Occasion!</i> I am blessed. T'ink all I have got to be t'ankful! I got my
+mudder, my mud'-in-law, my fad'-in-law&mdash;all <i>ril</i>igious people an'
+good&mdash;an' <i>nine li'tl' one</i>, like six stair-steps wid t'ree landings for
+de <i>ac</i>commodation of de twins." He chuckled. "Yas, an' I am going to be
+good. No more dem soubrette supper for me. An' dem <i>danse de</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mais wait! W'at is dat?</i>"</p>
+
+<p>A bell had rung, and a voice was calling out the depth of the water as
+shown upon a graduated scale marked low down against the pier. The
+announcement was half-hourly now.</p>
+
+<p>"W'at he say? T'irteen inches an' a&mdash;Dat's a half-inch fall. T'ank God!
+Maybe St. Joseph an' our women dey save us yet, Adolphe."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, may<i>be</i>. <i>Mais</i> I t'ink de winter is full broke in Minnesota, too.
+No more dat confoun' ice to melt. I looked <i>sure</i> for de water to fall
+down yesterday. Any'ow, one half-inch is hope. Here, take one cigar. I
+can smoke, me, on dat half-inch. You got any matches, Felix?"</p>
+
+<p>In finding his match-box Felix's fingers came in contact with the tiny
+statue of St. Joseph in his pocket, but he was only half sensible of the
+fact in his nervous joy over the slight decline in the river.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello! Here is Harold Le Duc!" he exclaimed, as, by the light of his
+match, he chanced to catch the presentment of a distant face in the
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello! Come along, Harry, an' smoke one cigar. We mus' celebrate dat
+insinuation dat de river is falling. Less dan one inch, it does not
+count, except to prove she is hesitating; an' you know de ol' saying,
+'She who hesitate'&mdash;'Hello, young man! You are good for sore eyes!"</p>
+
+<p>The person addressed had come forward with extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>When another match, lighting Adolphe's cigar, revealed the young man's
+face again, there was something so startling in its wonderful solemnity
+and beauty that both men were impressed.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't smoke? An'w'y? Come! It is one great comfort, a li'l' smoke.
+Here, let me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He presented the cigars again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I thank you, but excuse me now." Young Le Duc took a cigar with a
+smile. "I'll enjoy it later, maybe; but not until we see a little
+further. As you say, a half-inch is only a hint, but it is a good one.
+I am going now up the coast, where trouble waits, and I may need a
+steady hand before morning. But I think the worst is over. Good
+night&mdash;and thank you. The folks&mdash;they are all well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fine, all fine, and asking always for w'y you don't come to see dem."</p>
+
+<p>But he had gone.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of both men followed the retreating figure in silence.</p>
+
+<p>It was Adolphe who spoke at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h!" he sighed. "An' yet we complain sometimes, you an' me, eh? I
+am t'irty-seven years old an' I got t'irteen healt'y chillen an' two
+gran'chillen, an' my wife&mdash;look at her, yo'nger an' happier wid every
+one&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I wonder, me, sometimes, dat God don't just snatch everyt'ing away
+jus' for spite, w'en we always complain so.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you take occasion to notice dat w'ite hair against dat yo'ng face?
+An' dey say he never mention his trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you, like we said, Adolphe, dat river she is&mdash;she is&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He threw up his right palm, as if in despair of adequate language.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>T'ink</i> of coming home from de war, already robbed, to find <i>all</i>
+gone&mdash;home, wife, child, family, servants, <i>all</i> obliterate', an' only
+de river's mark, green mold an' mildew, on de walls above de mantel in
+de house; an' outside her still face under de sky to answer, an' she
+heed no questions. She is called de father of waters? In a sense, yas,
+may<i>be</i>. <i>Mais</i>, no. She is, I tell you, de mother of trouble&mdash;<i>an'</i>
+pleasure, too.</p>
+
+<p>"She is, after all, de queen of dis valley, an' no mistake&mdash;dat river.
+When she need fresh ermine for her robe, she throw it over our cotton
+fields&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, an' de black spots, dey are our sorrows. Dat's not a bad
+resemblance, no."</p>
+
+<p>The speaker looked at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Pas' eleven," he said. "Da' 's good luck w'en she start to fall befo'
+midnight. Oh-h-h! <i>Mais</i> she is one great coquette, yas. She keep you
+crazy until she get tired wid you, an' den she slip away an' steal her
+beauty-sleep befo' de clock strike twelve."</p>
+
+<p>"You t'ink she is going to sleep now? May<i>be</i> she fool us yet, Adolphe."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, may<i>be</i>. <i>Mais</i> I have great hope. She <i>beg</i>in to nod, and w'en
+dat happen to a woman or a riv&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Conversation was suddenly interrupted here by a great crash. The two men
+started, and, turning, saw an entire section of the improvised
+embankment fall landward.</p>
+
+<p>Had the stress of the moment been less, they would involuntarily have
+hastened to the spot, but terror fixed them where they stood. There was
+but a moment of suspense,&mdash;of almost despair,&mdash;but it seemed an
+eternity, before relief came in a great shout which sent vibrations of
+joy far along the bank, even to those who watched and worked on the
+right bank of the stream.</p>
+
+<p>It had been only a "dry break." The weights thrown in upon the cotton
+had been out of plumb, and had pitched the whole structure inward.</p>
+
+<p>The uproar following this accident was long and loud, and had not
+subsided when the bell rang again, and, with tense nerves strained to
+listen, the line of men dropped speech. Instead of calling out the
+decreasing depth, as usual, the crier this time shouted:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Two inches down, thank God!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Screams of joy, not unmixed with tears, greeted this announcement. The
+strain was virtually over.</p>
+
+<p>The two rich men who had stood and talked together mopped their
+foreheads and shook hands in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Finally it was the older, whom we have called Adolphe,&mdash;which was not
+his name any more than was his companion's Felix,&mdash;finally, then,
+Adolphe remarked quite calmly, as he looked at his watch:</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad dat cotton in de pile is saved, yas. 'T is not de first time
+de ol' city has fought a battle wid cotton-bales to help, eh, Felix? All
+doze foundation bales dey belong to Harold Le Duc. He <i>con</i>tribute dem,
+an' make no condition. All dat trash on top de cotton, it catch de tar;
+so to-morrow we dig it out clean an' give it to him again&mdash;an'&mdash;an'&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at his watch again, keeping his eyes upon it for a moment
+before he ventured, in a lower tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I say, Felix, my boy, w'at <i>you</i> say?"</p>
+
+<p>"I di'n' spoke. W'at you say yourself, Adolphe?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Well,'&mdash;dat's all I said; jus' 'well.' <i>Mais</i> I di'n' finish. I
+<i>beg</i>in to say, I&mdash;Well, I was just t'inking. You know to-night it is de
+<i>las'</i> opera&mdash;don't you forget. No danger to make a <i>habit</i> on a <i>las'
+night</i>; ain't dat true? For w'y you don't say somet'ing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Talk, ol' man! I am listening." Felix looked at his watch now.
+"An' may<i>be</i> I am t'inking a li'l' bit, too. <i>Mais</i> go on."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am t'inking of doze strange ladies. I am <i>sure</i> dey
+had many vacant box to-night. Don't you t'ink dey need a little
+encouragement&mdash;not to leave New Orleans wid dat <i>im</i>pression of neglect?
+We don't want to place a stigma upon de gay ol' town. My carriage is
+here, an' it is yet time. One hour, an' we will forget all dis trouble.
+I need me some champagne myself."</p>
+
+<p>Felix chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Yi! An' me, too, Adolphe. I tol' you I was t'inking also.
+<i>Mais</i> let us sen' de good news home, an' let doze women off deir knees
+an' go to bed. My mud'-in-law she is de devil for prayin', an' she is
+poody stout, po' t'ing!</p>
+
+<p>"We telegram it. Tell dem deir prayers are answered&mdash;de water is down&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"An' our spirits are up, eh? An' we will be home in de morning, <i>w'en de
+valuable débris is removed</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Felix laughed and touched his friend in the ribs.</p>
+
+<p>"You are one devil, Adolphe. <i>Mais</i> we mus' be good to our women."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure! I am going to return dat compliment you paid me jus' now. You say
+I am one devil, eh? <i>Bien!</i> An' in response, I say, Felix, you are one
+<i>saint</i>. You hear me! I say, one <i>saint</i>&mdash;<i>un</i>canonized! Any man dat
+will telegram a message to save his rich mud'-in-law from maybe sudden
+apoplexy, he is one saint, <i>sure</i>! <i>Mais</i> you are right. We mus' be good
+to our women. A happy wife is a joy forever!"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed again as he added:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mais</i> de débris! Yi, yi! Dat make me smile. You ricollec' de las'
+débris, w'en Ma'm'selle Koko&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, Felix! Sure, I remember. I paid, me, I know, one good round
+sum for my share. Dat was one terrible smash-up. Two dozen
+champagne-glass; one crystal decanter; one chandelier, also crystal,
+every light on it broke, so we had to put off de gas; an'&mdash;well, de
+devil knows w'at else.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell de trut', I don't like dat dancing on de supper-table, Felix. 'T
+is super<i>flu</i>ous. De floor is good enough. An' you know, w'en a lady is
+dancing on a table, after a good supper, of co'se every glass is a
+temptation to her slipper. An' slippers an' wine-glasses&mdash;well, to say
+de least, de combination it is disastrous.</p>
+
+<p>"So, I say, de floor it is good enough for me. It seem more <i>comme il
+faut</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mais</i> come along. We will be late."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PART_SECOND" id="PART_SECOND"></a>PART SECOND</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">De waters is a-floodin'&mdash;dey 's a-roarin' on time!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Climb, squirrel, climb!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p>For several miles, when the night was still or the wind favorable, one
+could follow the song, accented by simultaneous blows of implements of
+defense marking the measure.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sing, nigger, sing! Sing an' pray!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ol' Death is on de water&mdash;he's a-ridin' dis way!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Pray, nigger, pray!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Some of the words might have been elusive had they been unfamiliar, but
+the annual agitation kept the songs of the river in mind; and even in
+safe sections, where many sat in peace beside the rising waters, they
+would take their pipes from their lips to catch up the danger-songs and
+sympathetically pass them along. Many a prayer went with them, too, from
+humble petitioners who knew whereof they prayed.</p>
+
+<p>Such were an old black couple who sat one night upon the brow of the
+outer levee at Carrollton, since become an upper district of
+far-reaching New Orleans.</p>
+
+<p>In strong contrast to the stirring scenes enacting below the city, all
+was peace and tranquillity here. A strong, new embankment, securely
+built several hundred feet inland, had some years before supplanted the
+outer levee, condemned as insecure, so that the white inhabitants of the
+suburb slept, intelligently safe behind a double barrier, for the
+condemned bank had stood the stress of so many seasons that much of the
+low land lying between the two levees was finally occupied by squatters,
+mostly negroes, this being free space, taking no rent of such as did not
+fear the ever-impending mortgage which the river held.</p>
+
+<p>Of this class, quite apart from others, might have been seen almost any
+evening the old couple, Hannah and Israel, sitting upon the brow of the
+levee near the door of their low cabin, while, always within call, there
+played about them a fair-haired little girl and a dog.</p>
+
+<p>When the beautiful child, followed by the dog, a fine Irish setter,
+would suddenly emerge in a chase from among the woodpiles about the
+cabin, there was a certain high-bred distinction in them both which set
+them apart from the rest of the picture.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes they would "play too hearty," as Mammy expressed it, and she
+would call: "Dat 'll do now, Blossom! Come lay down, Blucher!" and,
+followed closely by the dog, the child would coddle at the knees of the
+woman, who "made the time pass" with stories. Sometimes these would be
+folk-tales brought over from Africa, or reminiscences of plantation
+life, but more often, feeling her religious responsibility to the
+little one, old Hannah would repeat such Bible stories as "befitted a
+child's mind," such as "Ab'um an' Isaac," "Eden's Gyarden," or "De
+Prodigum Son."</p>
+
+<p>Of them all, the Eden story was easily favorite, its salient mystery
+features affording fine scope for the narrator's power, while they held
+the imaginative child with the spell of all good wonder-tales. We get
+these stories so young and grow up with them so familiarly that when we
+finally come into a realization of them they hold no possible surprise
+and so their first charm is lost. Think of one story with such elements
+as a wonder-woman rising from a man's side while he slept&mdash;a talking
+serpent, persuasive in temptation as insidious in easy approaches&mdash;a
+flaming sword of wrath&mdash;a tree of knowledge&mdash;and the sounding voice of
+God as he walked through the garden "in the cool of the day"! Is not a
+single colloquialism of so venerable ancestry sufficient to dignify a
+language?</p>
+
+<p>Herself a classic in that she expressed the eternal quality of maternal
+love incarnate, the old woman thus unconsciously passed along to the
+object of her devotion the best classic lore of the ages. And sunrise
+and sunset, star- and moon-land, and their reflection in the great
+water-mirror, were hers and the child's, without the asking. Nor were
+they lost, although to both child and woman they were only common
+elements in life's great benediction.</p>
+
+<p>During the story-telling, which generally lasted until the sun sank
+across the river, but while its last rays still made "pictures of glory
+in the heavens" with the water's reflection,&mdash;pictures which served to
+illustrate many a narration, to inspire the speaker and impress a
+sensitive child,&mdash;the dog would stretch himself facing the two, and his
+intelligent and quizzical expression would sometimes make Mammy laugh in
+a serious place or change the drift of her story. Often, indeed, this
+had happened in the telling of certain animal tales which Mammy
+declared Blucher knew better than she and she even insisted that he
+occasionally winked at her and set her right when she went wrong.</p>
+
+<p>In the early dusk, the old man Israel would come trudging in from the
+water and sometimes he would light his pipe and join Mammy's audience.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally Mammy would cook the supper in the open, upon a small
+charcoal furnace, and the "little Miss" would sup from a tiny low table
+brought from the cabin. Here she was served by the old people in turn,
+for they never ate until she had finished. Then the little girl was
+carefully undressed and sung to sleep with one of Mammy's velvet
+lullabies, in a dainty bed all her own, a berth which hung, shelf-like,
+against the wall; for the home of this incongruous family was quite as
+novel as the family itself.</p>
+
+<p>Part of the ladies' cabin of an old Mississippi steamboat, still
+shabbily fine in white paint and dingy gilding, which Israel had
+reclaimed from an abandoned wreck, formed a wing of the building. This,
+which, with its furnishings, Mammy called "Blossom's lay-out,"
+communicated by a door with a "lean-to" of weather-stained boards, whose
+mud chimney and homely front formed a strong contrast to the river
+entrance of white and gold. This grotesque architectural composite would
+have attracted attention at another time or place, but as one of a
+class, made to its need of any available material, it passed unnoticed
+beyond an occasional casual smile of amusement and sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>It was like the composite toilets of the poor blacks during the hard
+times suggestively called the "reconstruction period," when old women in
+soldier coats and boots, topped by third-hand feathered finery, waited
+at the distributing-station for free rations. No one ever thought of
+laughing at these pathetic grotesques, technically freed but newly
+enslaved by bitter circumstance.</p>
+
+<p>On the night with which this tale begins, when Mammy had put Blossom to
+sleep and tucked the mosquito-bar snugly around her, she went back to
+her place beside her husband, and, lighting her pipe, sat for a long
+time silent. This was so unusual that presently Israel said:</p>
+
+<p>"What de matter wid you dis evenin', Hannah? Huccome you ain't
+a-talkin'?"</p>
+
+<p>Hannah did not answer immediately. But after a time she said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"I 's jes a-speculatin', Isrul&mdash;jes speculatin'." And, after another
+pause, she added, quite irrelevantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Is you got yo' swimp-sacks all set?"</p>
+
+<p>"In co'se I is." Israel's words came through a cloud of smoke.</p>
+
+<p>"An' yo' oars brung in?"</p>
+
+<p>"In co'se I is!"</p>
+
+<p>"An' de skift locked?"</p>
+
+<p>"In co'se I is!"</p>
+
+<p>"An' Blucher fed?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's de matter wid you, Hannah? You reckon I gwine forgit my reg'lar
+business?"</p>
+
+<p>The old woman smoked in silence for some minutes. Then she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Isrul!"</p>
+
+<p>"What you want, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Isrul, I got some'h'n' on my mind. Hit 's been on my mind more
+'n a yeah, an' hit 's a-gittin' wuss."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"You an' me we 's growin' ole, Isrul&mdash;ain't dat so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Hannah."</p>
+
+<p>"An' we ain't got long to stay heah, hey, Isrul?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, ol' 'oman&mdash;can't dispute dat."</p>
+
+<p>"An'"&mdash;hesitatingly. "<i>You</i> knows what 's on my mind, Isrul!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hit 's on my mind, too, Hannah. You don't need to 'spress yo'se'f. Hit
+'s on my mind, day an' night."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>What</i>'s on yo' mind, Isrul?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man began stirring the bowl of his pipe absently.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout we gittin' ol', Hannah, an' maybe some day we'll drap off an'
+leave Marse Harol's chile all by she se'f, like de chillen in de
+wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>"What mek you mek me say it, Hannah? <i>You</i> knows what 'sponsibility
+Gord done laid on we two. Ain't we done talked it over a hond'ed times
+'fo' now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dat ain't <i>all</i> what 's on my mind, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"What else is you got to fret yo'se'f about, Hannah? Ain't I mekin' you
+a good livin'? Ain't you had de money to put a new little silk frock
+away every yeah for de Blossom, and ain't dey all folded away, one a-top
+de yether, 'g'inst de answer to our prayers, so her daddy'll see her
+dressed to her station when he comes sudden? Ain't you got a
+one-way-silk alapaca frock an' a good bonnet for yo'se'f to tek de chile
+by de han' wid&mdash;when Gord see fitten to answer us? You ain't
+<i>hongry</i>&mdash;or <i>col'</i>, is yer?"</p>
+
+<p>"G' way, Isrul! Who's studyin' about victuals or clo'es! I 's ponderin'
+about de chile, dat 's all. 'T ain't on'y 'bout we gittin' ol'. <i>She</i> 's
+gittin' <i>tall</i>. An' you know, Isrul, you an' me we ain't fitten to raise
+Marse Harol's chile. She's big enough to study quality manners an' white
+behavior. All Marse Harol's fam'ly's chillen knowed all de fancy high
+steps an' played scales on de pianner wid bofe hands at once-t, time dey
+was tall as Blossom is&mdash;an' dey made dancin'-school curtsies, too. I
+taken notice, Blossom is sort o' shy, an' she gittin' so she'll stand
+off when anybody speaks to her. Dis heah cabin on de river-bank ain't no
+place for my white folks. I sho' is pestered to see her gittin' shy an'
+shamefaced&mdash;like po' folks. Modest manners and upright behavior is her
+portion. I <i>know</i> it by heart, but I can't <i>show</i> it to her&mdash;I know it
+by knowledge, but of co'se I can't perform it; an' it frets me."</p>
+
+<p>"Hannah!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Isrul?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who gi'n us dis 'sponsibility? Is we axed for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Isrul, we ain't axed for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't you an' me promised Mis' Agnes, de day she died, to keep his
+chile, safe-t an' sound, tell Marse Harol' come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dat 's six yeahs past, dis comin' Christmus, Isrul. I b'lieve Marse
+Harol' done dead an' gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Huccome you believe he dead? Is he come to you in de sperit?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, he ain't come, an' dat 's huccome hope stays wid me. If he was free
+in de sperit lan' he sho' would come an' gimme a sign. But reason is
+reason, an' ef he <i>ain't</i> dead, huccome he don't come an' look arter his
+chile? My white folks warn't nuver shirkers&mdash;nor deserters. So, when I
+stays off my knees awhile an' casts away faith in de unseen, seem dat my
+horse-sense hit gives me trouble. An' den, like to-night, somehow my
+courage sinks, an' look like I kin see him dead an' forgot in some ol'
+ditch on de battle-field.</p>
+
+<p>"Jes <i>s'posin'</i> dat 's de trufe, Isrul, what we boun' to do wid
+Blossom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hannah!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"You done heared a plenty o' preachin', ain't yer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"Is you ever heared a preacher preach 'bout <i>s'posin'</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"But I tell you what you <i>is</i> hearn 'em preach about. You hearn 'em
+preach about <i>watchin'</i> an' <i>prayin'</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Dat 's so, Isrul, but yit'n still, you know de scripture say 'Hope
+referred meketh de heart sick.' You ricollec' dat, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, but dat 's a side-track. Dat ain't got nothin' to do wid answer to
+prayer. Dat 's jes to give comfort to weary souls, when de waitin'-time
+is long; dat 's all. Dey may git sick at heart&mdash;jes' waitin'."</p>
+
+<p>"You right, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, an' arter watchin' an' prayin', dey 's one mo' thing needful. An'
+dat 's <i>faith</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Ef we <i>watches</i> for Marse Harol' to come, an' <i>prays</i> for 'im to come,
+an' don't <i>trus'</i>, you reckon Gord gwine to bother wid us?"</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>tries</i> to trus', Isrul, an' mos' days I does look for Marse Harol'.
+Many 's de time I done taken Blossom by de hand an' walked along de
+levee an' looked down in de Ca'ollton gyarden while de ban' played, an'
+jes fairly scroochinized my ol' eyes out, hopin' to reconnize 'im in de
+dance. I'm dat big a fool in faith&mdash;I sho' is. An' I tries de best I kin
+to keep my faith warm, so de good Lord 'll see it glowin' like a live
+coal in my heart an' he 'll 'member hisse'f about de chile an' sen' 'er
+daddy home, <i>sen' 'er daddy home</i>! My Gord, I say, <span class="smcap">SEN' 'ER DADDY HOME</span>!
+I tries continu'sly, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"You must n't talk about tryin', Hannah. You mus' jes b'lieve it, same
+as a little chile&mdash;same like you see it; an' den you does see it. An'
+when you git along so fur dat you <i>sees</i> wid de neye o' faith, Gord 'll
+sho' mek yo' faith good. Ef faith kin h'ist a mountain an' shove it
+along, hit can fetch a man home whar he b'longs; an' hit 'll do it,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>"Isrul!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gord ain't nuver <i>promised</i> to sen' Marse Harol' home, as I knows on."</p>
+
+<p>"He's promised to answer de prayer o' faith, ain't He?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul, dat 's so. Pray Him to strenken my faith, ol' man. You
+stays so much on de water wid de sky in yo' eyes, whilst I works 'mongst
+de woodpiles, so close to de yearth&mdash;seem like maybe you mought git
+nigher to Gord 'n what I'm enabled to do. Pickin' up chips, hit 's lowly
+work an' hit keeps yo' face down, an'&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say dat, ol' 'oman! Use yo' fo'sight an' 'stid o' you seein'
+<i>chips</i> you'll see <i>kindlin'-wood</i>. Dat what dey <i>is</i>. Dey 'll lead yo'
+heart upward dat-a-way. Heap o' folks don't see nothin' but money in de
+river&mdash;money an' mud; an' dey don't know it's a merror sometimes, full
+o' stars an' glory. I done read Gord's rainbow promises on de face o'
+dat muddy river more 'n once-t, when I lifted out my swimp-nets on a
+still mornin' whilst de sun an' de mist consulted together to show a
+mericle to a ol' dim-eyed nigger."</p>
+
+<p>"You sho' does help me when you 'splains it all out dat-a-way, Isrul.
+Pray like a gordly man, ol' pardner, an' yo' ol' 'oman she gwine talk
+faith strong as she kin&mdash;widout turnin' hycoprite."</p>
+
+<p>"Dat's right, honey&mdash;ol' 'oman&mdash;dat's right. <i>You</i> pray an' <i>I'll</i>
+pray&mdash;an' we'll <i>watch</i> wid <i>faith</i>. An' ef Gord don't sen' Marse
+Harol', He'll git a message to us some way, so we'll be guided."</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a horn from across the river put an end to the
+conversation. Some one was blowing for the ferryman.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Pity</span> you tied <i>Wood-duck</i> up so soon to-night," said the old wife,
+following Israel with her eyes as she spoke, while he rose slowly and
+taking the oars down from the rafters started to the river.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment the old man's answering horn sounded clear and loud in
+response, and the clank of the chain as it dropped in the bow of the
+skiff, followed by the rhythmic sound of the oar-locks, told his
+listening mate that the ferryman was on his way.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2>
+
+
+<p>Besides plying the ferry-skiff at which Israel earned odd dimes&mdash;every
+day a few&mdash;he turned many an honest penny with his shrimp-nets.</p>
+
+<p>The rafts of logs chained together at the landing were his, and
+constituted the initial station of a driftwood industry which was
+finally expressed in the long piles of wood which lay stacked in cord
+measures on either side of the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>The low and prolonged talk of the old people to-night had been
+exceptional only in its intensity. The woman's reluctant almost despair
+of a forlorn hope was pathetic indeed. Still it was but momentary. They
+had gone over the same ground many times before, and fear and even
+foreboding had occasionally clouded their vision in reviewing the
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's observation in regard to the child's growing tall was the
+first suggestion to Israel's mind of the urgency of immediate relief. In
+the stress of material provision, men may be forgiven if they sometimes
+overlook life's abstract values.</p>
+
+<p>Israel was so startled by this new thought that when he had rowed his
+boat out into the clearing which the broad river afforded, he
+involuntarily pressed the handles of his oars, lifting their blades from
+the water, while he turned his eyes in one direction and another and
+then upward. He had a hard problem to solve. Here was a great thinking
+space, and yet, although he stopped for the length of several strokes,
+and the night was mild and still,&mdash;although every condition was
+favorable for clear thought,&mdash;his mind seemed lost in a sort of maze,
+and it was only when he discovered by a familiar landmark that he was
+drifting fast down-stream, only with this obtrusion of the actual, that
+he rallied quickly, and with a deft stroke or two recovered his course.
+And as the oar-locks measured time again he chuckled:</p>
+
+<p>"I got my lesson, yas, I got my lesson. <i>Work!</i> Dat 's my po'tion. Quick
+as I gits biggoty and tries to read above my head, I goes de downward
+way."</p>
+
+<p>He said it aloud, to himself, and the words gave him renewed energy,
+for, even as he spoke, the <i>Duck</i>, with oars for wings, plunged lightly
+forward over the water to a quickened measure.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The old wife, sitting alone, sleepless always when her man was making a
+night trip, was even before his summons to-night painfully awake. It was
+as if the outcry which had burst the door of patience had set her old
+mind free to wander. She seemed to have a broader vision, a new
+perspective upon a situation in which she was herself the chief
+conserving factor. While she kept the child within her door well in her
+subconscious care, and knew by her regular breathing that she slept:
+while she felt the near presence of the dog on guard at her skirts'
+hem, her conscious thoughts were far away.</p>
+
+<p>Quickly even as lightning darts, zigzagging a path of light from one
+remote point to another in its eccentric course&mdash;her dim eyes actually
+resting upon the night skies where the lightnings play&mdash;she traveled
+again in her musings the arbitrary paths of fate from one crisis to
+another in the eventful latter years of her life. Then she would seem to
+see clear spaces, and again the bolts of misfortune which presaged the
+storm of sorrow out of which had come her present life.</p>
+
+<p>First in the anxious retrospect there was the early break in the family
+when the boys began going away to college; then the sudden marriage of
+the youngest of the three; the declaration of war; the enlistment of the
+two elder students in the voluntary service which had transferred their
+names from the university roster to the list of martyrs.</p>
+
+<p>Another dart as of lightning, and she saw this youngest come home with
+his fair New England bride, to depart with her and Israel for an island
+home beyond the canebrakes, and on the heel of this divided joy came his
+passionate enlisting "to avenge the death of his brothers." And
+then&mdash;ah! and then&mdash;how fast the zigzags dart! Rapid changes everywhere
+traced in fire, and, as memory recalled them, throughout the whole was
+ever the rolling thunder of artillery, completing the figure.</p>
+
+<p>The story is one of thousands, individualized, of course, each, by
+special incidents and personalities, but the same, every one, in its
+history of faithfulness of the slave people during the crucial period
+when the masters had gone to battle, leaving their wives and babies in
+the care of those whose single chance of freedom depended on the defeat
+of the absent.</p>
+
+<p>Hannah and Israel had been loved and trusted servants in the family of
+old Colonel Le Duc. The woman had nursed all the babies in turn, Harold
+being the last, and hence her own particular "baby" for all time.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Brake Island, so called because of its situation in a dense cane-brake,
+which was at once a menace and a guard, was the most unpopular part of
+the colonel's large estate, albeit there was no land so rich as its
+fields, no wood better stocked with game than the narrow forest lying
+close along its northern limit, no streams more picturesque in their
+windings or better equipped for the angler's art than that of the Bayou
+d'Iris, whose purple banks declared the spring while the robins were
+calling, and before the young mocking-birds in the crape myrtles opened
+their great red mouths for the wriggling song-food of the bayou's brim.</p>
+
+<p>All the Le Duc sons had loved to go to the island to shoot and to fish
+while they were lads, but upon attaining the social age they had grown
+to despise it for its loneliness. The brake which fringed its borders
+had long been a refuge for runaway negroes, who were often forced to
+poach upon its preserves for food, even to the extent of an occasional
+raid upon its smoke-houses and barns, so that women and children were
+wont to shudder at the very idea of living there. Still it had always
+been the declared "favorite spot on earth" to the colonel, who had often
+vowed that no son of his should own it and spurn it.</p>
+
+<p>He lived like a lord himself, it is true, on a broader place of less
+beauty on the bank of the great river,&mdash;"keeping one foot in New Orleans
+and one on the plantation," as he expressed it,&mdash;and it is not
+surprising that his children had laughingly protested against being
+brought up on house-parties and the opera as preparation for a hermit's
+life, even in "Paradise."</p>
+
+<p>All excepting Harold. While the brothers had protested against the
+island home, he had said little, but when he had brought his bride home,
+and realized the scant affection that stirred the hearts of his family
+at sight of her placid New England face, even while he himself suffered
+much, knowing that her brothers were enlisting in the opposing armies
+and that her family felt her marriage at this time to a slaveholder as a
+poignant sorrow&mdash;while the father seemed hesitating as to just what
+paternal provision he should make for his impulsive boy, the boy
+himself, in a sudden towering declaration of his manhood and of
+resentment and pride, turned upon him:</p>
+
+<p>"Give us Brake Island and Mammy and Israel, and cut us loose! And I'll
+show my people a new variety of hermit life!"</p>
+
+<p>The thing was quickly done. A deed of gift made on the spot conveyed
+this Eden of modern times, with its improvements, full working force and
+equipment, to Harold Guyoso Le Duc, who in accepting it assumed the one
+condition of making it his home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2>
+
+
+<p>Harold was a brilliant fellow, impulsive and extravagant as he was
+handsome and loving, and he had no sooner taken possession of his Eden
+than he began to plan, by means of a system of engineering, to open it
+up by a canal which should "span the brake and tap the bayou," so that
+boats of size and circumstance might enter. Here he would have a launch
+and a barge, and the great world of culture, of wit, of pleasure, and of
+affluence should come in splendor "to watch a hermit herm," or, as he as
+often put it, "to help a hummit hum."</p>
+
+<p>A great house-party was quickly arranged&mdash;a party of gay friends,
+engineers chiefly, bidden for a freely declared purpose&mdash;a party which
+is still cherished in the annals of local social history as a typical
+example of affluent ante-bellum hospitality, and is even yet personally
+recalled by a few old men who sit and seem to wait, mostly, in shabby
+clothing incongruously ill fitting their gilded reminiscence, at certain
+dozing business resorts in old New Orleans.</p>
+
+<p>Most of these venerables still live in their shabby ancestral homes,
+although it may be their women take boarders or their best rooms are let
+for business purposes&mdash;cleared of their cumbersome furnishings of
+mahogany and rosewood by the rising waters of misfortune which have
+gradually carried them into the "antique-shops" of the vicinity.</p>
+
+<p>A place of honor on the tax-lists and a waiting palace of white marble
+in the cemetery&mdash;these querulous witnesses to distinction and of
+permanency are in some cases the sole survivors of the many changes
+incident upon a reconstruction.</p>
+
+<p>To these gentle reminiscers the "Brake Island house-party of Harold Le
+Duc" is even yet the Procrustean bed against which they measure all the
+ostentatious pageantry of a new and despised social order.</p>
+
+<p>For the possible preservation of a bit of local color&mdash;gone out in the
+changed light of a new dispensation&mdash;behold a hasty sketch of this
+long-ago playtime. The invitations which were sent out, naming a single
+date only, with the flattering implication that the visit so urgently
+desired might never come to an end,&mdash;one of the easy fashions of the old
+régime,&mdash;promptly brought a dozen men, with as many women, wives and
+sweethearts, to the "big house" beyond the swamp.</p>
+
+<p>This Southern home, which was broadly typical of its class, simple
+enough in its architecture in that its available space, barring the
+watch-tower in the center of its roof, was all upon a single floor and
+its material the indigenous woods of the forest, yet suffered no
+diminution in being called the "big house"&mdash;a name which has been made
+to serve many a lesser structure for purposes of distinction.</p>
+
+<p>Set high upon brick pillars,&mdash;there are no cellars possible in the
+Mississippi valley country,&mdash;its low, spreading form graced the easy
+eminence upon which it stood, dominating its wide demesne with a quiet
+dignity superior to that of many a statelier home.</p>
+
+<p>In design it was a Greek cross. Surrounded on all sides by deep
+balconies, ornate with cornice and Corinthian columns, its four arms
+afforded as many entrances, of which the southern portal was formal
+front, from which an avenue of arbor-vitćs led down to the canopied
+landing at the bayou's bank at the foot of the decline.</p>
+
+<p>The house had been designed and built by Harold's father, in an
+exuberance of youthful enthusiasm, upon his early marriage. He it was
+who had planted the trailing roses and wistaria-vines, whose gnarled
+trunks, now woody and strong as trees, topped the balconies, throwing
+profusions of bloom adown their pillars and along their balustrades.
+Here Lamarque, Solfaterre, Cloth-of-gold, Musk-cluster, Lady-bank,
+Multi-flora&mdash;all the cherished climbing roses of an earlier
+period&mdash;mingled in harmonious relations with honeysuckle, woodbine, and
+clematis.</p>
+
+<p>The most beautiful of them all, the single yellow-centered Cherokee rose
+of the soil,&mdash;good enough in itself for anywhere, but ostracized through
+caste exclusion from distinction of place about the home,&mdash;lay in heavy
+tangles in the tall, impenetrable hedges which bounded the garden on
+three sides meeting the bayou at the base of the knoll.</p>
+
+<p>Within its inclosure a resident colony of choice flowers&mdash;exotics
+mainly, but domiciled and grown hardy in this protected spot&mdash;had waxed
+riotous in the license of years of neglect, and throwing off traditions,
+as many another aristocrat in like circumstances has done before,
+appeared now in novel forms developed in life's open race with children
+of the soil.</p>
+
+<p>Here in season were great trees of camellia, white and red, with each a
+thousand waxen blooms, stalwart woody growths of lemon-verbena, topping
+sweet olives and answering the challenge of the stately oleanders,
+which, in turn, measured heads against the magnolias' shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Appropriating any available support, great scarlet geraniums ten feet
+high, knowing no winters, laid hands upon the trellises and matched
+pennies with the locust blooms, red petal against white, affiliating,
+weak-spined as they were, with scrub-trees which counted real trees at
+least in their Louisiana pedigrees.</p>
+
+<p>"Cape jasmine borders" had risen into hedges, fencing in certain beds,
+while the violets, which originally guarded fantastic forms in outline,
+had gregariously spread into perennial patches of green and purple.</p>
+
+<p>And everywhere there were orange-trees&mdash;not a grove here, but always one
+or more in the range of vision. Their breath was over the garden, and
+even the bees in the locust-trees, with all their fuss and scattering
+of honey sweets, could not dispel their all-pervading suggestion of
+romance&mdash;the romance of life incarnate ever expressed in their peerless
+exhibits of flower, fresh fruit and yellow, all growing together upon a
+maternal tree rich in life and tone.</p>
+
+<p>Too many words about an old garden? Perhaps so, and yet&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The spirit of a venerable garden as it rises and shows itself to memory
+is such a benediction that one seeing the vision may sometimes wonder
+if, if <i>life</i>, <i>per se</i>, be eternal, and the resurrection of <i>certain</i>
+so-called "dead" a <i>fact</i>, we may not some day wander again in the risen
+gardens of our childhood, recognizing them by verification of certain
+familiar faces of flowers who may know us in turn and bloom
+again&mdash;taking up life, which ever includes love and immortality, at the
+point of suspension, as a mother, waking from a nap, goes back to her
+window, and catching up her broken song held in the cobwebs of sleep,
+sings it through, while she finishes a little sleeve, her foot again
+upon the cradle at her side.</p>
+
+<p>Life is the great serial&mdash;one chapter printed here, another there&mdash;a
+seemingly finished comedy crowding a tragedy unrelated, yonder.</p>
+
+<p>The discerning artist who, reading as he runs, brings these parts into
+line will have begun the great book. Until Gabriel wills, it may not be
+finished.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was, no doubt, but natural that the man of the world, who had
+deserted such an Eden of his own designing for the ostensible excuse of
+business convenience, should have resented in his sons their inherited
+repugnance to the retired life.</p>
+
+<p>What more formidable combatant than one's own stubbornness, turned to
+confront him, in his children?</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The broken trip from New Orleans to the Island took nearly two days,
+although the crow does it easily in a few hours.</p>
+
+<p>The initial munificence of chartering one of the great Mississippi
+steamboats for the first stage of the journey set the pace for the
+entire occasion. Host and hostess met their guests at the river landing
+with carriages and cane wagons gaily bedecked with evergreens, mosses,
+and dogwood branches in flower, and a merry drive through several miles
+of forest brought them to the banks of the bayou, where a line of
+rowboats awaited them.</p>
+
+<p>The negro boatmen, two to man each skiff, wearing jumpers of the Harvard
+crimson, stood uncovered in line at the bayou's edge, and as the party
+alighted, they served black coffee from a fire in the open.</p>
+
+<p>The negro with a cup of coffee his own hue and clear as wine is ever an
+ubiquitous combination in the Louisiana lowlands. He bobs up so
+unexpectedly in strange places balancing his tiny tray upon his hand,
+that a guest soon begins to look for him almost anywhere after an
+interval of about three dry hours, and with a fair chance of not being
+disappointed.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>When finally the party had embarked, the hostess riding in the first
+boat with the governor of the State, while Harold brought up the rear
+with the governor's lady, the sun was low in the west, and narrow
+search-lights, piercing the wood for a brief moment, revealed a great
+wonder-world of dank growths so fairly alive with creeping, flying,
+darting things&mdash;chirping, calling, singing, croaking, humming, and
+hooting&mdash;that when in a twinkling the light suddenly went out, many of
+the women shuddered with a shrinking sense of the uncanny.</p>
+
+<p>Before this intangible emotion had time to crystallize into fear,
+however, each pilot who manipulated the rudder astern had drawn from
+under his seat a great torch of pine and set it ablaze.</p>
+
+<p>Under festoons of gray Spanish moss, often swung so low that heads and
+torches were obliged to defer to them, and between flowering banks which
+seemed sometimes almost to meet in the floating growths which the
+dividing bows of the boats plowed under, the little crafts sped lightly
+along.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally a heavy plunging thing would strike the water with a thud,
+so near a boat that a girlish shriek would pierce the wood, spending
+itself in laughter. A lazy alligator, sleepily enjoying a lily-pool,
+might have been startled by the light, or a line of turtles, clinging
+like knots to a log over the water, suddenly let go.</p>
+
+<p>Streaks of darting incandescence marked the eccentric flights of a
+million fireflies flecking the deep wood whose darkness they failed to
+dispel; and once or twice two reflected lights a few inches apart,
+suggesting a deer in hiding, increased the tremulous interest of this
+super-safe but most exciting journey.</p>
+
+<p>But presently, before impressions had time to repeat themselves, and
+objects dimly discerned to become familiar, a voice from the leading
+boat started a song.</p>
+
+<p>It was a great voice, vibrant, strong, and soft as velvet, and when
+presently it was augmented by another, insidiously thrown in, then
+another in the next boat, until all the untutored Harvard oarsmen were
+bravely singing and the dipping oars fell into the easy measure, all
+sense of fear or place was lost in the great uplift of the rhythmic
+melody.</p>
+
+<p>At special turns through the wood ringing echoes gave back the strains.
+A mocking-bird, excited by the unusual noise, poured forth a rival
+disputatious song, and an owl hooted, and something barked like a fox;
+but it was the great singing of the men which filled the wood.</p>
+
+<p>Common songs of the plantation followed one another&mdash;songs of love, of
+night and bats, of devils and hobgoblins, selected according to the will
+of the leader&mdash;all excepting the opening song, which, although of the
+same repertoire, was "by request," and for obvious reasons.</p>
+
+<p>It was called "When de Sun Swings Low," and ran something like this:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Look out for Mister Swaller when de sun swings low&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Watch him swoop an' sway!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He keeps a mighty dippin', like he don' know whar to go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A-saggin' every way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He starts sort o' nimbly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But he settles mighty wimbly<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When he scurries for de chimbley<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When de sun swings low.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Does you see a cloud a-risin' when de sun swings low?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Listen ef it sings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hit 's a swarm o' gray muskitties, 'bout a million strong or so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A-sharpenin' up der stings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dey keeps a mighty filin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An' dey tries to sing beguilin',<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But de 'skitties' song is rilin'<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When de sun swings low.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, de woods is all conversin' when de sun swings low&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bird an' beast an' tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dey all communes together in de languages dey know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">An' sperits rise to see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De nightmares prances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An' de will-o'-wisp dances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When de moonlight advances<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">An' de sun swings low.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But most naďve and characteristic of them all perhaps was "Ol' Marse
+Adam."</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ole Mister Devil took a walk in Paradise&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hoped to meet Mars' Adam, she was steppin' mighty nice&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dis was 'fo' de fig-time, so my lady picked a rose&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' she helt it 'g'inst de sunlight, as she felt de need o' clo'es&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Den she shuk 'er yaller ringlets down an' 'lowed dat she was dressed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve, she's a-walkin', too&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mister Devil he come quoilin'&mdash;everbody knows de rest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then, changing to a solemn, staccato measure, it went on:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Et de lady's apple up an' give her all de blame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greedy-gut, greedy-gut, whar is yo' shame?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caught de apple in 'is neck an' made it mighty so'e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An' so we po' gran'chillen has to swaller roun' de co'e.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praised de lady's attitudes an' compliment 'er figur'&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Didn't have de principle of any decent nigger.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was a long pull of five miles up the winding stream, but the spirit
+of jollity had dispelled all sense of time, and when at last the
+foremost boat, doubling a jutting clump of willows, came suddenly into
+the open at the foot of the hill, the startling presentment of the white
+house illuminated with festoons of Chinese lanterns, which extended
+across its entire width and down to the landing, was like a dream of
+fairyland.</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed a smiling welcome, and exclamations of delight announced
+the passage of the boats in turn as they rounded the willow bend.</p>
+
+<p>The firing of a single cannon, with a simultaneous display of
+fireworks, and music by the plantation band, celebrated the landing of
+the last boat.</p>
+
+<p>Servants in the simple old-fashioned dress&mdash;checked homespun with white
+accessories, to which were added for the occasion, great rosettes of
+crimson worn upon the breast&mdash;took care of the party at the landing,
+bringing up the rear with hand-luggage, which they playfully balanced
+upon their heads or shifted with fancy steps.</p>
+
+<p>The old-time supper&mdash;of the sort which made the mahogany groan&mdash;was
+served on the broad back "gallery," while the plantation folk danced in
+the clearing beyond, a voice from the basement floor calling out the
+figures.</p>
+
+<p>This was a great sight.</p>
+
+<p>Left here to their own devices as to dress, the negroes made so dazzling
+a display that, no matter how madly they danced, they could scarcely
+answer the challenge of their own riotous color schemes.</p>
+
+<p>Single dancers followed; then "lad<i>y</i>es and gentiles" in pairs, taking
+fantastic steps which would shame a modern dancing-master without once
+awakening a blush in a maiden's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>The dancing was refined, even dainty, to-night, the favorite achievement
+of the women being the mincing step taken so rapidly as to simulate
+suspension of effort, which set the dancers spinning like so many tops,
+although there was much languid posing, with exchange of salutations and
+curtsying galore.</p>
+
+<p>Yet not a twirl of fan or dainty lift of flounce&mdash;to grace a figure or
+display a dexterous foot&mdash;but expressed a primitive idea of high
+etiquette.</p>
+
+<p>The "fragments" left over from the banquet of the upper porch&mdash;many of
+them great unbroken dishes, meats, game, and sweets&mdash;provided a great
+banquet for the dancers below, and the gay late feasters furnished
+entertainment, fresh and straight from life, to the company above, for
+whose benefit many of their most daring sallies were evidently thrown
+out&mdash;and who, after their recent experiences, were pleased to be so
+restfully entertained.</p>
+
+<p>Toasts, drunk in ginger-pop and persimmon beer innocent of guile, were
+offered after grace at the beginning of the supper, the toaster stepping
+out into the yard and bowing to the gallery while he raised his glass
+or, literally, his tin cup&mdash;the passage of the master's bottle among the
+men, later in the evening, being a distinct feature.</p>
+
+<p>The first toast was offered to the ladies&mdash;"Mistus an' Company-ladies";
+and the next, following a suggestion of the first table, where the host
+had been much honored, was worded about in this wise:</p>
+
+<p>"We drinks to de health, an' wealth, <i>an'</i> de long life of de <i>leadin'
+gentleman</i> o' <i>Brake Island</i>, who done put 'isself to so much pains an'
+money to give dis party. But to make de toast accordin' to manners, so
+hit'll fit de gentleman's visitors long wid hisself, I say let's drink
+to who but '<span class="smcap">Ole Marse Adam</span>!'"</p>
+
+<p>It is easy to start a laugh when a festive crowd is primed for fun, and
+this toast, respectfully submitted with a low bow by an ancient and
+privileged veteran of the rosined bow, was met with screams of delight.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2>
+
+
+<p>A resourceful little island it was that could provide entertainment for
+a party of society folk for nearly a fortnight with never a repetition
+to pall or to weary.</p>
+
+<p>The men, equipped for hunting or fishing, and accompanied by several
+negro men-servants with a supplementary larder on wheels,&mdash;which is to
+say, a wagon-load of bread, butter, coffee, condiments, and wines, with
+cooking utensils,&mdash;left the house early every morning, before the ladies
+were up.</p>
+
+<p>They discussed engineering schemes over their fishing-poles and
+game-bags, explored the fastnesses of the brake, eavesdropped for the
+ultimate secret of the woods, and plumbed for the bayou's heart,
+bringing from them all sundry tangible witnesses of geologic or other
+conditions of scientific values.</p>
+
+<p>Most of these "witnesses," however, it must be confessed, were
+immediately available for spit or grill, while many went&mdash;so bountiful
+was the supply&mdash;to friends in the city with the cards of their captors.</p>
+
+<p>There are champagne bottles even yet along the marshes of Brake Island,
+bottles whose bellies are as full of suggestion as of mud, and whose
+tongueless mouths fairly whistle as if to recount the canards which
+enlivened the swampland in those halcyon days of youth and hope and
+inexperience.</p>
+
+<p>Until the dressing-hour, in the early afternoons which they frankly
+called the evening, the young women coddled their bloom in linen cambric
+night-gowns, mostly, reading light romance and verse, which they quoted
+freely under the challenge of the masculine presence.</p>
+
+<p>Or they told amazing mammy-tales of voudoo-land and the ghost-country
+for the amused delectation of their gentle hostess, who felt herself
+warmed and cheered in the sunshine of these Southern temperaments. It
+seemed all a part of the poetry and grace of a novel and romantic life.</p>
+
+<p>Here were a dozen young women, pretty and care-free as flowers, any one
+of whom could throw herself across the foot of a bed and snatch a
+superfluous "beauty-sleep" in the midst of all manner of jollity and
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Most of them spoke several languages and as many dialects, frequently
+passing from one to another in a single sentence for easy subtlety or
+color, and with distinct gain in the direction of music.</p>
+
+<p>Possibly they knew somewhat of the grammar of but a single tongue beside
+their own, their fluency being more of a traditional inheritance than an
+acquisition. Such is the mellow equipment of many of our richest
+speakers.</p>
+
+<p>Not one but could pull to pieces her Olympe bonnet and nimbly retrim it
+with pins, to match her face or fancy&mdash;or dance a Highland fling in her
+'broidered nightie, or sing&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>How they all did sing&mdash;and play! Several were accomplished musicians.
+One knew the Latin names of much of the flora of the island, and found
+time and small coins sufficient to interest a colony of eager
+pickaninnies to gather specimens for her "herbarium."</p>
+
+<p>Without ever having prepared a meal, they could even cook, as they had
+soon amply proven by the heaping confections which were always in
+evidence at the man-hour&mdash;bon-bons, kisses, pralines, what not?&mdash;all
+fragrant with mint, orange-flower, rose-leaf, or violet, or heavy with
+pecans or cocoanut.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon, when the men came home, they frequently engaged in
+contests of skill&mdash;in rowing or archery or croquet; or, following
+nature's manifold suggestions, they drifted in couples, paddling
+indolently among the floating lily-pads on the bayou, or reclining among
+the vines in the summer-houses, where they sipped iced orange syrup or
+claret sangaree, either one a safe lubricator, by mild inspiration or
+suggestion, of the tongue of young love, which is apt to become tied at
+the moment of most need.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a>
+<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree"</h3>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>With the poems of Moore to reinforce him with easy grace of words, a
+broad-shouldered fellow would naďvely declare himself a peri, standing
+disconsolate at the gate of his lady's heart, while she quoted Fanny
+Fern for her defense, or, if she were passing intellectual and of a
+broader culture, she would give him invitation in form of rebuff from
+"The Lady of the Lake," or a scathing line from Shakspere. Of course,
+all the young people knew their Shakspere&mdash;more or less.</p>
+
+<p>They had their fortunes told in a half-dozen fashions, by withered old
+crones whose dim eyes, discerning life's secrets held lightly in
+supension, mated them recklessly <i>on suspicion</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Visiting the colored churches, they attended some of the novel services
+of the plantation, as, for instance, a certain baptismal wedding, which
+is to say a combined ceremony, which was in this case performed quite
+regularly and decorously in the interest of a coal-black piccaninny,
+artlessly named Lily Blanche in honor of two of the young ladies present
+whom the bride-mother had seen but once out driving, but whose gowns of
+flowered organdy, lace parasols, and leghorn hats had stirred her sense
+of beauty and virtue to action.</p>
+
+<p>Although there was much amusement over this incongruous function, the
+absence of any sense of embarrassment in witnessing so delicate a
+ceremony&mdash;one which in another setting would easily have become
+indelicate&mdash;was no doubt an unconscious tribute to the primitive
+simplicity of the contracting parties.</p>
+
+<p>And always there were revival meetings to which they might go and hear
+dramatic recitals of marvelous personal "experiences," full of
+imagery,&mdash;travels in heaven or hell,&mdash;with always the resounding human
+note which ever prevails in vital reach for truth. Through it all they
+discerned the cry which finds the heart of a listener and brings him
+into indissoluble relation with his brother man, no matter how great the
+darkness out of which the note may come. It is universal.</p>
+
+<p>The call is in every heart, uttered or unexpressed, and one day it will
+pierce the heavens, finding the blue for him who sends it forth, and for
+the listener as well if his heart be attuned.</p>
+
+<p>Let who will go and sit through one of these services, and if he does
+not come away subdued and silent, more tender at heart, and, if need be,
+stronger of hand to clasp and to lift, perhaps&mdash;well, perhaps his mind
+is open only to the pictorial and the spectacular.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>There is no telling how long the house-party would have remained in
+Paradise but for the inexorable calendar which warned certain of its
+members that they would be expected to answer the royal summons of Comus
+at the approaching carnival; and of course the important fact that
+certain bills from the legislature affecting the public weal were
+awaiting the governor's signature.</p>
+
+<p>A surprising number of marriages followed this visit, seeming to confirm
+a report of an absurd number of engagements made on the island.</p>
+
+<p>There is a certain old black woman living yet "down by the old basin" in
+French New Orleans, a toothless old crone who, by the irony of
+circumstance, is familiarly known as "Ol' Mammy Molar," who "remembers"
+many things of this time and occasion, which she glibly calls "de
+silveringineer party," and who likes nothing better than an audience.</p>
+
+<p>If she is believed, this much too literal account of a far-away time is
+most meager and unfaithful, for she does most strenuously insist that,
+for instance, there was served at the servants' table on that first
+night&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>But let her have her way of it for a moment&mdash;just a single breath:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, honey," she closes her eyes as she begins, the better to see
+memory behind them. "Why, honey, de champagne wine was passed aroun' to
+de hands all dat indurin' infair in <i>water-buckets</i>, an' dipped out in
+<i>gou'd dippers-full</i>, bilin' over so fast an' fizzin' so it'd tickle yo'
+mouf to drink it. An' Marse Harol' Le Duc, he stood on a <i>pi</i>anner-stool
+on de back gallery an' th'owed out gol' dollars by de hatful for any of
+us niggers to pick up; an' de guv'ner, ol' Marse Abe Lincolm, he fired
+off sky-rockers an' read out freedom papers.</p>
+
+<p>"An' mids' all de dance an' reveltry, a bolt o' thunder fell like a
+cannon-ball outen a clair sky, an' we looked up an' lo an' beholst, here
+was a vision of a big hand writin' on de sky, an' a voice say, '<i>Eat up
+de balance ef anything is found wantin'</i>!' an' wid dat, dey plunged in
+like a herd o' swine boun' for de sea, an' dey devoured de fragmints an'
+popped mo' corks, an' dipped out mo' champagne wine, an' de mo' dey
+dipped out champagne wine, de mo' dey 'd dance. An' de mo' dey 'd dance,
+de mo' de wine would flow."</p>
+
+<p>Possibly the old woman's obvious confusion of thought has some
+explanation in the fact of the presence of the governor of the State,
+who, introduced as a high dignitary, did make a little speech late that
+night, thanking the colored people in terms of compliment for their
+dancing; and any impression made here was so quickly overlaid by the
+deeper experiences of the war that a blending can easily be explained.</p>
+
+<p>There was a shower of coins&mdash;"picayunes" only&mdash;thrown during the evening
+by the master, a feature of the dance being to recover as many of them
+as possible without breaking step. So the old woman's memory is not so
+far afield, although as a historian she might need a little editing. But
+such even as this is much of the so-called "history" which, bound in
+calf, dishonors the world's libraries to-day.</p>
+
+<p>It is so easy, seeing cobwebs upon a record,&mdash;cobwebs which may not be
+quite construed as alphabet,&mdash;to interpret them as hieroglyphics of
+import, instead of simply brushing them away, or relegating them, where
+they belong, to the dusky domain of the myth out of which we may expect
+only weird suggestion, as from the mold of pressed rosemary, typifying
+remembrance dead.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The house-party, which in this poor retrospect seems to have devoted
+itself almost wholly to pleasure, was nevertheless followed by immediate
+work upon the project in behalf of which it was planned.</p>
+
+<p>With this main motive was also the ulterior and most proper one in
+Harold's mind of introducing his wife in so intimate a fashion to some
+of the important members of society, who would date life-friendships
+from the pleasant occasion of helping him to open his own door to them.</p>
+
+<p>Some thousands of dollars went into the quicksands of the marshes before
+the foundations were laid for the arch of a proposed great bridge,
+beneath which his boats should sail to their landing. With the arrogant
+bravado of an impulsive boy challenged to action, he began his arch
+first. Its announcement of independence and munificence would express
+the position he had taken. Sometimes it is well to put up a bold front,
+even if one needs work backward from it.</p>
+
+<p>Harold moved fast&mdash;but the gods of war moved faster!</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had a single column of solid masonry risen above the palmetto
+swamp when Fort Sumter's guns sounded. The smell of gunpowder penetrated
+the fastnesses of the brake, and yet, though his nostrils quivered like
+those of an impetuous war-horse, the master held himself in rein with
+the thought of her who would be cruelly alone without him. And he said
+to himself, while he reared his arch: "Two out of three are enough! I
+have taken their terror island for my portion. They may have garlands
+upon my bridge&mdash;when they come sailing up my canal as heroes!"</p>
+
+<p>But the next whiff from the battleground stopped work on the arch. The
+brothers had fallen side by side.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a>
+<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his
+beloved, dashed to the front"</h3>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>Madly seizing both the recovered swords, declaring he would "fight as
+three," the brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, put
+one of her hands in Hannah's and the other in Israel's, and, commending
+them to God by a speechless lift of his dark eyes, mounted his horse and
+dashed, as one afraid to look back, to the front.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every one knows the story of "poor Harold Le Duc"&mdash;how, captured,
+wounded, he lay for more than a year on the edge of insanity in a
+Federal hospital. Every one knows of the birth of his child on the
+lonely island, with only black hands to receive and tend it, and how the
+waiting mother, guarded by the faithful two, and loved by the three
+hundred loyal slaves who prayed for her life, finally passed out of it
+on the very day of days for which she had planned a great Christmas
+banquet for them in honor of their master's triumphant return.</p>
+
+<p>The story is threadbare. Everyone knows how it happened that "the old
+people," Colonel and Madame Le Duc, having taken flight upon report of a
+battle, following their last son, had crossed the lines and been unable
+from that day to communicate with the island; of the season of the
+snake-plague in the heart of the brake, when rattlers and copperheads,
+spreading-adders, moccasins, and conger-eels came up to the island,
+squirming, darting, or lazily sunning themselves in its flowering
+grounds and lily-ponds, some even finding their way into the very beds
+of the people; when the trees were deserted of birds, and alligators
+prowled across the terraces, depredating the poultry-yard and even
+threatening the negro children.</p>
+
+<p>In the presence of so manifold disaster many of the negroes returned to
+voodooism, and nude dances by weird fires offered to Satan supplanted
+the shouting of the name of Christ in the churches. A red streak in the
+sky over the brake was regarded as an omen of blood&mdash;the thunderbolt
+which struck the smoke-stack of the sugar-house a command to stop work.</p>
+
+<p>Old women who had treated the sick with savory teas of roots and herbs
+lapsed into conjuring with bits of hair and bones. A rabbit's foot was
+more potent than medicine; a snake's tooth wet with swamp scum and dried
+in the glare of burning sulphur more to be feared than God.</p>
+
+<p>War, death and birth and death again, followed by scant provender
+threatening famine, and then by the invasion of serpents, had struck
+terror into hearts already tremulous and half afraid.</p>
+
+<p>The word "freedom" had scarcely reached the island and set the air
+vibrating with hope, commingled with dread, when the reported death of
+the master came as a grim corroboration of the startling prospect.</p>
+
+<p>All this is an open story.</p>
+
+<p>But how Israel and Hannah, aided in their flight by a faithful few,
+slipped away one dark night, carrying the young child with them to bear
+her safely to her father's people, knowing nothing of their absence,
+pending the soldier's return&mdash;for the two never believed him dead; how,
+when they had nearly reached the rear lands of the paternal place, they
+were met by an irresistible flood which turned them back; and how,
+barely escaping with their lives, they were finally rowed in a skiff
+quite through the hall of the great house&mdash;so high, indeed, that Mammy
+rescued a family portrait from the wall as they passed; how the baby
+slept through it all, and the dog followed, swimming&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>This is part of the inside history never publicly told.</p>
+
+<p>The little party was taken aboard a boat which waited midstream, a tug
+which became so overcrowded that it took no account of passengers whom
+it carried safely to the city. Of the poor forlorn lot, a few found
+their way back to the plantations in search of survivors, but in most
+instances, having gone too soon, they returned disheartened.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Le Duc, who, with her guests and servants, had fled from the
+homestead at the first warning, did not hear for months of the flight of
+the old people with her grandchild, and of their supposed fate. No one
+doubted that all three had perished in the river, and the news came as
+tardy death tidings again&mdash;tidings arriving after the manner of war
+news, which often put whole families in and out of mourning, in and out
+of season.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>There is not space here to dwell upon Harold's final return to Brake
+Island, bent and broken, unkempt,&mdash;disguised by the marks of sorrow,
+unrecognized, as he had hoped to be, of the straggling few of his own
+negroes whom he encountered camping in the wood, imprisoned by fear.
+These, mistaking him for a tramp, avoided him. He had heard the news <i>en
+route</i>,&mdash;the "news," then several years old,&mdash;and had, nevertheless,
+yielded to a sort of blind, stumbling fascination which drew him back to
+the scene of his happiness and his despair. Here, after all, was the
+real battle-field&mdash;and he was again vanquished.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the homestead, he found it wholly deserted. The "big
+house," sacred to superstition through its succession of tragedies, was
+as Mammy and Israel had left it. Even its larder was untouched, and the
+key of the wine-cellar lay imbedded in rust in sight of the cob-webbed
+door.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sad man, prematurely gray, and still gaunt&mdash;and white with the
+pallor of the hospital prison&mdash;who, after this sorrowful pilgrimage to
+Brake Island, appeared, as from the grave, upon the streets of New
+Orleans. When he was reinstated in his broken home, and known once more
+of his family and friends, he would easily have become the popular hero
+of the hour, for the gay world flung its gilded doors open to him.</p>
+
+<p>The Latin temperament of old New Orleans kept always a song in her
+throat, even through all the sad passages of her history; and there was
+never a year when the French quarter, coquette that she was, did not
+shake her flounces and dance for a season with her dainty toes against
+the lower side of Canal Street.</p>
+
+<p>But Harold was not a fellow of forgetful mind. The arch of his life was
+broken, it is true, but like that of the bridge he had begun&mdash;a bridge
+which was to invite the gay world, yes, but which would ever have
+dominated it, letting its sails pass under&mdash;he could be no other than a
+worthy ruin. Had his impetuous temper turned upon himself on his return
+to the island, where devastation seemed to mock him at every turn, there
+is no telling where it might have driven him. But a lonely mother, and
+the knowledge that his father had died of a broken heart upon the report
+of his death, the last of his three sons&mdash;the pathetic, dependence of
+his mother upon him&mdash;the appeal of her doting eyes and the exigencies of
+an almost hopeless financial confusion&mdash;all these combined as a
+challenge to his manhood to take the helm in the management of a wrecked
+estate.</p>
+
+<p>It was a saving situation. How often is work the great savior of men!</p>
+
+<p>Once stirred in the direction of effort, Harold soon developed great
+genius for the manipulation of affairs. Reorganization began with his
+control.</p>
+
+<p>Square-shouldered and straight as an Indian, clear of profile,
+deep-eyed, and thoughtful of visage, the young man with the white hair
+was soon a marked figure. When even serious men "went foolish over him,"
+it is not surprising that ambitious mothers of marriageable daughters,
+in these scant days of dearth of men, should have exhibited occasional
+fluttering anxieties while they placed their broken fortunes in his
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly at first, but afterward seeing his way through experience,
+Harold became authorized agent for some of the best properties along the
+river, saving what was left, and sometimes even recovering whole estates
+for the women in black who had known before only how to be good and
+beautiful in the romantic homes and gardens whose pervading perfume had
+been that of the orange-blossom.</p>
+
+<p>It was on returning hurriedly from a trip to one of these places on the
+upper river&mdash;the property of one Marie Estelle Josephine Ramsey de La
+Rose, widowed at "Yellow Tavern"&mdash;that he sought the ferry skiff on the
+night old man Israel answered the call.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little the old man dreamed, while he waited, midstream, trying to think
+out his problem, that the solution was so near at hand.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen how the old wife waited and prayed on the shore; how with
+her shaded mind she groped, as many a wiser has done, for a comforting,
+common-sense understanding of faith, that intangible "substance of
+things hoped for," that elusive "evidence of things not seen."</p>
+
+<p>In a moment after she heard the creaking of the timbers as the skiff
+chafed the landing, even while she rose, as was her habit, to see who
+might be coming over so late, she dimly perceived two men approaching,
+Israel and another; and presently she saw that Israel held the man's
+hand and that he walked unsteadily.</p>
+
+<p>She started, fearing that her man was hurt; but before she could find
+voice of fear or question, Israel had drawn the stranger to her and was
+saying in a broken voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Hannah! Hannah! Heah Mars' Harol'!"</p>
+
+<p>Only a moment before, with her dim eyes fixed upon the sky, she had
+experienced a realization of faith, and believed herself confidently
+awaiting her master's coming. And yet, seeing him now in the flesh
+before her, she exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"What foolishness is dis, ole man? Don't practice no jokes on me
+to-night, Isrul!"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was almost gruff, and she drew back as she spoke. But even
+while she protested, Harold had laid his hand upon her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy," he whispered huskily, "don't you know your 'indurin' devil'&mdash;?"
+(This had been her last, worst name for her favorite during his mischief
+period.)</p>
+
+<p>Harold never finished his sentence. The first sound of his voice had
+identified him, but the shock had confused her. When at last she sobbed
+"Hush! I say, hush!" her arms were about his knees and she was crying
+aloud.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a>
+<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<h3>"Her arms were about his knees"</h3>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>"Glo-o-o&mdash;oh&mdash;glo-o-o&mdash;glo-o-ry! Oh, my Gord!" But presently, wiping her
+eyes, she stammered: "What kep' you so, Baby? Hol' me up, chile&mdash;hol'
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>She was falling, but Harold steadied her with strong arms, pressing her
+into her chair, but retaining her trembling hand while he sat upon the
+low table beside her.</p>
+
+<p>He could not speak at once, but, seeing her head drop upon her bosom, he
+called quickly to Israel. For answer, a clarion note, in no wise muffled
+by the handkerchief from which it issued, came from the woodpile. Israel
+was shy of his emotions and had hidden himself.</p>
+
+<p>By the time he appeared, sniffling, Hannah had rallied, and was pressing
+Harold from her to better study his face at long range.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened to yo' hair, Baby?" she said presently. "Hit looks as
+bright as dat flaxion curl o' yoze I got in my Testamen'. I was lookin'
+at it only a week ago las' Sunday, an' wishin' I could read de book
+'long wid de curl."</p>
+
+<p>"It is much lighter than that, Mammy. It is whiter than yours. I have
+lived the sorrows of a long life in a few years."</p>
+
+<p>Israel still stood somewhat aside and was taking no note of their
+speech, which he presently interrupted nervously:</p>
+
+<p>"H-how you reckon Mars' Harol' knowed me, Hannah? He&mdash;he reco'nized his
+horn! You ricollec' when I fotched dat horn f'om de islan' roun' my
+neck, clean 'crost de flood, you made game o' me, an' I say I mought
+have need of it? But of co'se I didn't ca'culate to have it ac-<i>chilly</i>
+call Mars' Harol' home! I sho' didn't! But dat's what it done. Cep'n'
+for de horn's call bein' so familius, he'd 'a' paid me my dime like a
+stranger an' passed on."</p>
+
+<p>At this Harold laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure enough, Uncle Israel; you didn't collect my ferriage, did you? I
+reckon you'll have to charge that."</p>
+
+<p>Israel chuckled:</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, Hannah, listen! Don't dat soun' like ole times? Dey don't charge
+nothin' in dese han'-to-mouf days, Marse Harol'&mdash;not roun' heah."</p>
+
+<p>"But tell me, Uncle Israel, how did you happen to bring that old horn
+with you&mdash;sure enough?" Harold interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"I jes fotched it <i>'ca'se I couldn't leave it</i>&mdash;de way Hannah snatched
+yo' po'trit off de wall&mdash;all in dat deluge. Hit's heah in de cabin now
+to witness de trip. But in co'se o' time de horn, hit come handy when I
+tuk de ferry-skift.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Hannah, when he stepped aboa'd, he all but shuk de ole skift to
+pieces. I ought to knowed dat Le Duc high-step, but I didn't. I jes felt
+his tread, an' s'luted him for a gentleman, an' axed him for Gord sake
+to set down befo' we'd be capsided in de river. I war n't cravin' to
+git drownded wid no aristoc'acy.</p>
+
+<p>"De moon she was hidin', dat time, an' we couldn't see much; but he
+leant over an' he say, 'Uncle,' he say, 'who blowed dat horn 'crost de
+river?' An' I say, 'Me, sir. I blowed it.' Den he say, 'Whose horn <i>is</i>
+dat?' An' I 'spon', 'Hit's <i>my</i> horn, sir.' Den my conscience begin to
+gnaw, an' I sort o' stammered, 'Leastways, it b'longs to a frien' o'
+mine wha' look like he ain't nuver gwine to claim it.' I ain't say who
+de frien' was, but d'rec'ly he pushed me to de wall. He ax me p'intedly
+to my face, 'What yo' frien' name, uncle?' An at dat I got de big head
+an' I up an' snap out:</p>
+
+<p>"'Name Le Duc, sir, Harry Le Duc.'</p>
+
+<p>"Jes free an' easy, so, I say it. Lord have mussy! Ef I'd s'picioned dat
+was Mars' Harol' settin' up dar listenin' at me callin' his name so
+sociable an' free, I'd 'a' drapped dem oa's overbo'ad. I sho' would.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when I say 'Harry Le Duc,' seem like he got kind o' seasick, de
+way he bent his head down, an' I ax him how he come on&mdash;ef he got de
+miz'ry anywhars. An' wid dat he sort o' give out a dry laugh, an' den
+what you reckon he ax me? He say, 'Uncle, is you married?' An' wid dat
+<i>I</i> laughed. 'T war n't no trouble for me to laugh at dat. I 'spon',
+'Yas, sirree! You bet I is! Does I look like air rovin' bachelor?' I was
+jes about half mad by dis time.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so he kep' on quizzifyin' me: ax me whar I live, an' I tol' 'im I
+was a ole risidenter on de levee heah for five years past; an' so we run
+on, back an' fo'th, tell we teched de sho'. An' time de skift bumped de
+landin' he laid his han' on me an' he say, 'Unc' Isrul, whar's Mammy
+Hannah?' An' den&mdash;bless Gord! I knowed him! But I ain't trus' myself to
+speak. I des nachelly clawed him an' drug him along to you. I seen de
+fulfilment o' promise, an' my heart was bustin' full, but I ain't got no
+halleluiah tongue like you. I jes passed him along to you an' made for
+de woodpile!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a great moment for Harold, this meeting with the only people
+living who could tell all there was to know of those who were gone.</p>
+
+<p>Hannah's memory was too photographic for judicious reminiscence. The
+camera's great imperfection lies in its very accuracy in recording
+non-essentials, with resulting confusion of values. So the old woman,
+when she turned her mental search-light backward, "beginning at the
+beginning," which to Harold seemed the end of all&mdash;the day of his
+departure,&mdash;recounted every trivial incident of the days, while Harold
+listened through the night, often suffering keenly in his eagerness to
+know the crucial facts, yet fearing to interrupt her lest some precious
+thing be lost.</p>
+
+<p>A reflected sunrise was reddening the sky across the river when she
+reached the place in the story relating to the baby. Her description
+needed not any coloring of love to make it charming, and while he
+listened the father murmured under his breath:</p>
+
+<p>"And then to have lost her!"</p>
+
+<p>"What dat you say, Marse Harol'?" Hannah gasped, her quick ears having
+caught his despairing tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing, Mammy. Go on. It did seem cruel to have the little one
+drowned. But I don't blame you. It is a miracle that you old people
+saved yourselves."</p>
+
+<p>The old woman turned to her husband and threw up her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Wh-why, Isrul!" she stammered.</p>
+
+<p>"What's de matter wid you&mdash;to set heah all night an' listen at me
+talkin' all roun' de baby&mdash;an' ain't named her yit!"</p>
+
+<p>She rose and, drawing Harold after her, entered the door at her back. As
+she pulled aside the curtain a ray of sunlight fell full upon the
+sleeping child.</p>
+
+<p>"Heah yo' baby, Baby!" Her low voice, steadied by its passages through
+greater crises, was even and gentle.</p>
+
+<p>She laid her hand upon the child.</p>
+
+<p>"Wek up, baby! Wek up!" she cried. "Yo' pa done come! Wek up!"</p>
+
+<p>Without stirring even so much as a thread of her golden hair upon the
+pillow, the child opened a pair of great blue eyes and looked from
+Mammy's face to the man's. Then,&mdash;so much surer is a child's faith than
+another's,&mdash;doubting not at all, she raised her little arms.</p>
+
+<p>Her father, already upon his knees beside her, bent over, bringing his
+neck within her embrace, while he inclosed her slender body with his
+arms. Thus he remained, silent, for a moment, for the agony of his joy
+was beyond tears or laughter. But presently he lifted his child, and,
+sitting, took her upon his lap. He could not speak yet, for while he
+smoothed her beautiful hair and studied her face, noting the blue depths
+of her darkly fringed eyes, the name that trembled for expression within
+his lips was "Agnes&mdash;Agnes."</p>
+
+<p>"How beautiful she is!" he whispered presently; and then, turning to
+Hannah, "And how carefully you have kept her! Everything&mdash;so sweet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yas!" the old woman hastened to answer. "We ain't spared no pains
+on 'er, Marse Harol'. She done had eve'ything we could git for her, by
+hook or by crook. Of co'se she ain't had no <i>white kin</i> to christen her,
+an' dat was a humiliation to us. She didn't have no to say legal person
+to bring 'er for'ard, so she ain't nuver been <i>ca'yed up in church</i>; but
+she's had every sort o' christenin' we could reach.</p>
+
+<p>"I knowed yo' pa's ma, ole Ma'am Toinette, she'd turn in her grave
+lessen her gran'chil' was christened Cat'lic, so I had her christened
+dat way. Dat ole half-blind priest, Father Some'h'n' other, wha' comes
+from Bayou de Glaise, he was conductin' mass meetin' or some'h'n' other,
+down here in Bouligny, an' I took de baby down, an' he sprinkled her in
+Latin or some'h'n' other, an' ornamented behind her ears wid unctious
+ile, an' crossed her little forehead, an' made her eat a few grains o'
+table salt. He <i>done it straight</i>, wid all his robes on, an' I g'in him
+a good dollar, too. An' dat badge you see on her neck, a sister o'
+charity, wid one o' dese clair-starched ear-flap sunbonnets on, she put
+dat on her. She say she give it to her to wear so 's she could n't git
+drownded&mdash;<i>like as ef I'd let her drownd</i>. Yit an' still I lef' it so,
+an' I even buys a fresh blue ribbin for it, once-t an'a while. I hear
+'em say dat blue hit's de Hail Mary color&mdash;an' it becomes her eyes, too.
+Dey say what don't pizen fattens, an' I know dem charms couldn't do her
+no hurt, an', of 'co'se, we don't know all. Maybe dey mought ketch de
+eye of a hoverin' angel in de air an' bring de baby into Heavenly
+notice. Of co'se, I wouldn't put no sech as dat on her. I ain't been
+raised to it, an' I ain't no beggin' hycoprite. But I wouldn't take it
+off, nuther.</p>
+
+<p>"Den, I knowed ole Mis', yo' ma, she was 'Pistopal, an' Miss Aggie she
+was Numitarium; so every time a preacher'd be passin' I'd git him to
+perform it his way. Me bein' Baptis' I didn't have no nigger baptism to
+saddle on her.</p>
+
+<p>"So she's bounteously baptized&mdash;yas, sir. I reasoned it out dat ef dey's
+only one <i>true</i> baptism, an' I war n't to say <i>shore</i> which one it was,
+I better git 'em all, an' only de <i>onlies'</i> true one would <i>count</i>; an'
+den ag'in, ef all honest baptisms is good, den de mo' de merrier, as de
+Book say. Of co'se I knowed pyore rain-water sprinkled on wid a blessin'
+couldn't hurt no chile.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, when one side de house is <i>French distraction</i> an' de yether
+is <i>English to-scent</i>, an' dey's a dozen side-nations wid <i>blood to
+tell</i> in all de branches,&mdash;well, hit minds me o' dis <i>ba'm of a thousan'
+flowers</i> dat ole Mis' used to think so much of. Hits hard to 'stinguish
+out any one flagrams.</p>
+
+<p>"But talkin' about de baby, she ain't been deprived, no mo' 'n de Lord
+deprived her, for a season, of her rights to high livin' an'&mdash;an'
+aristoc'acy&mdash;an'&mdash;an' petigree, an' posterity, an' all sech as dat.</p>
+
+<p>"An'&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What dat you say, Mars' Harol'? What <i>name</i> is we&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"We ain't dast to give 'er no name, Baby, no mo' 'n jes Blossom. I got
+'er wrote down in five citi<i>fic</i>ates 'Miss Blossom,' jes so. No, sir. I
+knows my colored place, an' I'll go so far, an' dat's all de further.
+She was jes as much a blossom befo' she was christened as she was
+arterwards, so my namin' 'er don't count. I was 'mos' tempted to call
+out 'Agnes' to de preachers, when dey'd look to me for a name, seem' it
+was her right&mdash;like as ef she was borned to it; but&mdash;I ain't nuver
+imposed on her. No, sir, we ain't imposed on her noways.</p>
+
+<p>"De on'iest wrong I ever done her&mdash;an' Gord knows I done it to save her
+to my arms, an' for you, marster&mdash;de on'iest wrong was to let her go
+widout her little sunbonnet an' git her skin browned up so maybe nobody
+wouldn't s'picion she was clair white an' like as not try to wrest her
+from me. An' <i>one</i> time, when a uppish yo'ng man ast me her name, I
+said it straight, but I see him look mighty cu'yus, an' I spoke up an'
+say, 'What other name you 'spect' her to have? My name is Hannah Le Duc,
+an' I's dat child's daddy's mammy.' Excuse me, Mars' Harold, but you
+know I <i>is</i> yo' <i>black</i> mammy&mdash;<i>an' I was in so'e straits</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"So de yo'ng man, well, he didn't seem to have no raisin'. He jes sort
+o' whistled, an' say I sho is got one mighty blon' gran'chil'&mdash;an' I
+'spon', 'Yas, sir; so it seems.'</p>
+
+<p>"An' dat's de on'ies' wrong I ever done her. She sets up at her little
+dinner-table sot wid a table-cloth an' a white napkin,&mdash;an' I done buyed
+her a ginuine silver-plated napkin-ring to hold it in, too,&mdash;an' she
+says her own little blessin'&mdash;dat short 'Grace o' Gord&mdash;material
+binefets,' one o' Miss Aggie's; I learned it to her. No, she ain't been
+handled keerless, ef she is been livin' on de outside o' de levee, like
+free niggers. But we ain't to say <i>lived</i> here, 'not perzackly,
+marster. We jes been waitin' along, <i>so</i>, dese five years&mdash;waitin' for
+to-night.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't nuver sorted her clo'es out into no bureau; I keeps 'em all in
+her little trunk, perpared to move along."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the realization of the culmination of her faith seemed to
+suffuse her soul, and as she proceeded, her voice fell in soft, rhythmic
+undulations.</p>
+
+<p>"Ya-as, Mars' Harol', Mammy's baby boy, yo' ol' nuss she been waitin',
+an' o-ole man Isrul <i>he</i> been waitin', an' de Blossom <i>she</i> been
+waitin'. I 'spec' she had de firmes' faith, arter all, de baby did. Day
+by day we all waited&mdash;an' night by night. An' sometimes when courage
+would burn low an' de lamp o' faith grow dim, seem like we'd a' broke
+loose an' started a-wanderin' in a sort o' blind search, <i>'cep'n' for de
+river</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Look like ef we'd ever went beyan' de river's call, we'd been same as
+de chillen o' Isrul lost in de tanglement o' de wilderness. All we river
+chillen, we boun' to stay by her, same as toddlin' babies hangs by a
+mammy's skirts. She'll whup us one day, an' chastise us severe; den
+she'll bring us into de light, same as she done to-night&mdash;same as reel
+mammies does.</p>
+
+<p>"An', Mars' Harol'&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She lowered her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Mars' Harol', don't tell me she don't know! I tell yer, me an' dis
+River we done spent many a dark night together under de stars, an' we
+done talked an' answered one another so many lonely hours&mdash;an' she done
+showed us so many mericles on land <i>an'</i> water&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I tell yer, I done found out some'h'n' about de River, Mars' Harol'.
+She's&mdash;why, she's&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ef I could only write it all down to go in a book! We been th'ough
+some <i>merac'lous</i> times together, sho' 's you born&mdash;sho' 's you born.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a mericle mystery, sho'!</p>
+
+<p>"You lean over an' dip yo' han' in her an' you take it up an' you say
+it's <i>wet</i>. You dig yo' oars into her, an' she'll spin yo' boat over her
+breast. You dive down into her, an' you come up&mdash;<i>or don't come up</i>.
+Some eats her. Some drinks her. Some gethers wealth outen her. Some
+draps it into her. Some drownds in her.</p>
+
+<p>"An' she gives an' takes, an' seem like all her chillen gits
+satisfaction outen her, one way an' another; but yit an' still, she
+ain't nuver flustered. On an' on she goes&mdash;rain or shine&mdash;high
+water&mdash;low water&mdash;all de same&mdash;on an' on.</p>
+
+<p>"When she craves diamonds for her neck, she reaches up wid long
+onvisible hands an' gethers de stars out'n de firmamint.</p>
+
+<p>"De moon is her common breastpin, an' de sun&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Even he don't faze her. She takes what she wants, an' sends back his
+fire every day.</p>
+
+<p>"De mists is a veil for her face, an' de showers fringes it.</p>
+
+<p>"Sunrise or dusklight, black night or midday, every change she answers
+<i>whilst she's passin'</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"But who ever <i>in</i>ticed her to stop or to look or listen? Nobody, Baby.
+An' why?</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Lord! ef eve'ybody only knowed!</p>
+
+<p>"You see, all sech as dat, I used to study over it an' ponder befo' we
+started to talk back an' fo'th&mdash;de River an' me.</p>
+
+<p>"One dark night she heared me cryin' low on de bank, whilst de ole man
+stepped into de boat to row 'crost de water, an' she felt Wood-duck
+settle heavy on her breast, an' she seen dat we carried de same
+troublous thought&mdash;searchin' an' waitin' for the fulfilment o' promise.</p>
+
+<p>"An' so we started to call&mdash;an' to answer, heart to heart."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The story is nearly told. No doubt many would be willing to have it stop
+here. But a tale of the river is a tale of greed, and must have
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>While father and child sat together, Israel came, bringing fresh chips.
+He had been among the woodpiles again. This time there followed him the
+dog.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Blucher!" Harold exclaimed. "Blucher, old fellow!" And at his
+voice the dog, whining and sniffing, climbed against his shoulder, even
+licking his face and his hand. Then, running off, he barked at Israel
+and Hannah, telling them in fine dog Latin who the man was who had come.
+Then he crouched at his feet, and, after watching his face a moment,
+laid his head upon his master's right foot, a trick Harold had taught
+him as a pup.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2>
+
+
+<p>Of course Harold wished to take the entire family home with him at once,
+and would hear to nothing else until Hannah, serving black coffee to him
+from her furnace, in the dawn, begged that she and Israel might have "a
+few days to rest an' to study" before moving.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the second evening following this, at nightfall, while her man
+was away in his boat, that the old woman rose from her chair and, first
+studying the heavens and then casting about her to see that no one was
+near, she went down to the water, slowly picking her way to a shallow
+pool between the rafts and the shore. She sat here at first, upon the
+edge of the bank, frankly dropping her feet into the water while she
+seemed to begin to talk&mdash;or possibly she sang, for the low sound which
+only occasionally rose above the small noises of the rafts was faintly
+suggestive of a priest's intoning.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment only, she sat thus. Then she began to lower herself into
+the water, until, leaning, she could lay her face against the sod, so
+that a wave passed over it, and when, letting her weight go, she
+subsided, with arms extended, into the shallow pool, a close listener
+might have heard an undulating song, so like the river's in tone as to
+be separable from it only through the faint suggestion of words,
+interrupted or drowned at intervals by the creaking and knocking of the
+rafts and the gurgling of the sucking eddies about them.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's voice&mdash;song, speech, or what not?&mdash;<i>seemed</i> intermittent, as
+if in converse with another presence.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, while she stood thus, she dropped bodily, going fully under
+the water for a brief moment, as if renewing her baptism, and when she
+presently lifted herself, she was crying aloud, sobbing as a child sobs
+in the awful momentary despair of grief at the untwining of
+arms&mdash;shaken, unrestrained.</p>
+
+<p>While she stood thus for a few minutes only,&mdash;a pathetic waste of
+sorrow, wet, dark and forlorn, alone on the night-shore,&mdash;a sudden wind,
+a common evening current, threw a foaming wave over the logs beside her
+so that its spray covered her over; while the straining ropes, breaking
+and bumping timbers, with the slow dripping of the spent wave through
+the raft, seemed to answer and possibly to assuage her agitation; for,
+as the wind passed and the waters subsided, she suddenly grew still,
+and, climbing the bank as she had come, walked evenly as one at peace,
+into her cabin.</p>
+
+<p>No one will ever know what, precisely, was the nature of this last
+communion. Was it simply an intimate leave-taking of a faithful
+companionship grown dear through years of stress? Or had it deeper
+meaning in a realization&mdash;or hallucination&mdash;as to the personality of the
+river&mdash;the "secret" to which she only once mysteriously referred in a
+gush of confidence on her master's return?</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps she did not know herself, or only vaguely felt what she could
+not tell. Certainly not even to her old husband, one with her in life
+and spirit, did she try to convey this mystic revelation. We know by
+intuition the planes upon which our minds may meet with those of our
+nearest and dearest. To the good man and soldier, Israel,&mdash;the prophet,
+even, who held up the wavering hands of the imaginative woman when her
+courage waned, pointing to the hour of fulfilment,&mdash;the great river,
+full of potencies for good or ill, could be only a river. As a mirror it
+had shown him divinity, and in its character it might <i>typify</i> to his
+image-loving mind another thing which service would make it precious.
+But what he would have called his sanity&mdash;had he known the word&mdash;would
+have obliged him to stop there.</p>
+
+<p>The stars do not tell, and the poor moon&mdash;at best only hinting what the
+sun says&mdash;is fully half-time off her mind. And the <span class="smcap">soul of the
+River</span>&mdash;if, indeed, it has once broken silence&mdash;may not speak again.</p>
+
+<p>And, so, her secret is safe&mdash;safe even if the broken winds did catch a
+breath, here and there, sending it flurriedly through and over the logs
+until they trembled with a sort of mad harp-consciousness, and were set
+a-quivering for just one full strain&mdash;one coherent expression of
+soul-essence&mdash;when the wave broke. Perhaps the arms of the twin spirits
+were untwined&mdash;and they went their separate ways smiling&mdash;the woman and
+the river.</p>
+
+<p>When, after a short time, the old wife came out, dressed in fresh
+clothing, her white, starched tignon shining in the moonlight, to sit
+and talk with her husband, her composure was as perfect as that of the
+face of the water which in its serenity suggested the voice of the
+Master, when Peter would have sunk but for his word.</p>
+
+<p>This was to be their last night here. Harold was to bring a carriage on
+the next day to take them to his mother and Blossom, and, despite the
+joy in their old hearts, it cost them a pang to contemplate going away.
+Every woodpile seemed to hold a memory, each feature of the bank a
+tender association. Blucher lay sleeping beside them.</p>
+
+<p>Israel spoke first.</p>
+
+<p>"Hannah!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Isrul?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ready to go home to-night, Hannah. Marse Harol' done come. We done
+finished our 'sponsibility&mdash;an' de big river's a-flowin' on to de
+sea&mdash;an' settin' heah, I 'magines I kin see Mis' Aggie lookin' down on
+us, an' seem like she mought want to consult wid us arter our meetin'
+wid Marse Harol' an' we passin' Blossom along. What you say, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"I been tired, ole man, an' ef we could 'a' went las' night, like you
+say, seem like I 'd 'a' been ready&mdash;an', of co'se, I'm ready now, ef
+Gord wills. Peace is on my sperit. Yit an' still, when we rests off a
+little an' studies freedom free-handed, we won't want to hasten along
+maybe. Ef we was to set heah an' wait tell Gord calls us,&mdash;He ain't ap'
+to call us bofe together, an' dey'd be lonesome days for the last one.
+But ef we goes 'long wid Marse Harol', he an' Blossom'll be a heap o'
+comfort to de one what's left."</p>
+
+<p>"Hannah!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"We's a-settin' to-night close to de brink&mdash;ain't dat so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"An' de deep waters is in sight, eh, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"An' we heah it singin', ef we listen close, eh, Hannah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Isrul."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't let 's forgit it, dat 's all. Don't let's forgit, when we
+turns our backs on dis swellin' tide, dat de river o' Jordan is jes
+befo' us, all de same&mdash;an' it can't be long befo' our crossin'-time."</p>
+
+<p>"Amen!" said the woman.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The moon shone full upon the great river, making a shimmering path of
+light from shore to shore, when the old couple slowly rose and went to
+rest.</p>
+
+<p>Toward morning there was a quick gurgling sound in front of the cabin.
+Blucher caught it, and, springing out, barked at the stars. The sleepers
+within the levee hut slept on, being overweary.</p>
+
+<p>The watchman in the Carrollton garden heard the sound,&mdash;heard it swell
+almost to a roar,&mdash;and he ran to the new levee, reaching its summit just
+in time to see the roof of the cabin as it sank, with the entire point
+of land upon which it rested, into the greedy flood.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>When Harold Le Duc arrived that morning to take the old people home, the
+river came to meet him at the brim of the near bank, and its face was as
+the face of smiling innocence.</p>
+
+<p>While he stood awe-stricken before the awful fact so tragically
+expressed in the river's bland denial, a wet dog came, and, whining,
+crouched at his feet. He barked softly, laid his head a moment upon his
+master's boot, moaned a sort of confidential note, and, looking into the
+air, barked again, softly.</p>
+
+<p>Did he see more than he could tell? Was he trying to comfort his master?
+He had heard all the sweet converse of the old people on that last
+night, and perhaps he was saying in his poor best speech that all was
+well.</p>
+
+<p>Mammy Hannah and Uncle Israel, having discharged their responsibility,
+had crossed the River together.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PART_THIRD" id="PART_THIRD"></a>PART THIRD</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Oh, it 's windy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sweet Lucindy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On de river-bank to-night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">An' de moontime<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Beats de noontime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When de trimblin' water 's white."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p>So runs the plantation love-song, and so sang a great brown fellow as,
+with oars over his shoulder, he strolled down "Lovers' Lane," between
+the <i>bois d'arcs</i>, toward the Mississippi levee.</p>
+
+<p>He repeated it correctly until he neared the gourd-vine which marked the
+home of his lady, when he dropped his voice a bit and, eschewing rhyme
+for the greater value, sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Oh, it 's windy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sweet Maria,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On de river-bank to-night&mdash;"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And slackening his pace until he heard footsteps behind him, he stopped
+and waited while a lithe yellow girl overtook him languidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Heah, you take yo' sheer o' de load!" he laughed as he handed her one
+of the oars. "Better begin right. You tote half an' me half." And as she
+took the oar he added, "How is you to-night, anyhow, sugar-gal?"</p>
+
+<p>While he put his right arm around her waist, having shifted the
+remaining oar to his left side, the girl instinctively bestowed the one
+she carried over her right shoulder, so that her left arm was free for
+reciprocity, to which it naďvely devoted itself.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell yer, hit 's fine an' windy to-night, sho' enough," he said. "De
+breeze on de levee is fresh an' cool, an' de skift she's got a new
+yaller-buff frock, an' she&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Which skift? De <i>Malviny</i>? Is you give her a fresh coat o' paint? An'
+dat's my favoryte color&mdash;yaller-buff!" This with a chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>"No; dey ain't no <i>Malviny</i> skift no mo'&mdash;not on dis plantation. I done
+changed her name."</p>
+
+<p>"You is, is yer? What is you named her dis time?"</p>
+
+<p>She was preparing to express surprise in the surely expected. Of course
+the boat was renamed the <i>Maria</i>. What else, in the circumstances?</p>
+
+<p>"I painted her after a lady-frien's complexion, a bright, clair yaller;
+but as to de name&mdash;guess!" said the man, with a lunge toward the girl,
+as the oar he carried struck a tree&mdash;a lunge which brought him into
+position to touch her ear with his lips while he repeated: "What you
+reckon I named her, sweetenin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know? I ain't in yo' heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't, ain't yer? Ef you ain't, I'd like mighty well to know who
+is. You's a reg'lar risidenter, you is&mdash;an' you knows it, too! Guess
+along, gal. What you think de boat's named?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ef you persises for me to guess, I'll say <i>Silv' Ann</i>. Dat 's a
+purty title for a skift."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Silv' Ann!</i>" contemptuously. "I 'clare, M'ria, I b'lieve you 's
+jealous-hearted. No, indeedy! I know I run 'roun' wid Silv' Ann awhile
+back, jes to pass de time, but she can't name none o' my boats! No; ef
+you won't guess, I'll tell yer&mdash;dat is, I'll give you a hint. She named
+for my best gal! <i>Now guess!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"I never was no hand at guessin'." The girl laughed while she tossed her
+head. "Heah, take dis oah, man, an' lemme walk free. I ain't ingaged to
+tote no half-load <i>yit</i>&mdash;as I knows on. Lordy, but dat heavy paddle done
+put my whole arm to sleep. Ouch! boy. Hands off tell de pins an' needles
+draps out. I sho' is glad to go rowin' on de water to-night."</p>
+
+<p>So sure was she now of her lover, and of the honor which he tossed as a
+ball in his hands, never letting her quite see it, that she whimsically
+put away the subject.</p>
+
+<p>She had been to school several summers and could decipher a good many
+words, but most surely, from proud practice, she could spell her own
+name. As they presently climbed the levee together, she remarked, seeing
+the water: "Whar is de boat, anyhow&mdash;de What-you-may-call-it? She ain't
+in sight&mdash;not heah!"</p>
+
+<p>"No; she's a little piece up de current&mdash;in de willer-clump. I didn't
+want nobody foolin' wid 'er&mdash;an' maybe readin' off my affairs. She got
+her new intitlemint painted on her stern&mdash;every letter a different
+color, to match de way her namesake treats me&mdash;in a new light every
+day."</p>
+
+<p>The girl giggled foolishly. She seemed to see the contour of her own
+name, a bouquet of color reaching across the boat, and it pleased her.
+It would be a witness for her&mdash;to all who could read.</p>
+
+<p>"I sho' does like boats an' water," she generalized, as they walked on.</p>
+
+<p>"Me, too," agreed her lover; "but I likes anything&mdash;wid my chosen
+company. What is dat whizzin' past my face? Look like a honey-bee."</p>
+
+<p>"'T is a honey-bee. Dey comes up heah on account o' de chiny-flowers.
+But look out! Dat's another! You started 'em time you drug yo' oah in de
+mids' o' dem chiny-blossoms. Whenever de chiny-trees gits too sickenin'
+sweet, look out for de bees!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas," chuckled de man; "an' dey's a lesson in dat, ef we'd study over
+it. Whenever life gits too sweet, look out for trouble! But we won't
+worry 'bout dat to-night. Is you 'feared o' stingin' bees?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not whilst dey getherin' honey&mdash;dey too busy. Hit 's de idlers dat
+I shun. An' I ain't afeared o' trouble, nuther. Yit an' still, ef
+happiness is a sign, I better look sharp."</p>
+
+<p>"Is you so happy, my Sugar?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know ef I is or not&mdash;I mus' see de name on dat skift befo' I
+can say. Take yo' han' off my wais', boy! Ef you don't I'll be 'feared
+o' stingin' bees, sho' enough! Don't make life <i>too</i> sweet!"</p>
+
+<p>They were both laughing when the girl dashed ahead into the
+willow-clump, Love close at her heels, and in a moment the <i>Maria</i>, in
+her gleaming dress of yellow, darted out into the sunset.</p>
+
+<p>A boat or two had preceded them, and another followed presently, but it
+takes money to own a skiff, or even to build one of the driftwood, which
+is free to the captor. And so most of the couples who sought the river
+strolled for a short space, finding secluded seats on the rough-hewn
+benches between the acacia-trees or on the drift-dogs which lined the
+water's edge. It was too warm for continued walking.</p>
+
+<p>From some of the smaller vessels, easily recognizable as of the same
+family as the fruit-luggers which crowd around "Picayune Tier" at the
+French market, there issued sweet songs in the soft Italian tongue,
+often accompanied by the accordeon.</p>
+
+<p>Young Love sang on the water in half a dozen tongues, as he sings there
+yet at every summer eventide.</p>
+
+<p>The skiffs for the most part kept fairly close to the shore, skirting
+the strong current of the channel, avoiding, too, the large steamboats,
+whose passage ever jeopardized the small craft which crossed in their
+wake.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, the passage of one of these great "packets" generally cleared
+the midstream, although a few venturesome oarsmen would often dare fate
+in riding the billows in her wake. These great steamboats were known
+among the humble river folk more for their wave-making power than for
+the proud features which distinguished them in their personal relations.</p>
+
+<p>There were those, for instance, who would watch for a certain great boat
+called the <i>Capitol</i>, just for the bravado of essaying the bubbling
+storm which followed her keel, while some who, enjoying their fun with
+less snap of danger, preferred to have their skiffs dance behind the
+<i>Laurel Hill</i>. Or perhaps it was the other way: it may have been the
+<i>Laurel Hill</i>, of the sphere-topped smoke-stacks, which made the more
+sensational passage.</p>
+
+<p>It all happened a long time ago, although only about thirteen years had
+passed since the events last related, and both boats are dead. At least
+they are out of the world of action, and let us hope they have gone to
+their rest. An old hulk stranded ashore and awaiting final dissolution
+is ever a pathetic sight, suggesting a patient paralytic in his chair,
+grimly biding fate&mdash;the waters of eternity at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>At intervals, this evening, fishermen alongshore&mdash;old negroes
+mostly&mdash;pottered among the rafts, setting their lines, and if the
+oarsmen listened keenly, they might almost surely have caught from these
+gentle toilers short snatches of low-pitched song, hymns mostly, of
+content or rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sense of the fitness of the words when an ancient fisher
+sang "Sweet fields beyan' de swelling flood," or of humor in "How firm
+a foundation," chanted by one standing boot-deep in suspicious sands.
+The favorite hymn of several of the colored fishermen, however, seemed
+to be "Cometh our fount of every blessin'," frankly so pronounced with
+reverent piety.</p>
+
+<p>At a distant end of his raft, hidden from its owner by a jutting point
+from which they leaped, naked boys waded and swam, jeering the deaf
+singer as they jeered each passing boat, while occasionally an
+adventurous fellow would dive quite under a skiff, seizing his
+opportunity while the oars were lifted.</p>
+
+<p>None of the little rowboats carried sail as a rule, although sometimes a
+sloop would float by with an air of commanding a squadron of the sparse
+fleet which extended along the length of the river.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was fallen nearly to the levee-line this evening when one of the
+finest of the "river palaces" hove in sight.</p>
+
+<p>The sky-hour for "dousing the great glim" was so near&mdash;and the actual
+setting of the sun is always sudden&mdash;that, while daylight still
+prevailed, all the steamer's lights were lit, and although the keen sun
+which struck her as a search-light robbed her thousand lamps of their
+value, the whole scene was greater for the full illumination.</p>
+
+<p>The people along shore waved to the passing boat&mdash;they always do it&mdash;and
+the more amiable of the passengers answered with flying handkerchiefs.</p>
+
+<p>As she loomed radiant before them, an aged negro, sitting mending his
+net, remarked to his companion:</p>
+
+<p>"What do she look like to you, Br'er Jones?"</p>
+
+<p>"'What she look like to me?'" The man addressed took his pipe from his
+lips at the question. "What she look like&mdash;to me?" he repeated again.
+"Why, tell the trufe, I was jes' studyin' 'bout dat when you spoke. She
+'minds me o' Heaven; dat what she signifies to my eyes&mdash;Heavenly
+mansions. What do she look like to <i>you</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," the man shifted the quid in his mouth and lowered his shuttle as
+he said slowly, "well, to my observance, she don't answer for Heaven; I
+tell yer dat: not wid all dat black smoke risin' outen 'er 'bominable
+regions. She's mo' like de yether place to <i>me</i>. She may have Heavenly
+gyarments on, but she got a hell breath, sho'. An' listen at de band o'
+music playin' devil-dance time inside her! An' when she choose to let it
+out, she's got a-a-nawful snort&mdash;she sho' is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Does you mean de cali-ope?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; she ain't got no cali-ope. I means her clair whistle. Hit's got a
+jedgment-day sound in it to my ears."</p>
+
+<p>"Dat music you heah', dat ain't no dance-music. She plays dat for de
+passengers to eat by, so dey tell me. But I reckon dey jes p'onounces
+supper dat-a-way, same as you'd ring a bell. An' when de people sets
+down to de table, dey mus' sho'ly have de manners to stop long enough to
+let 'em eat in peace. Yit an' still, whilst she looks like Heaven, I'd a
+heap ruther set heah an' see her go by 'n to put foot in her, 'ca'se I'd
+look for her to 'splode out de minute I landed in her an' to scatter my
+body in one direction an' my soul somewhars else. No; even ef she was
+Heaven, I'd ruther 'speriment heah a little longer, settin' on de sof'
+grass an' smellin' de yearnin' trees an' listenin' at de bumblebees
+a-bumblin', an' go home an' warm up my bacon an' greens for supper, an'
+maybe go out foragin' for my Sunday chicken to-night in de dark o' de
+moon. Hyah! My stomach hit rings de dinner-bell for me, jes as good as a
+brass ban'."</p>
+
+<p>"Me, too!" chuckled the smoker. "I'll take my chances on dry lan', every
+time. I know I'll nuver lead a p'ocession but once-t, and dat'll be at
+my own fun'al, an' I don't inten' to resk my chances. But she is sho'
+one noble-lookin' boat."</p>
+
+<p>By this time the great steamboat&mdash;the wonderful apparition so aptly
+typifying Heaven and hell&mdash;had passed.</p>
+
+<p>She carried only the usual number of passengers, but at this evening
+hour they crowded the guards, making a brilliant showing. Family parties
+they were mostly, with here and there groups of young folk, generally
+collected about some popular girl who formed a center around which
+coquetry played mirthfully in the breeze. A piquant Arcadian bride,
+"pretty as red shoes," artlessly appearing in all her white wedding
+toggery, her veil almost crushed by its weight of artificial
+orange-flowers, looked stoically away from the little dark husband who
+persisted in fanning her vigorously, while they sat in the sun-filled
+corner which they had taken for its shade while the boat was turned into
+the landing to take them aboard. And, of course, there was the usual
+quota of staid couples who had survived this interesting stage of life's
+game.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was exhibition of rather intimate domesticity entirely missing.
+Infancy dined in Nature's own way, behind the doubtful screening of
+waving palmetto fans. While among the teething and whooping-cough
+contingents the observer of life might have found both tragedy and
+comedy for his delectation.</p>
+
+<p>Mild, submissive mothers of families, women of the Creole middle class
+mainly,&mdash;old and withered at thirty-five, all their youthful magnolia
+tints gone wrong, as in the flower when its bloom is passed&mdash;exchanged
+maternal experiences, and agreed without dissent that the world was full
+of trouble, but "God was good."</p>
+
+<p>Even a certain slight maternal wisp who bent over a tiny waxen thing
+upon her lap, dreading each moment to perceive the flicker in her breath
+which would show that a flame went out&mdash;even she, poor tear-dimmed soul,
+said it while she answered sympathetic inquiry:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yas; it is for her we are taking de trip. Yas, she is very sick,
+<i>mais God is good</i>. It is de eye-teet'. De river's breath it is de bes'
+medicine. De doctor he prescribe it. An' my father he had las' winter
+such a so much trouble to work his heart, an' so, seeing we were coming,
+he is also here&mdash;yas, dat's heem yonder, asleep. 'T is his most best
+sleep for a year, lying so. De river she give it. An' dose ferryboat dey
+got always on board too much whooping-cough to fasten on to eye-teet."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Somewhat apart from the other passengers, their circle loosely but
+surely defined by the irregular setting of their chairs toward a common
+center, sat a group, evidently of the great world&mdash;most conspicuous
+among them a distinguished-looking couple in fresh mid-life, who led the
+animated discussion, and who were seen often to look in the direction of
+a tall and beautiful girl who stood in the midst of a circle of young
+people within easy call. It was impossible not to see that their
+interest in the girl was vital, for they often exchanged glances when
+her laughter filled the air, and laughed with her, although they knew
+only that she had laughed.</p>
+
+<p>The girl stood well in sight, although "surrounded six deep" by an
+adoring crowd; nor was this attributable alone to her height which set
+her fine little head above most of her companions. A certain distinction
+of manner&mdash;unrelated to haughtiness, which may fail in effect, or
+arrogance, which may over-ride but never appeal; perhaps it was a
+graciousness of bearing&mdash;kept her admirers ever at a tasteful distance.</p>
+
+<p>There was an ineffable charm about the girl, a thing apart from the
+unusual beauty which marked her in any gathering of which she became a
+part.</p>
+
+<p>Descriptions are hazardous and available words often inadequate to the
+veracious presentment of beauty, and yet there is ever in perfection a
+challenge to the pen.</p>
+
+<p>As the maiden stood this evening in the sunlight, her radiant yellow
+hair complementing the blue of her sea-deep eyes, her fair cheeks
+aglow, and one color melting to another in her quick movements, the
+effect was almost like an iridescence. Tender in tints as a sea-shell,
+there might have been danger of lapse into insipidity but for the accent
+of dark rims and curled lashes which individualized the eyes, and, too,
+the strong, straight lines of her contour, which, more than the note of
+dark color, marked her a Le Duc.</p>
+
+<p>There are some women who naturally hold court, no matter what the
+conditions of life, and to whom tribute comes as naturally as the air
+they breathe. It often dates back into their spelling-class days, and I
+am not sure that it does not occasionally begin in the "perambulator."</p>
+
+<p>This magnetic quality&mdash;one hesitates to use an expression so nervously
+prostrated by strenuous overwork, and yet it is well made and to
+hand&mdash;this magnetic quality, then, was probably, in Agnes Le Duc, the
+gift of the Latin strain grafted upon New England sturdiness and
+reserve, the one answering, as one might say, for ballast, while the
+other lent sail for the equable poising of a safe and brilliant
+life-craft.</p>
+
+<p>So, also, was her unusual beauty markedly a composite and of elements so
+finely contrasting that their harmonizing seemed rather a succession of
+flashes, as of opposite electric currents meeting and breaking through
+the caprice of temperamental disturbance; as in the smile which won by
+its witchery, or the illumination with which rapid thought or sudden
+pity kindled her eye.</p>
+
+<p>Educated alternately in Louisiana where she had recited her history
+lessons in French, and in New England, the pride and pet of a charmed
+Cambridge circle, with occasional trips abroad with her "parents," she
+was emerging, all unknowingly, a rather exceptional young woman for any
+place or time.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing her this evening, an enthusiast might have likened her to the
+exquisite bud of a great tea-rose, regal on a slender stem&mdash;shy of
+unfolding, yet ultimately unafraid, even through the dewy veil of
+immaturity&mdash;knowing full well, though she might not stop to remember,
+the line of court roses in her pedigree.</p>
+
+<p>Watching her so at a safe distance, one could not help wondering that
+she thought it worth her while to listen at all, seeing how her admirers
+waited upon her every utterance. To listen well has long been considered
+a grace&mdash;just to listen; but there is a still higher art, perhaps, in
+going a step beyond. It is to listen with enthusiasm, yes, even with
+<i>eloquence</i>. One having a genius for this sort of oratory, speaking
+through the inspired utterance of another, and of course supplying the
+inspiration, gains easily the reputation of "delightful conversational
+powers."</p>
+
+<p>And this was precisely an unsuspected quality which made for the sweet
+girl much of the popularity which she had never analyzed or questioned.
+She <i>could</i> talk, and in several languages, familiarly, and when the
+invitation arrived, she did&mdash;upward, with respect, to her elders (she
+had learned that both in New Orleans and in Boston); downward to her
+inferiors&mdash;with gentle directness, unmixed with over-condescension; to
+right and to left among her companions, quite as a free-hearted girl,
+with spirit and <i>camaraderie</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A quality, this, presaging social success certainly, and, it must be
+admitted, it is a quality which sometimes adorns natures wanting in
+depth of affection. That this was not true of Agnes Le Duc, however,
+seems to be clearly shown in an incident of this trip.</p>
+
+<p>As she stood with her companions this evening, while one and another
+commented upon this or that feature of the shore, they came suddenly
+upon a congregation of negroes encircling an inlet between two curves in
+the levee, and, as the low sun shone clearly into the crowd, it became
+immediately plain that a baptism was in progress.</p>
+
+<p>A line of women, robed in white, stood on one side; several men,
+likewise in white, on the other, while the minister, knee-deep in the
+water, was immersing a subject who shouted wildly as he went under and
+came up struggling as one in a fit, while two able-bodied men with
+difficulty bore him ashore.</p>
+
+<p>The scene was scarcely one to inspire reverence to a casual observer,
+and there was naturally some merriment at its expense. One playful
+comment led to another until a slashing bit of ridicule brought the
+entire ceremony into derision, and, as it happened, the remark with its
+accompanying mimicry was addressed to Agnes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please!" she pleaded, coloring deeply. "I quite understand how it
+may affect you; but&mdash;oh, it is too serious for here&mdash;too personal and
+too sacred&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>While she hesitated, the culprit, ready to crawl at her feet,&mdash;innocent,
+indeed, of the indelicacy of which he had become technically
+guilty,&mdash;begged to be forgiven. He had quite truly "meant no harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am quite sure of it," the girl smiled; "but now that I have
+spoken,&mdash;and really I could not help it; I could not wish to let it
+pass, understand,&mdash;but now that I have spoken&mdash;oh, what shall I say!</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will understand me when I tell you that I should not be
+with you here to-day but for the devoted care of two old Christian
+people who dated their joy in the spiritual life from precisely such a
+ceremony as this. They are in Heaven now.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear old Mammy often said that she 'went under the water groaning in
+sin, and came up shouting, a saved soul!' I seem to hear her again as I
+repeat the words, on this same river, in sight of her people and within
+the sound of their voices. I was small when she died, and I do not
+clearly remember many of her words; but this I do well recall, for we
+lived for some years on the river-bank, only a few miles from the spot
+where in her youth she had been immersed. She taught me to love the
+river, and perhaps I am a little sentimental over it. I hope always to
+be so. My father remembers many of her words. She was his nurse, too.
+She told him as a boy that she had insisted on being baptized in flowing
+water, so that her sins might be carried away to the sea. It was all
+very sacred to her."</p>
+
+<p>Of course the romantic story of Agnes's youth was known to every one
+present, and this unexpected allusion awakened immediate interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," she replied to a question; "I suppose I do remember a good
+deal, considering how very young I was, and yet I often wonder that I do
+not remember more, as it was all so unusual;" and then she added,
+laughing: "I seem to forget that no event could surprise a child <i>in her
+first experiences of life</i>. Yet I remember trivial things, as, for
+instance, the losing of a hat. I clearly recall our watching my hat on
+one occasion when it blew into the river, <i>and was never recovered</i>!
+Think of the tragedy of it! I can see it now, tossing like a little
+boat, as it floated away.</p>
+
+<p>"And the funny little cabin I remember&mdash;I know I do, for there were
+things which papa never saw, on the inside, in what he calls my
+'boudoir,' the white cabin, which I shall never forget. When anything is
+kept ever in mind by constant description, it is hard to know how much
+one really remembers. You know, papa spent only one night there and his
+thoughts were turned backward, so that he naturally kept only vague
+impressions of the place.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he has made a sketch of it from memory, and I am sorry. Why? Oh,
+because I was sure at first that it was not correct, and now it has come
+to stand to me in place of the true picture, which has faded. It is a
+way with pictures if we let them over-ride us. Why, my grandmother in
+Boston has a friend who had his wife's portrait painted after she was
+lost at sea. He spent all the money he had to have it done by a 'best
+artist who had made a hasty sketch of her in life,' and when it came
+home he did not recognize it&mdash;really thought a mistake had been made.
+Then, seeing that it <i>was she</i> as authoritatively pictured, and that he
+had paid his all to get it, he bethought him to study it, hoping some
+day to find her in it. And so he did, gradually.</p>
+
+<p>"He had it hung over his smoking-table, and every evening he scrutinized
+it until its insistence conquered. For a whole year he lived in the
+companionship of an absent wife as seen in an artist's mood (this last
+sentence is a direct quotation from my Boston grandmama, who is fond of
+the story). And&mdash;well, 'what happened?' Why, <i>this</i>: One day the woman
+came home. People 'lost at sea' occasionally do, you know. And would you
+believe it? Her widower&mdash;I mean to say her husband&mdash;refused to receive
+her. <i>He did not know her!</i> He simply pointed to the painting and shook
+his head. And if she hadn't been a person of resolution and
+resource,&mdash;descended from the <i>Mayflower</i>,&mdash;why, she would have had to
+go away. But she had her trunk brought in and quietly paid the
+expressman and took off her bonnet&mdash;<i>and stayed</i>. But it was an absurdly
+long time before her husband was wholly convinced that he was not the
+victim of an adventuress. And she says that even now he sometimes looks
+at her in a way she does not like.</p>
+
+<p>"So, you see, we cannot always believe our own eyes, which are so easily
+tricked.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, even knowing all this, we consent to be duped. Now I like the
+picture of the cabin, even while I regret it, and, <i>although I know
+better</i>, I accept it.</p>
+
+<p>"What is truth, anyway? That is what you hear said so often in Boston,
+where we are said to try to make pivots of it for the wheels of all our
+little hobbies.</p>
+
+<p>"'Do I like Boston?' <i>Like Boston? No. I adore it!</i> Oh, yes! But yet,
+when I am there, I am a little rebel. And at each place I am quite
+honest, I assure you. You see, I have a grandmother at both places&mdash;here
+and there. Such dears, they are&mdash;adorable, both, and <i>so different</i>!</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is true. Papa's portrait, the one Mammy had in the
+cabin,&mdash;yes, we have it,&mdash;twice recovered from the river. My father
+offered a reward, and a man brought it out of the mud, a little way down
+the levee, and not seriously hurt. It is a funny little picture of papa
+at six, in a Highland costume, with his arm over a strange dog which
+belonged to the artist. He looks in the picture as if he were
+stuffed&mdash;the dog does; but papa denies that. I believe this same dog
+appeared in most of the portraits done by this man, in all of those of
+boys, at least. For the girls he supplied a cat, or occasionally a
+parrot. The bird <i>was</i> stuffed, I believe. He did my stepmother at
+five, and she holds the cat. The portraits hang side by side now. If we
+could find him, and the parrot, he should paint me, and we would start a
+menagerie.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; going back to the subject, there are many little things which
+I remember, without a doubt, for I could never imagine them. For
+instance, I remember at least one of my baptisms&mdash;the last, I suppose. I
+know I was frightened because the minister shouted, and Mammy kept
+whispering to me that he wouldn't harm me; and then he suddenly threw
+water all over me and I bawled. No, I have no idea who he was; but it
+was out of doors, and there was a rooster in it someway. I suppose it
+was on the levee and the rooster came to see what was happening.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a picture which always reminds me of the time we lived behind
+the woodpiles, that called 'The Soldier's Dream,' in which a poor
+fellow, asleep on the battle-field, sees dimly, as in the sky, a meeting
+between himself and his family.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure that while we sat on the levee and Mammy talked to me of
+papa's coming, I used to picture it all against the sunset sky. Just
+look at it now. Was anything ever more gorgeous and at the same time so
+tender? One could easily imagine almost any miracle's happening over
+there in the west.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know the skies of Italy, and they're no better. They are bluer
+and pinker, perhaps, in a more paintable way; but when the sun sets
+across the Mississippi, especially when we have their dreamy cloud
+effects, it goes down with variation and splendor unmatched anywhere, I
+do believe. But," she added with a Frenchy shrug, "you know I am only a
+river child, and everything belonging to the old muddy stream is dear to
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon&mdash;what did you ask?" This to a very young man who
+colored after he had spoken. "Did we ever recover&mdash;? Oh, no. Their
+bodies went with the waters they loved&mdash;and it was better so. Certainly,
+papa used every effort. I hope the current carried them to the sea. She
+would have liked to have it so, I am sure, dear, dear Mammy Hannah!</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. The little monument on Brake Island is only 'in memory,' as
+its inscription says."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>This was rather thoughtful talk for a girl scarcely eighteen, but Agnes
+had ever been thoughtful, and by common inheritance&mdash;from her mother and
+her father.</p>
+
+<p>As the scene shifted, and conversation passed to lighter things, and her
+laughter rippled again as a child's, its range was sometimes startling.
+It was as brilliant as a waterfall seen in the sun, and often while her
+fond father watched her, as now, he wondered if, perchance, her laughter
+might not be prophetic of a great career for which eyes less devoted
+than his perceived her eminently fitted.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>It is beyond the province of this tale of the river to follow Agnes Le
+Duc through life. Some day, possibly, her story may be fully told; but
+perhaps a foreshadowing of her future, in one phase of it at least, may
+be discerned in an intimation let fall by one of the passengers who sat
+with his companions at a card-table in the fore cabin. At least, they
+had spent the day there, stopping not even for dinner, and now they were
+moving away. As they found seats out on the guards, he was saying:</p>
+
+<p>"'<i>Rich!</i>' Well, I would say so! He own all doze plantation around de
+town of Waterproof, and de strange part is <i>he paid twice for some of
+dem</i>! Of co'se he could not do such a so-foolish t'ing except he made
+dat <i>in</i>vention. W'en you <i>be</i>gin to collec' so much on every one of
+anyt'ing dat fill a want, <i>you get rich, sure</i>!</p>
+
+<p>"No matter if it jus' <i>one picayune</i>&mdash;w'en dey sell enough. Dey say you
+can make sugar so quick by dat <i>mach</i>ine he <i>in</i>vent&mdash;it is like
+conjuring&mdash;a sort of hoodoo!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said his companion, an American, "so I understand; and there is
+no man I would rather see rich than Harold Le Duc. His marriage, so soon
+after the recovery of his child, surprised some of us, but no doubt it
+was a good thing."</p>
+
+<p>"A good t'ing! It was <i>magnificent</i>! If he is one of de finest men in
+Louisiana, she is equal to him. Dat remark dat he married only for a
+mudder for his child&mdash;dat's all in my heye! I am sure he was in love to
+her one year, maybe two, <i>be</i>fo' dat&mdash;<i>mais</i>, I am not sure he would
+have asked any woman to marry him. He had not de courage. For him love
+was past&mdash;and he was afraid of it. <i>Mais</i> de chil' she wake him up
+again! Oh, it is a good t'ing, <i>sure</i>! An' de strange part, she t'ought
+she wou'n' never love again, jus' de same as him&mdash;until&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Until what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <i>until he spoke</i>! Until w'at you t'ink?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not'ing. I t'ought <i>maybe</i> it was somet'ing unusual."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, an' is dat not somet'ing unusual&mdash;w'en a widow is <i>sure</i> she will
+not love again? Dey often <i>t'ink</i> so, <i>mais</i> she was <i>absolutely sure</i>!
+You see, her first husband he was one hero; he fell on de same
+battle-field wid gallant 'Jeb' Stuart&mdash;from a stray shot w'en de
+fighting was over, carrying dat poor <i>imbecile</i>, Philippe Delmaire, off
+de fiel', biccause he was yelling so, wid dat one li'l' toe he los'! A
+good fellow, yas, <i>mais no account</i>! Yas, he drank himself to deat', all
+on account for de loss of dat toe, so he say. Excuses dey are cheap,
+yas. If it was not his toe it would have been somet'ing else. You know,
+his figure, it was really perfection, no <i>mis</i>take, an' to lose
+perfection, even in so small a matter as one toe&mdash;it prey on his mind.
+Tell de trut', I used to feel sorry for him, an'&mdash;an'&mdash;w'en he always
+would touch his glass an' drink dat favorite toast, 'To my big toe!'
+well, dere was somet'ing pitiful in it. I used to drink it wid him. It
+was no harm, an' he had always good wine, poor fellow. <i>Mais to t'ink of
+Paul de La Rose dying for him!</i> It make me mad, yet w'en I t'ink so, I
+am almos' sorry to reflect I have drunk to his toe! Bah&mdash;a valu'ble
+man&mdash;to die like dat! Wat you say? Yas, da's true. It makes not <i>how</i> de
+soldier fall&mdash;de glory is de same. Well, any'ow, if he could have picked
+out a successor, he could not have done better dan yo'ng Le Duc&mdash;sure!
+W'at you say? '<i>'Ow</i> is he bought doze plantation twice?' Well, dis way:
+W'en he had to take dem on mortgage, an' dey were sold at de door of de
+court-house&mdash;bidding against him, understand&mdash;no rainy-day sale&mdash;he paid
+<i>double</i>&mdash;I mean to say he paid so much as de mortagage <i>again</i>. Not in
+every case, <i>mais</i> in many&mdash;to widows. I know two cousin of mine, he
+paid dem so. I ricollec' dey tol' me dat he was de mos' remembering man
+to look out for dem, an' de mos' forgetting to sen' de bills.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yas. An' his daughter, dey say she is in love to her
+stepmother&mdash;an' she is jus' so foolish about de chil'&mdash;an' wid good
+reason. She had never children&mdash;an' she is proud for dat daughter, an'
+jealous, too, of dose Yankee <i>ril</i>lation. Still, she <i>in</i>vite dem to
+come every year, so the chil' can stay&mdash;an' now, would you believe it?
+Dey are come to be great friends, <i>mais</i>, of co'se, her father sends her
+every year at Boston to her grandmother. Dey all want her, an' no
+wonder. If she was one mud fence, I suppose it would be all de same,
+<i>mais</i> you know, she is <i>one great beauty</i>! I say one gr-r-r-reat
+beauty! Wh! An'w'en I whistle so 'wh!' I mean w'at I say. You see me so,
+I am one ol' man, now&mdash;pas' forty&mdash;an' rich in children, an' not
+bad-looking children, neither; <i>mais</i> I would walk, me, all de way from
+de barracks up to Bouligny, <i>an' back</i>, just to see her pass in de
+street an' smile on me. You take my word, <i>if</i> she is not snapped up by
+some school-boy, she can marry <i>anyt'ing</i>&mdash;<i>a coronet</i>! An' I know
+somet'ing about women&mdash;not to brag."</p>
+
+<p>"If you are so anxious to see dat young lady, Felix," said another, "you
+don't need to walk so far. She is, at dis moment, wid her father an' her
+stepmudder, on dis trip."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>W'at</i>! w'at you say? Well, wait. I di'n' inten', me, to dress
+for de ladies' cabin to-night, <i>mais</i> w'en I have my supper I will
+put on my Sunday t'ings&mdash;jus' to go an' sit down in de cabin
+w'ere&mdash;I&mdash;can&mdash;look&mdash;at <i>innocent</i>&mdash;<i>beauty</i>! It pleasure me, yas, to
+see some t'ing like dat. May<i>be</i> I am not all good, <i>mais</i> I am not all
+given over for bad so long I can enjoy a rose-vine all in pink, or a
+fair yo'ng girl more beautiful yet.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you, my friends, I was sitting, week before las', at my 'ouse on
+Esplanade Street, on de back gallerie, w'ere de vines is t'ick, an' dey
+were, as you might say, honey-suckling de bees&mdash;an' de perfume from my
+night-bloomin' jasmine filled my nose. It was in de evening, an' de moon
+on de blue sky was like a map of de city, jus' a silver crescent, an'
+close by, one li'l' star, shining, as de children say, 'like a diamond
+in de sky,' an' I tell you&mdash;I tell you&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I tell you, <i>I wished I had been a good man all my life</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>His friends laughed gaily at this.</p>
+
+<p>"You don' say!" laughed one. "Well, you fooled us, any'ow! I was holding
+my breat'. I t'ought somet'ing was getting ready to happen!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;an' ain't dat somet'ing?&mdash;w'en a hard ol' sinner like me can see
+in nature a t'ing sweet an' good an'&mdash;<i>an' resolute himself</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, dat is a great happening; <i>mais</i> for such a <i>be</i>ginning, so
+dramatic, we expected to see Hamlet&mdash;or maybe his father's ghost&mdash;or
+<i>somet'ing</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am thinking more of this exceptional beauty"&mdash;it was the American who
+interrupted now&mdash;"I am more interested in her than in the confessions of
+old sinners like ourselves. I am rather practical, and beauty is only
+skin-deep&mdash;sometimes at least. I should like to take a peep at this rare
+product of our State. Louisiana's record up to date is hard to beat, in
+this respect."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," slowly remarked the man known throughout as Felix, "I am not
+telling! If I <i>knew</i>, I could not <i>tell</i>, and, of co'se, it is all
+guess-work, <i>mais</i> you may believe me or not&mdash;" he lowered his voice,
+suggesting mystery. "I say you can <i>rif</i>fuse to believe me or not, I
+was&mdash;well, I was not long ago, one day, sitting at de table down at
+Leon's,&mdash;eating an oyster wid a friend of mine, and, looking out of de
+window, I happened to see, sitting in a tree, <i>one li'l' bird</i>&mdash;jus' one
+small li'l' bird, no bigger dan yo' t'umb.</p>
+
+<p>"I was not t'inking about de bird, mind you. We were jus' talking about
+anyt'ing in partic'lar&mdash;I mean to say not'ing in general. <i>W'at</i> is de
+matter wid me to-day? I cannot talk straight&mdash;my tongue is all twis'. I
+say we were speaking of partic'lar t'ings in general, an' he remarked to
+me, '<i>Who you t'ink will be de Queen of de Carnival dis coming Mardi
+Gras?</i>'</p>
+
+<p>"I was pouring a glass of Château Yquem at de time,&mdash;to look after de
+oysters,&mdash;an' I di'n' pay so much attention to w'at he was saying&mdash;I can
+never pour a glass an' speak at de same time. I spill my words or de
+wine, sure. So it happened dat w'en I put me de bottle down, my eye
+passed out de window. Oh, hush! No, not my eye, of co'se&mdash;I mean my
+sight. Well, dat li'l' bird it was still waiting in the same place, in
+de magnolia-tree, an' w'en I looked, it give me one glance, sideways,
+like a finger on de nose, an' it opened wide its bill, an' just so plain
+as I am speaking now, <i>it spoke a name</i>." This in still lower voice.</p>
+
+<p>"But I said nothing, immediately. A little wine, for a few glasses, it
+make me prudent&mdash;<i>up to a certain point</i>, of co'se. <i>Mais</i>, direc'ly, I
+looked at my friend, an' wid w'at you might call an air of
+<i>nonchalance</i>, I repeat to him de name <i>ex</i>ac'ly as it was tol' to me by
+de li'l' bird in de magnolia-tree. An' wa't you t'ink he said?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, go on. W'at he say?"</p>
+
+<p>"You want to know w'at he said? Well, dat I can tell you. He was greatly
+astonish', an' he whispered to me, '<i>Who tol' you? You are not in de
+Pickwick?</i>'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a little bird tol' me!" I answered him. "<i>No, I am not in de
+club.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>But the name? Do tell us!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. I cannot. If I <i>told</i>, dat would be <i>telling</i>, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure! It is not necessary," said another. "Well, I am pleased, me."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>An'</i> me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I like always to listen w'en you tell somet'ing, Felix. Your story is
+all right&mdash;an' <i>I believe you</i>. I always believe any man in de Pickwick
+Club&mdash;<i>on some subjects</i>! <i>Mais</i>, ol' man, de nex' time you make a story
+at Leon's restaurant, suppose you move off dat magnolia-tree. A bird
+could stand on de window-sill across de street jus' as well&mdash;a real
+window-sill."</p>
+
+<p>"T'ank you. I am sure a <i>real</i> somet'ing-to-stand-on would be better for
+<i>a real bird</i>. <i>Mais</i>, for dis particular bird, I t'ink my magnolia is
+more suitable. Don't forget de story of de Mongoose!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody can get ahead of you, Felix. Well, it is a good t'ing. It is
+true, her fodder was de King at las' year's Carnival&mdash;an' it is
+lightning striking twice in de same place; an' yet&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," the American interrupted, "and yet it will sometimes strike
+twice in the same place&mdash;if the attraction is sufficient. I have a
+friend who has a summer home in the Tennessee mountains which was twice
+struck&mdash;three times, nearly. That is the house next door got it the
+third time. And then they began to investigate, and they found the
+mountain full of iron&mdash;iron convertible into gold."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, and our man of iron, let us hope he may prove always an
+attraction&mdash;for bolts of good fortune!"</p>
+
+<p>"A wish that may come true; if reports be correct, he is rapidly turning
+into gold," said the American. "I am told that he has found salt in
+immense deposits on his island&mdash;and that he has resumed the work begun
+just before the war&mdash;that of opening up the place."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yas. 'Tis true. Over a hundred t'ousand dollars he has already put
+in&mdash;an' as much more ready to drop. <i>Mais</i> it is <i>fairyland</i>! An' me,
+<i>I</i> was t'inking too&mdash;sometimes I t'ink a little myself&mdash;I was t'inking
+dat if&mdash;I say <i>if</i> sometime his daughter would be de Comus Queen, not
+insinuating anything, you know&mdash;no allusion to de bird&mdash;w'at a fine
+house-party dey could have <i>now</i>, eh? Dey could invite de royal party,
+maids of honor, and so fort'&mdash;whoever is rich enough to lose so much
+time&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"T'ink of sailing up de new canal on de barge&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"An' under de bridge&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not de bridge. He will never touch dat. He has made a new plan,
+entering another way. Dat span of de bridge he commenced&mdash;it is standing
+beside de beautiful w'ite marble tomb&mdash;to hold his family. His wife she
+is dere, an' de ol' negroes w'at care for his chil'&mdash;dey are laying in
+one corner, wid also a small monument."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you <i>sure</i> dey are dere?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen de monument, I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Harold he was always sentimental, if you will. I suppose dat
+broken bridge is, as he says&mdash;it is history, and he needs to keep it
+before him, not to be too rash. Maybe so. Who can tell? Two boys in de
+war, it was enough&mdash;if he had stopped to t'ink."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas&mdash;<i>mais</i> de barge, de Cleopatra; dey say she is be'-u-tiful!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cleopatra! For w'at he di'n' name her somet'ing sensible?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dat is not only sensible&mdash;it is diplomatic. You know, w'en a man has
+only a daughter and a step-wife&mdash;<i>w'at</i> is de matter wid me to-night?
+You understand me. I say, in&mdash;well, in some cases, to <i>dis</i>criminate,
+it is enough to drive a man to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't say dat, Felix."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me <i>finish</i>, will you? I say it is one of dose <i>in</i>delicate
+situations dat drive a man to <i>dodge</i>! An' w'en he can dodge into
+history and romance at once, so much de better! An' <i>Cleopatra</i>, it
+sound well for a barge. An' so, really, <i>if</i> de beautiful daughter
+<i>should</i> be de queen an' dey could arrange one house-party&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose, Felix, ol' man, you would bring out yo' magnolia-tree once
+more, you don't t'ink de li'l' bird would come again an' stan' on one
+limb an' may<i>be</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, no. I am sure not. If dey had a grain of salt in dat story, I would
+try. I would put it on his tail. <i>Mais</i>, how can you catch a bird widout
+salt?"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>So idly, playfully, the talk rippled on, ever insensibly flavored with
+rich romance of life, even as the fitful breeze skirting the shores
+held, in shy suspension, an occasional hint of orange-blossoms or of
+the Cuban fruits which, heaping the luggers in the slanting sun, laid
+their gay bouquets of color against the river's breast.</p>
+
+<p>It is many years since the maid Agnes Le Duc, on her way to coronation
+at the carnival, stood while the sun went down in all her vestal beauty
+on deck of the <i>Laurel Hill</i>, and smiled through tears of tenderness at
+life as half revealed to her.</p>
+
+<p>Many things are changed since then, and yet the great river flows on,
+all unheeding.</p>
+
+<p>Laden to their guards, so that their weighty cargoes of cotton and
+sugar, traveling to mill and to market, are wet with the spray of
+playful condescension, panting ships of commerce, some flying foreign
+colors, still salute each other in passing, with ever a word of
+solicitude as to milady's health.</p>
+
+<p>Old Lady Mississippi, is she high or low in spirits? And will her hand
+of benediction turn to smite and to despoil?</p>
+
+<p>But, whether she be obdurate or kindly, hysterical or melancholy, or so
+serene as to invite the heavens, life and love and song are hers.</p>
+
+<p>Uniting while she seems to divide, bringing together whom she appears to
+separate, a raft of logs contributed by her grace affording free passage
+the length of her realm to whoever will take it, paying no toll, she
+invites Romance to set sail under the stars in primal simplicity,
+eschewing the "bridal chambers" of white and gold which lie in the
+hearts of all the busy steamers, no matter how otherwise prosaic their
+personalities.</p>
+
+<p>And still, afloat and alongshore, astride a molasses-barrel or throwing
+dice between the cotton-bales, taking no thought of the morrow, the
+negro sings:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Cometh our fount of every blessing!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+***** This file should be named 34416-h.htm or 34416-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/4/1/34416/
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/34416-h/images/cover.jpg b/34416-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad02d6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/34416-h/images/illus1.jpg b/34416-h/images/illus1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..624bda5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/illus1.jpg
diff --git a/34416-h/images/illus2.jpg b/34416-h/images/illus2.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b164c37
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/illus2.jpg
diff --git a/34416-h/images/illus3.jpg b/34416-h/images/illus3.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..306bb92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/illus3.jpg
diff --git a/34416-h/images/illus4.jpg b/34416-h/images/illus4.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4e4cd8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/illus4.jpg
diff --git a/34416-h/images/illus5.jpg b/34416-h/images/illus5.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4098878
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416-h/images/illus5.jpg
diff --git a/34416.txt b/34416.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66abd2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3540 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The River's Children
+       An Idyl of the Mississippi
+
+Author: Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+Illustrator: Barry C. Edwards
+
+Release Date: November 23, 2010 [EBook #34416]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          THE RIVER'S CHILDREN
+
+                       AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI
+
+                         By RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+AUTHOR OF "SONNY," "HOLLY AND PIZEN," "MORIAH'S MOURNING," "NAPOLEON
+JACKSON," ETC.
+
+
+    With Pictures by
+    Barry C. Edwards
+
+    NEW YORK
+    THE CENTURY CO.
+    1904
+
+    Copyright, 1904, by
+    THE CENTURY CO.
+
+    Copyright, 1903, by
+    PHELPS PUBLISHING CO.
+
+    _Published October, 1904_
+
+    THE DE VINNE PRESS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Upon the brow of the levee"]
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Upon the brow of the levee
+
+Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with pickax and spade
+
+Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree
+
+The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, dashed to the
+front
+
+Her arms were about his knees
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVER'S CHILDREN
+
+AN IDYL OF THE MISSISSIPPI
+
+
+
+
+PART FIRST
+
+
+The Mississippi was flaunting itself in the face of opposition along its
+southern banks. It had carried much before it in its downward path ere
+it reached New Orleans. A plantation here, a low-lying settlement there,
+a cotton-field in bloom under its brim, had challenged its waters and
+been taken in, and there was desolation in its wake.
+
+In certain weak places above and below the city, gangs of men--negroes
+mostly--worked day and night, reinforcing suspicious danger-points with
+pickax and spade. At one place an imminent crevasse threatened life and
+property to such a degree that the workers were conscripted and held to
+their posts by promises of high wages, abetted by periodical passage
+along the line of a bucket and gourd dipper.
+
+[Illustration: "Gangs of men, reinforcing suspicious danger points with
+pickax and spade"]
+
+There was apparently nothing worse than mirth and song in the bucket.
+Concocted to appeal to the festive instinct of the dark laborers as much
+as to steady their hands and sustain courage, it was colored a fine pink
+and floated ice lumps and bits of lemon when served. Yet there was a
+quality in it which warmed as it went, and spurred pickax and spade to
+do their best--spurred their wielders often to jest and song, too, for
+there was scarcely a secure place even along the brimming bank where one
+might not, by listening, catch the sound of laughter or of rhythmic
+voices:
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' hymn!
+    De river, she's a-boomin'--she's a-comin _che-bim_!
+        Swim, nigger, swim!
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!
+    De waters is a-floodin'--dey's a-roarin' on time!
+        Climb, squirrel, climb!"
+
+At this particular danger-spot just below the city, a number of
+cotton-bales, contributed by planters whose fortunes were at stake, were
+placed in line against a threatening break as primary support, staked
+securely down and chained together.
+
+Over these were cast everything available, to raise their height. It was
+said that even barrels of sugar and molasses were used, and shiploads of
+pig-iron, with sections of street railways ripped from their ties. Then
+barrels of boiling tar, tarpaulins, and more chains. And then--
+
+And then there were prayers--and messages to the priests up at the old
+St. Louis Cathedral, where many of the wives were kneeling--and reckless
+gifts of money to the poor.
+
+A few of the men who had not entered church for years were seen to cross
+themselves covertly; and one, a convivial creole of a rather racy
+reputation, was even observed, through the sudden turn of a lantern one
+night, to take from his pocket a miniature statue of St. Joseph, and to
+hold it between his eyes and the sky while he, too, crossed himself. And
+the boon companion who smiled at the sight did himself make upon his own
+breast a tiny sign of the cross in the dark, even as he moved toward his
+friend to chaff him. And when, in turning, he dimly descried the outline
+of a distant spire surmounted by a cross against the stars, he did
+reverently lift his hat.
+
+"It can't do any harm, anyhow," he apologized to himself; but when he
+had reached his friend, he remarked dryly:
+
+"You don't mean to tell me, Felix, dat you pray to St. Joseph yet, you
+old sinner! Excuse me, but dose passing lantern, dey give you away."
+
+"Pray to St. Joseph? I would pray to de devil to-night, me, Adolphe, if
+I believed he would drive de river down."
+
+"Sh! Don't make comparison between St. Joseph an' de devil, Felix. Not
+to-night, anyhow."
+
+"I di'n' done dat, Adolphe. No! _Pas du tout_. Not at all. H'only, I
+say, me, I _would_ pray to de devil _if_ he could help us out."
+
+He laughed and shrugged his shoulders as he added recklessly:
+
+"Yas, I would be one mud-catfish caught on his forked tail--just for
+to-night--an' let him drag me behind him in de river, if--"
+
+"But you mus' ricollec', de devil he don't play wid water, Felix. Fire
+is his--fire an' brimstone--"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Bah, Adolphe! Who is trying to talk sense to-night? Dose row of
+warehouse yonder, dey are _all full_, an' on my one pair shoulder. _My_
+li'l' crop is not'ing. I got in doze warehouse, waiting for a _sure_
+rise in de market--all on my ob_stin_ate judgment--everyt'ing of _my
+brudder_, _my t'ree cousin_, _my wife_, _my mud'-in-law_,--just
+t'ink!--not to speak about t'irty-five or forty small consignment. Sure!
+I would pray to _anyt'ing_ to-night--to save dem. I would pray to one
+_crawfish_ not to work dis way. Dem crawfish hole is de devil.
+
+"But dat St. Joseph in my pocket! My mudder, I am sure she put it dere.
+She an' my sisters, dey will all kneel many hours at deir _prie-dieux_
+to-night--po' t'ings!"
+
+"An' yo' wife--she also, of co'se--"
+
+"My wife?" The man chuckled. "Pff! Ah, no! She is at de opera. She knows
+I am watching de river. She believe it cannot run over so long I watch
+it. I married her yo'ng. Dat's de bes' way.
+
+"_Mais_, tell de trut', Adolphe, I am going to church, me, after dis.
+Dere's not'ing, after all, like God to stand in wid you! You hear me, I
+tell you to-night de rizzen our women keep good an' happy--_it is
+faith_. You know da's true."
+
+"Yas, I believe you, Felix. An' me, I t'ink I will go, too. _Any_'ow,
+I'll show up at Easter communion. An' dat's a soon promise, too. T'ree
+week las' Sunday it will be here.
+
+"All my yard is w'ite wid dem Easter lilies already. Dis soon spring
+compel dem. Wen you smell doze Bermudas above de roses in your garden
+in de middle of Lent, look out for Old Lady Mississippi. She is getting
+ready to spread her flounces over yo' fields--"
+
+"Yas, an' to dance on yo' family graves. You may say w'at you like,
+Adolphe--de ruling lady of dis low valley country, it is not de Carnival
+Queen; it is not de first lady at de Governor's Mansion. It is--let us
+raise our hats--it is Old Lady Mississippi! _She is_ de ruling lady of
+de Gulf country--old _mais_ forever yo'ng.
+
+"In my _ril_igion I have no superstition. I swallow it whole--even w'en
+I mus' shut my nose--I mean hol' my eyes. W'at is de matter wid me? I
+cannot talk straight to-night. _Mais_ to speak of de river, I mus'
+confess to you dat even w'en it is midsummer an' she masquerade like
+common dirty waters, I _pro_pitiate her.
+
+"Once, I can tell you, I was rowing one skiff across by de red church,
+an' suddenly--for w'y I di' n' see immediately--_mais_ out of de still
+water, mixed into bubbles only by my oars, over my hand came one _big
+wave_. I looked quick, but I could see only de sun to blind my eyes.
+_Mais_ you know w'at I did?
+
+"Dat bright sun, it _re_flect a small stone in my ring, one diamond, an'
+quick I slip it off an' drop it. It was de river's _pet_ition, an' w'at
+is a sixty-five-dollar diamond to a man w'en--"
+
+"Dey ain' got no _in_sanity in yo' family, I don't t'ink, Felix?
+Otherwise--excuse me--I would be oneasy for you."
+
+Adolphe was smiling, and he mischievously lifted one brow and drew up
+his lips as if to whistle.
+
+Felix smiled, too, as he replied:
+
+"You needn't fear for me, Adolphe. _Mais_ strong-headed ancestors, dey
+are not'ing. Me, I could _start_ a crazy line just as well as my
+great-gran'fodder. Everyt'ing mus' _begin somewhere_."
+
+But he added more seriously:
+
+"_Non_, I would do it again--_if_ I was on _such a trip_. I tell you
+w'at time it was; it was--"
+
+He dropped his voice and looked over his shoulder.
+
+"You want to know w'at, precisely, I was doing at de moment de river
+demand my ring? _I was praying to her! Sure!_" (This last in a whisper.)
+
+"Oh-h-h!" Adolphe's face lit. "Yas, I understand. I ricollec'. You mean
+about five year pas'--dat time yo' sister los' 'er firs' 'usband,
+w'en--?"
+
+"Yas, _ex_ac'ly. So you see dat _pred_icament in w'ich I was placed wid
+de river. I never liked po' Jacques Renault--" He shrugged his
+shoulders. "I never _prof_ess to like him, _mais_ he was my
+brud'-in-law; an' my po' sister--you know Felicite--she is my _twin_.
+She done not'ing but cry, cry, cry for fo' days an' nights, an' pay all
+'er money in de poor-box _to find him_. An' dey tried every way to bring
+him up. So me, I say not'ing, _mais_ w'en de fif day is come I loan from
+my cousin Achilles his wide skiff, an' I start out, an' I row two mile
+below w'ere dey foun' 'is clo'es an' hat, an' den I pull up again--an'
+wid every stroke I pray to de river to grant me dat satisfaction to find
+po' Jacques an' to lay him in his grave.
+
+"Tell you de trut', maybe I am a sinner to say it, _mais_ I was half
+afraid in my heart dat may_be_ Jacques was playing 'possum an' some day
+he would come back; an' w'en somebody is dead--dat's one terrible dread,
+_yas_--to get such a surprise, _es_pecially for one widow, you
+understand. It is a _re_striction, more or less, according to--Well,
+never mind.
+
+"You may b'lief me or not, _mais_ w'en de river she _re_quire of me dat
+ring, laying her wet hand over my hand like to take it, at de same time
+she turn it to de sun--well, I am not stupid. I dropped it _quick_ to
+her, an' den I looked _close_, yas, on de water, an' _im_mediately I see
+one--"
+
+"You said jus' now you saw only de glare of de sun--"
+
+"_Ex_ac'ly--an' den, naturally, one black spot befo' my eye, an' I t'ink
+it is de sun; _mais_--
+
+"Well, 't is a _dis_agreeable picture. Never mind! De river she _give
+me de swap_, an' we had one fine funeral de nex' day; an' my po' sister
+Felicite had her consolation.
+
+"So, like I say, w'at consideration was one small diamond ring for such
+a pleasure?
+
+"A widow widout a grave is like a wind in Feb'uary--crying always
+forever aroun' de house, wid nowhere to go, an' in her eyes are all
+kinds of weather. Bff!
+
+"It is great consolation, a grave. It is a half-way station between de
+home an' de church; an' a widow she need dat--for a w'ile.
+
+"Tell you de trut', w'en I take time to t'ink, Adolphe, sometimes I am
+ashame'. So long I am prosperous I am all for dis worl'; den, w'en
+somet'ing come, like now, an' t'row me on my knees, I feel cheap befo'
+God, yas. _Mais_, wid de river _so_, w'at can a man _do_ if he cannot
+_pray_? So, after to-night's _ex_perience, I am at home wid my li'l'
+family by eleven o'clock every night, _sure_."
+
+"'Ow much chillen you got now, Felix? You go too fas' for my
+'rit'metic."
+
+"Oh, no, not too fas'--just fas' enough. Only nine in over ten
+year--mos' eleven year. Only _six_, by _right_. I _engage_ for six;
+_mais_ w'at can a man do w'en his lady present him wid one _extra_, once
+in a w'ile! I am de las' one to make remark on her for dat, too,
+biccause I come dat way myself--following behind Felicite. Twins, dey
+run in some families; an' you know now I am coming to like dem. Dey are
+so sociable, twins."
+
+"Ah, my friend, you have plenty occasion to be one good man."
+
+"_Occasion!_ I am blessed. T'ink all I have got to be t'ankful! I got my
+mudder, my mud'-in-law, my fad'-in-law--all _ril_igious people an'
+good--an' _nine li'tl' one_, like six stair-steps wid t'ree landings for
+de _ac_commodation of de twins." He chuckled. "Yas, an' I am going to be
+good. No more dem soubrette supper for me. An' dem _danse de_--
+
+"_Mais wait! W'at is dat?_"
+
+A bell had rung, and a voice was calling out the depth of the water as
+shown upon a graduated scale marked low down against the pier. The
+announcement was half-hourly now.
+
+"W'at he say? T'irteen inches an' a--Dat's a half-inch fall. T'ank God!
+Maybe St. Joseph an' our women dey save us yet, Adolphe."
+
+"Yas, may_be_. _Mais_ I t'ink de winter is full broke in Minnesota, too.
+No more dat confoun' ice to melt. I looked _sure_ for de water to fall
+down yesterday. Any'ow, one half-inch is hope. Here, take one cigar. I
+can smoke, me, on dat half-inch. You got any matches, Felix?"
+
+In finding his match-box Felix's fingers came in contact with the tiny
+statue of St. Joseph in his pocket, but he was only half sensible of the
+fact in his nervous joy over the slight decline in the river.
+
+"Hello! Here is Harold Le Duc!" he exclaimed, as, by the light of his
+match, he chanced to catch the presentment of a distant face in the
+darkness.
+
+"Hello! Come along, Harry, an' smoke one cigar. We mus' celebrate dat
+insinuation dat de river is falling. Less dan one inch, it does not
+count, except to prove she is hesitating; an' you know de ol' saying,
+'She who hesitate'--'Hello, young man! You are good for sore eyes!"
+
+The person addressed had come forward with extended hand.
+
+When another match, lighting Adolphe's cigar, revealed the young man's
+face again, there was something so startling in its wonderful solemnity
+and beauty that both men were impressed.
+
+"You won't smoke? An'w'y? Come! It is one great comfort, a li'l' smoke.
+Here, let me--"
+
+He presented the cigars again.
+
+"Well, I thank you, but excuse me now." Young Le Duc took a cigar with a
+smile. "I'll enjoy it later, maybe; but not until we see a little
+further. As you say, a half-inch is only a hint, but it is a good one.
+I am going now up the coast, where trouble waits, and I may need a
+steady hand before morning. But I think the worst is over. Good
+night--and thank you. The folks--they are all well?"
+
+"Fine, all fine, and asking always for w'y you don't come to see dem."
+
+But he had gone.
+
+The eyes of both men followed the retreating figure in silence.
+
+It was Adolphe who spoke at last.
+
+"Ah-h-h!" he sighed. "An' yet we complain sometimes, you an' me, eh? I
+am t'irty-seven years old an' I got t'irteen healt'y chillen an' two
+gran'chillen, an' my wife--look at her, yo'nger an' happier wid every
+one--
+
+"Oh, I wonder, me, sometimes, dat God don't just snatch everyt'ing away
+jus' for spite, w'en we always complain so.
+
+"Did you take occasion to notice dat w'ite hair against dat yo'ng face?
+An' dey say he never mention his trouble."
+
+"I tell you, like we said, Adolphe, dat river she is--she is--"
+
+He threw up his right palm, as if in despair of adequate language.
+
+"_T'ink_ of coming home from de war, already robbed, to find _all_
+gone--home, wife, child, family, servants, _all_ obliterate', an' only
+de river's mark, green mold an' mildew, on de walls above de mantel in
+de house; an' outside her still face under de sky to answer, an' she
+heed no questions. She is called de father of waters? In a sense, yas,
+may_be_. _Mais_, no. She is, I tell you, de mother of trouble--_an'_
+pleasure, too.
+
+"She is, after all, de queen of dis valley, an' no mistake--dat river.
+When she need fresh ermine for her robe, she throw it over our cotton
+fields--"
+
+"Yas, an' de black spots, dey are our sorrows. Dat's not a bad
+resemblance, no."
+
+The speaker looked at his watch.
+
+"Pas' eleven," he said. "Da' 's good luck w'en she start to fall befo'
+midnight. Oh-h-h! _Mais_ she is one great coquette, yas. She keep you
+crazy until she get tired wid you, an' den she slip away an' steal her
+beauty-sleep befo' de clock strike twelve."
+
+"You t'ink she is going to sleep now? May_be_ she fool us yet, Adolphe."
+
+"Well, may_be_. _Mais_ I have great hope. She _beg_in to nod, and w'en
+dat happen to a woman or a riv--"
+
+Conversation was suddenly interrupted here by a great crash. The two men
+started, and, turning, saw an entire section of the improvised
+embankment fall landward.
+
+Had the stress of the moment been less, they would involuntarily have
+hastened to the spot, but terror fixed them where they stood. There was
+but a moment of suspense,--of almost despair,--but it seemed an
+eternity, before relief came in a great shout which sent vibrations of
+joy far along the bank, even to those who watched and worked on the
+right bank of the stream.
+
+It had been only a "dry break." The weights thrown in upon the cotton
+had been out of plumb, and had pitched the whole structure inward.
+
+The uproar following this accident was long and loud, and had not
+subsided when the bell rang again, and, with tense nerves strained to
+listen, the line of men dropped speech. Instead of calling out the
+decreasing depth, as usual, the crier this time shouted:
+
+"_Two inches down, thank God!_"
+
+Screams of joy, not unmixed with tears, greeted this announcement. The
+strain was virtually over.
+
+The two rich men who had stood and talked together mopped their
+foreheads and shook hands in silence.
+
+Finally it was the older, whom we have called Adolphe,--which was not
+his name any more than was his companion's Felix,--finally, then,
+Adolphe remarked quite calmly, as he looked at his watch:
+
+"I am glad dat cotton in de pile is saved, yas. 'T is not de first time
+de ol' city has fought a battle wid cotton-bales to help, eh, Felix? All
+doze foundation bales dey belong to Harold Le Duc. He _con_tribute dem,
+an' make no condition. All dat trash on top de cotton, it catch de tar;
+so to-morrow we dig it out clean an' give it to him again--an'--an'--
+
+"Well--"
+
+He looked at his watch again, keeping his eyes upon it for a moment
+before he ventured, in a lower tone:
+
+"Well, I say, Felix, my boy, w'at _you_ say?"
+
+"I di'n' spoke. W'at you say yourself, Adolphe?"
+
+"'Well,'--dat's all I said; jus' 'well.' _Mais_ I di'n' finish. I
+_beg_in to say, I--Well, I was just t'inking. You know to-night it is de
+_las'_ opera--don't you forget. No danger to make a _habit_ on a _las'
+night_; ain't dat true? For w'y you don't say somet'ing?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Talk, ol' man! I am listening." Felix looked at his watch now.
+"An' may_be_ I am t'inking a li'l' bit, too. _Mais_ go on."
+
+"Well, I am t'inking of doze strange ladies. I am _sure_ dey
+had many vacant box to-night. Don't you t'ink dey need a little
+encouragement--not to leave New Orleans wid dat _im_pression of neglect?
+We don't want to place a stigma upon de gay ol' town. My carriage is
+here, an' it is yet time. One hour, an' we will forget all dis trouble.
+I need me some champagne myself."
+
+Felix chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Ah-h-h! Yi! An' me, too, Adolphe. I tol' you I was t'inking also.
+_Mais_ let us sen' de good news home, an' let doze women off deir knees
+an' go to bed. My mud'-in-law she is de devil for prayin', an' she is
+poody stout, po' t'ing!
+
+"We telegram it. Tell dem deir prayers are answered--de water is down--"
+
+"An' our spirits are up, eh? An' we will be home in de morning, _w'en de
+valuable debris is removed_."
+
+Felix laughed and touched his friend in the ribs.
+
+"You are one devil, Adolphe. _Mais_ we mus' be good to our women."
+
+"Sure! I am going to return dat compliment you paid me jus' now. You say
+I am one devil, eh? _Bien!_ An' in response, I say, Felix, you are one
+_saint_. You hear me! I say, one _saint_--_un_canonized! Any man dat
+will telegram a message to save his rich mud'-in-law from maybe sudden
+apoplexy, he is one saint, _sure_! _Mais_ you are right. We mus' be good
+to our women. A happy wife is a joy forever!"
+
+He laughed again as he added:
+
+"_Mais_ de debris! Yi, yi! Dat make me smile. You ricollec' de las'
+debris, w'en Ma'm'selle Koko--"
+
+"Ah, yes, Felix! Sure, I remember. I paid, me, I know, one good round
+sum for my share. Dat was one terrible smash-up. Two dozen
+champagne-glass; one crystal decanter; one chandelier, also crystal,
+every light on it broke, so we had to put off de gas; an'--well, de
+devil knows w'at else.
+
+"Tell de trut', I don't like dat dancing on de supper-table, Felix. 'T
+is super_flu_ous. De floor is good enough. An' you know, w'en a lady is
+dancing on a table, after a good supper, of co'se every glass is a
+temptation to her slipper. An' slippers an' wine-glasses--well, to say
+de least, de combination it is disastrous.
+
+"So, I say, de floor it is good enough for me. It seem more _comme il
+faut_.
+
+"_Mais_ come along. We will be late."
+
+
+
+
+PART SECOND
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing yo' rhyme!
+    De waters is a-floodin'--dey 's a-roarin' on time!
+        Climb, squirrel, climb!"
+
+For several miles, when the night was still or the wind favorable, one
+could follow the song, accented by simultaneous blows of implements of
+defense marking the measure.
+
+    "Sing, nigger, sing! Sing an' pray!
+    Ol' Death is on de water--he's a-ridin' dis way!
+        Pray, nigger, pray!"
+
+Some of the words might have been elusive had they been unfamiliar, but
+the annual agitation kept the songs of the river in mind; and even in
+safe sections, where many sat in peace beside the rising waters, they
+would take their pipes from their lips to catch up the danger-songs and
+sympathetically pass them along. Many a prayer went with them, too, from
+humble petitioners who knew whereof they prayed.
+
+Such were an old black couple who sat one night upon the brow of the
+outer levee at Carrollton, since become an upper district of
+far-reaching New Orleans.
+
+In strong contrast to the stirring scenes enacting below the city, all
+was peace and tranquillity here. A strong, new embankment, securely
+built several hundred feet inland, had some years before supplanted the
+outer levee, condemned as insecure, so that the white inhabitants of the
+suburb slept, intelligently safe behind a double barrier, for the
+condemned bank had stood the stress of so many seasons that much of the
+low land lying between the two levees was finally occupied by squatters,
+mostly negroes, this being free space, taking no rent of such as did not
+fear the ever-impending mortgage which the river held.
+
+Of this class, quite apart from others, might have been seen almost any
+evening the old couple, Hannah and Israel, sitting upon the brow of the
+levee near the door of their low cabin, while, always within call, there
+played about them a fair-haired little girl and a dog.
+
+When the beautiful child, followed by the dog, a fine Irish setter,
+would suddenly emerge in a chase from among the woodpiles about the
+cabin, there was a certain high-bred distinction in them both which set
+them apart from the rest of the picture.
+
+Sometimes they would "play too hearty," as Mammy expressed it, and she
+would call: "Dat 'll do now, Blossom! Come lay down, Blucher!" and,
+followed closely by the dog, the child would coddle at the knees of the
+woman, who "made the time pass" with stories. Sometimes these would be
+folk-tales brought over from Africa, or reminiscences of plantation
+life, but more often, feeling her religious responsibility to the
+little one, old Hannah would repeat such Bible stories as "befitted a
+child's mind," such as "Ab'um an' Isaac," "Eden's Gyarden," or "De
+Prodigum Son."
+
+Of them all, the Eden story was easily favorite, its salient mystery
+features affording fine scope for the narrator's power, while they held
+the imaginative child with the spell of all good wonder-tales. We get
+these stories so young and grow up with them so familiarly that when we
+finally come into a realization of them they hold no possible surprise
+and so their first charm is lost. Think of one story with such elements
+as a wonder-woman rising from a man's side while he slept--a talking
+serpent, persuasive in temptation as insidious in easy approaches--a
+flaming sword of wrath--a tree of knowledge--and the sounding voice of
+God as he walked through the garden "in the cool of the day"! Is not a
+single colloquialism of so venerable ancestry sufficient to dignify a
+language?
+
+Herself a classic in that she expressed the eternal quality of maternal
+love incarnate, the old woman thus unconsciously passed along to the
+object of her devotion the best classic lore of the ages. And sunrise
+and sunset, star- and moon-land, and their reflection in the great
+water-mirror, were hers and the child's, without the asking. Nor were
+they lost, although to both child and woman they were only common
+elements in life's great benediction.
+
+During the story-telling, which generally lasted until the sun sank
+across the river, but while its last rays still made "pictures of glory
+in the heavens" with the water's reflection,--pictures which served to
+illustrate many a narration, to inspire the speaker and impress a
+sensitive child,--the dog would stretch himself facing the two, and his
+intelligent and quizzical expression would sometimes make Mammy laugh in
+a serious place or change the drift of her story. Often, indeed, this
+had happened in the telling of certain animal tales which Mammy
+declared Blucher knew better than she and she even insisted that he
+occasionally winked at her and set her right when she went wrong.
+
+In the early dusk, the old man Israel would come trudging in from the
+water and sometimes he would light his pipe and join Mammy's audience.
+
+Occasionally Mammy would cook the supper in the open, upon a small
+charcoal furnace, and the "little Miss" would sup from a tiny low table
+brought from the cabin. Here she was served by the old people in turn,
+for they never ate until she had finished. Then the little girl was
+carefully undressed and sung to sleep with one of Mammy's velvet
+lullabies, in a dainty bed all her own, a berth which hung, shelf-like,
+against the wall; for the home of this incongruous family was quite as
+novel as the family itself.
+
+Part of the ladies' cabin of an old Mississippi steamboat, still
+shabbily fine in white paint and dingy gilding, which Israel had
+reclaimed from an abandoned wreck, formed a wing of the building. This,
+which, with its furnishings, Mammy called "Blossom's lay-out,"
+communicated by a door with a "lean-to" of weather-stained boards, whose
+mud chimney and homely front formed a strong contrast to the river
+entrance of white and gold. This grotesque architectural composite would
+have attracted attention at another time or place, but as one of a
+class, made to its need of any available material, it passed unnoticed
+beyond an occasional casual smile of amusement and sympathy.
+
+It was like the composite toilets of the poor blacks during the hard
+times suggestively called the "reconstruction period," when old women in
+soldier coats and boots, topped by third-hand feathered finery, waited
+at the distributing-station for free rations. No one ever thought of
+laughing at these pathetic grotesques, technically freed but newly
+enslaved by bitter circumstance.
+
+On the night with which this tale begins, when Mammy had put Blossom to
+sleep and tucked the mosquito-bar snugly around her, she went back to
+her place beside her husband, and, lighting her pipe, sat for a long
+time silent. This was so unusual that presently Israel said:
+
+"What de matter wid you dis evenin', Hannah? Huccome you ain't
+a-talkin'?"
+
+Hannah did not answer immediately. But after a time she said slowly:
+
+"I 's jes a-speculatin', Isrul--jes speculatin'." And, after another
+pause, she added, quite irrelevantly:
+
+"Is you got yo' swimp-sacks all set?"
+
+"In co'se I is." Israel's words came through a cloud of smoke.
+
+"An' yo' oars brung in?"
+
+"In co'se I is!"
+
+"An' de skift locked?"
+
+"In co'se I is!"
+
+"An' Blucher fed?"
+
+"What's de matter wid you, Hannah? You reckon I gwine forgit my reg'lar
+business?"
+
+The old woman smoked in silence for some minutes. Then she said:
+
+"Isrul!"
+
+"What you want, Hannah?"
+
+"I say, Isrul, I got some'h'n' on my mind. Hit 's been on my mind more
+'n a yeah, an' hit 's a-gittin' wuss."
+
+"What is it, Hannah?"
+
+"You an' me we 's growin' ole, Isrul--ain't dat so?"
+
+"Yas, Hannah."
+
+"An' we ain't got long to stay heah, hey, Isrul?"
+
+"Yas, ol' 'oman--can't dispute dat."
+
+"An'"--hesitatingly. "_You_ knows what 's on my mind, Isrul!"
+
+"Hit 's on my mind, too, Hannah. You don't need to 'spress yo'se'f. Hit
+'s on my mind, day an' night."
+
+"_What_'s on yo' mind, Isrul?"
+
+The old man began stirring the bowl of his pipe absently.
+
+"'Bout we gittin' ol', Hannah, an' maybe some day we'll drap off an'
+leave Marse Harol's chile all by she se'f, like de chillen in de
+wilderness.
+
+"What mek you mek me say it, Hannah? _You_ knows what 'sponsibility
+Gord done laid on we two. Ain't we done talked it over a hond'ed times
+'fo' now?"
+
+"Dat ain't _all_ what 's on my mind, Isrul."
+
+"What else is you got to fret yo'se'f about, Hannah? Ain't I mekin' you
+a good livin'? Ain't you had de money to put a new little silk frock
+away every yeah for de Blossom, and ain't dey all folded away, one a-top
+de yether, 'g'inst de answer to our prayers, so her daddy'll see her
+dressed to her station when he comes sudden? Ain't you got a
+one-way-silk alapaca frock an' a good bonnet for yo'se'f to tek de chile
+by de han' wid--when Gord see fitten to answer us? You ain't
+_hongry_--or _col'_, is yer?"
+
+"G' way, Isrul! Who's studyin' about victuals or clo'es! I 's ponderin'
+about de chile, dat 's all. 'T ain't on'y 'bout we gittin' ol'. _She_ 's
+gittin' _tall_. An' you know, Isrul, you an' me we ain't fitten to raise
+Marse Harol's chile. She's big enough to study quality manners an' white
+behavior. All Marse Harol's fam'ly's chillen knowed all de fancy high
+steps an' played scales on de pianner wid bofe hands at once-t, time dey
+was tall as Blossom is--an' dey made dancin'-school curtsies, too. I
+taken notice, Blossom is sort o' shy, an' she gittin' so she'll stand
+off when anybody speaks to her. Dis heah cabin on de river-bank ain't no
+place for my white folks. I sho' is pestered to see her gittin' shy an'
+shamefaced--like po' folks. Modest manners and upright behavior is her
+portion. I _know_ it by heart, but I can't _show_ it to her--I know it
+by knowledge, but of co'se I can't perform it; an' it frets me."
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"What is it, Isrul?"
+
+"Who gi'n us dis 'sponsibility? Is we axed for it?"
+
+"No, Isrul, we ain't axed for it."
+
+"Ain't you an' me promised Mis' Agnes, de day she died, to keep his
+chile, safe-t an' sound, tell Marse Harol' come?"
+
+"Dat 's six yeahs past, dis comin' Christmus, Isrul. I b'lieve Marse
+Harol' done dead an' gone."
+
+"Huccome you believe he dead? Is he come to you in de sperit?"
+
+"No, he ain't come, an' dat 's huccome hope stays wid me. If he was free
+in de sperit lan' he sho' would come an' gimme a sign. But reason is
+reason, an' ef he _ain't_ dead, huccome he don't come an' look arter his
+chile? My white folks warn't nuver shirkers--nor deserters. So, when I
+stays off my knees awhile an' casts away faith in de unseen, seem dat my
+horse-sense hit gives me trouble. An' den, like to-night, somehow my
+courage sinks, an' look like I kin see him dead an' forgot in some ol'
+ditch on de battle-field.
+
+"Jes _s'posin'_ dat 's de trufe, Isrul, what we boun' to do wid
+Blossom?"
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"You done heared a plenty o' preachin', ain't yer?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"Is you ever heared a preacher preach 'bout _s'posin'_?"
+
+"No, Isrul."
+
+"But I tell you what you _is_ hearn 'em preach about. You hearn 'em
+preach about _watchin'_ an' _prayin'_."
+
+"Dat 's so, Isrul, but yit'n still, you know de scripture say 'Hope
+referred meketh de heart sick.' You ricollec' dat, don't you?"
+
+"Yas, but dat 's a side-track. Dat ain't got nothin' to do wid answer to
+prayer. Dat 's jes to give comfort to weary souls, when de waitin'-time
+is long; dat 's all. Dey may git sick at heart--jes' waitin'."
+
+"You right, Isrul."
+
+"Well, an' arter watchin' an' prayin', dey 's one mo' thing needful. An'
+dat 's _faith_.
+
+"Ef we _watches_ for Marse Harol' to come, an' _prays_ for 'im to come,
+an' don't _trus'_, you reckon Gord gwine to bother wid us?"
+
+"I _tries_ to trus', Isrul, an' mos' days I does look for Marse Harol'.
+Many 's de time I done taken Blossom by de hand an' walked along de
+levee an' looked down in de Ca'ollton gyarden while de ban' played, an'
+jes fairly scroochinized my ol' eyes out, hopin' to reconnize 'im in de
+dance. I'm dat big a fool in faith--I sho' is. An' I tries de best I kin
+to keep my faith warm, so de good Lord 'll see it glowin' like a live
+coal in my heart an' he 'll 'member hisse'f about de chile an' sen' 'er
+daddy home, _sen' 'er daddy home_! My Gord, I say, SEN' 'ER DADDY HOME!
+I tries continu'sly, Isrul."
+
+"You must n't talk about tryin', Hannah. You mus' jes b'lieve it, same
+as a little chile--same like you see it; an' den you does see it. An'
+when you git along so fur dat you _sees_ wid de neye o' faith, Gord 'll
+sho' mek yo' faith good. Ef faith kin h'ist a mountain an' shove it
+along, hit can fetch a man home whar he b'longs; an' hit 'll do it,
+too."
+
+"Isrul!"
+
+"What is it, Hannah?"
+
+"Gord ain't nuver _promised_ to sen' Marse Harol' home, as I knows on."
+
+"He's promised to answer de prayer o' faith, ain't He?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul, dat 's so. Pray Him to strenken my faith, ol' man. You
+stays so much on de water wid de sky in yo' eyes, whilst I works 'mongst
+de woodpiles, so close to de yearth--seem like maybe you mought git
+nigher to Gord 'n what I'm enabled to do. Pickin' up chips, hit 's lowly
+work an' hit keeps yo' face down, an'--"
+
+"Don't say dat, ol' 'oman! Use yo' fo'sight an' 'stid o' you seein'
+_chips_ you'll see _kindlin'-wood_. Dat what dey _is_. Dey 'll lead yo'
+heart upward dat-a-way. Heap o' folks don't see nothin' but money in de
+river--money an' mud; an' dey don't know it's a merror sometimes, full
+o' stars an' glory. I done read Gord's rainbow promises on de face o'
+dat muddy river more 'n once-t, when I lifted out my swimp-nets on a
+still mornin' whilst de sun an' de mist consulted together to show a
+mericle to a ol' dim-eyed nigger."
+
+"You sho' does help me when you 'splains it all out dat-a-way, Isrul.
+Pray like a gordly man, ol' pardner, an' yo' ol' 'oman she gwine talk
+faith strong as she kin--widout turnin' hycoprite."
+
+"Dat's right, honey--ol' 'oman--dat's right. _You_ pray an' _I'll_
+pray--an' we'll _watch_ wid _faith_. An' ef Gord don't sen' Marse
+Harol', He'll git a message to us some way, so we'll be guided."
+
+The sound of a horn from across the river put an end to the
+conversation. Some one was blowing for the ferryman.
+
+"PITY you tied _Wood-duck_ up so soon to-night," said the old wife,
+following Israel with her eyes as she spoke, while he rose slowly and
+taking the oars down from the rafters started to the river.
+
+In a moment the old man's answering horn sounded clear and loud in
+response, and the clank of the chain as it dropped in the bow of the
+skiff, followed by the rhythmic sound of the oar-locks, told his
+listening mate that the ferryman was on his way.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Besides plying the ferry-skiff at which Israel earned odd dimes--every
+day a few--he turned many an honest penny with his shrimp-nets.
+
+The rafts of logs chained together at the landing were his, and
+constituted the initial station of a driftwood industry which was
+finally expressed in the long piles of wood which lay stacked in cord
+measures on either side of the cabin.
+
+The low and prolonged talk of the old people to-night had been
+exceptional only in its intensity. The woman's reluctant almost despair
+of a forlorn hope was pathetic indeed. Still it was but momentary. They
+had gone over the same ground many times before, and fear and even
+foreboding had occasionally clouded their vision in reviewing the
+situation.
+
+The woman's observation in regard to the child's growing tall was the
+first suggestion to Israel's mind of the urgency of immediate relief. In
+the stress of material provision, men may be forgiven if they sometimes
+overlook life's abstract values.
+
+Israel was so startled by this new thought that when he had rowed his
+boat out into the clearing which the broad river afforded, he
+involuntarily pressed the handles of his oars, lifting their blades from
+the water, while he turned his eyes in one direction and another and
+then upward. He had a hard problem to solve. Here was a great thinking
+space, and yet, although he stopped for the length of several strokes,
+and the night was mild and still,--although every condition was
+favorable for clear thought,--his mind seemed lost in a sort of maze,
+and it was only when he discovered by a familiar landmark that he was
+drifting fast down-stream, only with this obtrusion of the actual, that
+he rallied quickly, and with a deft stroke or two recovered his course.
+And as the oar-locks measured time again he chuckled:
+
+"I got my lesson, yas, I got my lesson. _Work!_ Dat 's my po'tion. Quick
+as I gits biggoty and tries to read above my head, I goes de downward
+way."
+
+He said it aloud, to himself, and the words gave him renewed energy,
+for, even as he spoke, the _Duck_, with oars for wings, plunged lightly
+forward over the water to a quickened measure.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The old wife, sitting alone, sleepless always when her man was making a
+night trip, was even before his summons to-night painfully awake. It was
+as if the outcry which had burst the door of patience had set her old
+mind free to wander. She seemed to have a broader vision, a new
+perspective upon a situation in which she was herself the chief
+conserving factor. While she kept the child within her door well in her
+subconscious care, and knew by her regular breathing that she slept:
+while she felt the near presence of the dog on guard at her skirts'
+hem, her conscious thoughts were far away.
+
+Quickly even as lightning darts, zigzagging a path of light from one
+remote point to another in its eccentric course--her dim eyes actually
+resting upon the night skies where the lightnings play--she traveled
+again in her musings the arbitrary paths of fate from one crisis to
+another in the eventful latter years of her life. Then she would seem to
+see clear spaces, and again the bolts of misfortune which presaged the
+storm of sorrow out of which had come her present life.
+
+First in the anxious retrospect there was the early break in the family
+when the boys began going away to college; then the sudden marriage of
+the youngest of the three; the declaration of war; the enlistment of the
+two elder students in the voluntary service which had transferred their
+names from the university roster to the list of martyrs.
+
+Another dart as of lightning, and she saw this youngest come home with
+his fair New England bride, to depart with her and Israel for an island
+home beyond the canebrakes, and on the heel of this divided joy came his
+passionate enlisting "to avenge the death of his brothers." And
+then--ah! and then--how fast the zigzags dart! Rapid changes everywhere
+traced in fire, and, as memory recalled them, throughout the whole was
+ever the rolling thunder of artillery, completing the figure.
+
+The story is one of thousands, individualized, of course, each, by
+special incidents and personalities, but the same, every one, in its
+history of faithfulness of the slave people during the crucial period
+when the masters had gone to battle, leaving their wives and babies in
+the care of those whose single chance of freedom depended on the defeat
+of the absent.
+
+Hannah and Israel had been loved and trusted servants in the family of
+old Colonel Le Duc. The woman had nursed all the babies in turn, Harold
+being the last, and hence her own particular "baby" for all time.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Brake Island, so called because of its situation in a dense cane-brake,
+which was at once a menace and a guard, was the most unpopular part of
+the colonel's large estate, albeit there was no land so rich as its
+fields, no wood better stocked with game than the narrow forest lying
+close along its northern limit, no streams more picturesque in their
+windings or better equipped for the angler's art than that of the Bayou
+d'Iris, whose purple banks declared the spring while the robins were
+calling, and before the young mocking-birds in the crape myrtles opened
+their great red mouths for the wriggling song-food of the bayou's brim.
+
+All the Le Duc sons had loved to go to the island to shoot and to fish
+while they were lads, but upon attaining the social age they had grown
+to despise it for its loneliness. The brake which fringed its borders
+had long been a refuge for runaway negroes, who were often forced to
+poach upon its preserves for food, even to the extent of an occasional
+raid upon its smoke-houses and barns, so that women and children were
+wont to shudder at the very idea of living there. Still it had always
+been the declared "favorite spot on earth" to the colonel, who had often
+vowed that no son of his should own it and spurn it.
+
+He lived like a lord himself, it is true, on a broader place of less
+beauty on the bank of the great river,--"keeping one foot in New Orleans
+and one on the plantation," as he expressed it,--and it is not
+surprising that his children had laughingly protested against being
+brought up on house-parties and the opera as preparation for a hermit's
+life, even in "Paradise."
+
+All excepting Harold. While the brothers had protested against the
+island home, he had said little, but when he had brought his bride home,
+and realized the scant affection that stirred the hearts of his family
+at sight of her placid New England face, even while he himself suffered
+much, knowing that her brothers were enlisting in the opposing armies
+and that her family felt her marriage at this time to a slaveholder as a
+poignant sorrow--while the father seemed hesitating as to just what
+paternal provision he should make for his impulsive boy, the boy
+himself, in a sudden towering declaration of his manhood and of
+resentment and pride, turned upon him:
+
+"Give us Brake Island and Mammy and Israel, and cut us loose! And I'll
+show my people a new variety of hermit life!"
+
+The thing was quickly done. A deed of gift made on the spot conveyed
+this Eden of modern times, with its improvements, full working force and
+equipment, to Harold Guyoso Le Duc, who in accepting it assumed the one
+condition of making it his home.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Harold was a brilliant fellow, impulsive and extravagant as he was
+handsome and loving, and he had no sooner taken possession of his Eden
+than he began to plan, by means of a system of engineering, to open it
+up by a canal which should "span the brake and tap the bayou," so that
+boats of size and circumstance might enter. Here he would have a launch
+and a barge, and the great world of culture, of wit, of pleasure, and of
+affluence should come in splendor "to watch a hermit herm," or, as he as
+often put it, "to help a hummit hum."
+
+A great house-party was quickly arranged--a party of gay friends,
+engineers chiefly, bidden for a freely declared purpose--a party which
+is still cherished in the annals of local social history as a typical
+example of affluent ante-bellum hospitality, and is even yet personally
+recalled by a few old men who sit and seem to wait, mostly, in shabby
+clothing incongruously ill fitting their gilded reminiscence, at certain
+dozing business resorts in old New Orleans.
+
+Most of these venerables still live in their shabby ancestral homes,
+although it may be their women take boarders or their best rooms are let
+for business purposes--cleared of their cumbersome furnishings of
+mahogany and rosewood by the rising waters of misfortune which have
+gradually carried them into the "antique-shops" of the vicinity.
+
+A place of honor on the tax-lists and a waiting palace of white marble
+in the cemetery--these querulous witnesses to distinction and of
+permanency are in some cases the sole survivors of the many changes
+incident upon a reconstruction.
+
+To these gentle reminiscers the "Brake Island house-party of Harold Le
+Duc" is even yet the Procrustean bed against which they measure all the
+ostentatious pageantry of a new and despised social order.
+
+For the possible preservation of a bit of local color--gone out in the
+changed light of a new dispensation--behold a hasty sketch of this
+long-ago playtime. The invitations which were sent out, naming a single
+date only, with the flattering implication that the visit so urgently
+desired might never come to an end,--one of the easy fashions of the old
+regime,--promptly brought a dozen men, with as many women, wives and
+sweethearts, to the "big house" beyond the swamp.
+
+This Southern home, which was broadly typical of its class, simple
+enough in its architecture in that its available space, barring the
+watch-tower in the center of its roof, was all upon a single floor and
+its material the indigenous woods of the forest, yet suffered no
+diminution in being called the "big house"--a name which has been made
+to serve many a lesser structure for purposes of distinction.
+
+Set high upon brick pillars,--there are no cellars possible in the
+Mississippi valley country,--its low, spreading form graced the easy
+eminence upon which it stood, dominating its wide demesne with a quiet
+dignity superior to that of many a statelier home.
+
+In design it was a Greek cross. Surrounded on all sides by deep
+balconies, ornate with cornice and Corinthian columns, its four arms
+afforded as many entrances, of which the southern portal was formal
+front, from which an avenue of arbor-vitaes led down to the canopied
+landing at the bayou's bank at the foot of the decline.
+
+The house had been designed and built by Harold's father, in an
+exuberance of youthful enthusiasm, upon his early marriage. He it was
+who had planted the trailing roses and wistaria-vines, whose gnarled
+trunks, now woody and strong as trees, topped the balconies, throwing
+profusions of bloom adown their pillars and along their balustrades.
+Here Lamarque, Solfaterre, Cloth-of-gold, Musk-cluster, Lady-bank,
+Multi-flora--all the cherished climbing roses of an earlier
+period--mingled in harmonious relations with honeysuckle, woodbine, and
+clematis.
+
+The most beautiful of them all, the single yellow-centered Cherokee rose
+of the soil,--good enough in itself for anywhere, but ostracized through
+caste exclusion from distinction of place about the home,--lay in heavy
+tangles in the tall, impenetrable hedges which bounded the garden on
+three sides meeting the bayou at the base of the knoll.
+
+Within its inclosure a resident colony of choice flowers--exotics
+mainly, but domiciled and grown hardy in this protected spot--had waxed
+riotous in the license of years of neglect, and throwing off traditions,
+as many another aristocrat in like circumstances has done before,
+appeared now in novel forms developed in life's open race with children
+of the soil.
+
+Here in season were great trees of camellia, white and red, with each a
+thousand waxen blooms, stalwart woody growths of lemon-verbena, topping
+sweet olives and answering the challenge of the stately oleanders,
+which, in turn, measured heads against the magnolias' shoulders.
+
+Appropriating any available support, great scarlet geraniums ten feet
+high, knowing no winters, laid hands upon the trellises and matched
+pennies with the locust blooms, red petal against white, affiliating,
+weak-spined as they were, with scrub-trees which counted real trees at
+least in their Louisiana pedigrees.
+
+"Cape jasmine borders" had risen into hedges, fencing in certain beds,
+while the violets, which originally guarded fantastic forms in outline,
+had gregariously spread into perennial patches of green and purple.
+
+And everywhere there were orange-trees--not a grove here, but always one
+or more in the range of vision. Their breath was over the garden, and
+even the bees in the locust-trees, with all their fuss and scattering
+of honey sweets, could not dispel their all-pervading suggestion of
+romance--the romance of life incarnate ever expressed in their peerless
+exhibits of flower, fresh fruit and yellow, all growing together upon a
+maternal tree rich in life and tone.
+
+Too many words about an old garden? Perhaps so, and yet--
+
+The spirit of a venerable garden as it rises and shows itself to memory
+is such a benediction that one seeing the vision may sometimes wonder
+if, if _life_, _per se_, be eternal, and the resurrection of _certain_
+so-called "dead" a _fact_, we may not some day wander again in the risen
+gardens of our childhood, recognizing them by verification of certain
+familiar faces of flowers who may know us in turn and bloom
+again--taking up life, which ever includes love and immortality, at the
+point of suspension, as a mother, waking from a nap, goes back to her
+window, and catching up her broken song held in the cobwebs of sleep,
+sings it through, while she finishes a little sleeve, her foot again
+upon the cradle at her side.
+
+Life is the great serial--one chapter printed here, another there--a
+seemingly finished comedy crowding a tragedy unrelated, yonder.
+
+The discerning artist who, reading as he runs, brings these parts into
+line will have begun the great book. Until Gabriel wills, it may not be
+finished.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+It was, no doubt, but natural that the man of the world, who had
+deserted such an Eden of his own designing for the ostensible excuse of
+business convenience, should have resented in his sons their inherited
+repugnance to the retired life.
+
+What more formidable combatant than one's own stubbornness, turned to
+confront him, in his children?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The broken trip from New Orleans to the Island took nearly two days,
+although the crow does it easily in a few hours.
+
+The initial munificence of chartering one of the great Mississippi
+steamboats for the first stage of the journey set the pace for the
+entire occasion. Host and hostess met their guests at the river landing
+with carriages and cane wagons gaily bedecked with evergreens, mosses,
+and dogwood branches in flower, and a merry drive through several miles
+of forest brought them to the banks of the bayou, where a line of
+rowboats awaited them.
+
+The negro boatmen, two to man each skiff, wearing jumpers of the Harvard
+crimson, stood uncovered in line at the bayou's edge, and as the party
+alighted, they served black coffee from a fire in the open.
+
+The negro with a cup of coffee his own hue and clear as wine is ever an
+ubiquitous combination in the Louisiana lowlands. He bobs up so
+unexpectedly in strange places balancing his tiny tray upon his hand,
+that a guest soon begins to look for him almost anywhere after an
+interval of about three dry hours, and with a fair chance of not being
+disappointed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When finally the party had embarked, the hostess riding in the first
+boat with the governor of the State, while Harold brought up the rear
+with the governor's lady, the sun was low in the west, and narrow
+search-lights, piercing the wood for a brief moment, revealed a great
+wonder-world of dank growths so fairly alive with creeping, flying,
+darting things--chirping, calling, singing, croaking, humming, and
+hooting--that when in a twinkling the light suddenly went out, many of
+the women shuddered with a shrinking sense of the uncanny.
+
+Before this intangible emotion had time to crystallize into fear,
+however, each pilot who manipulated the rudder astern had drawn from
+under his seat a great torch of pine and set it ablaze.
+
+Under festoons of gray Spanish moss, often swung so low that heads and
+torches were obliged to defer to them, and between flowering banks which
+seemed sometimes almost to meet in the floating growths which the
+dividing bows of the boats plowed under, the little crafts sped lightly
+along.
+
+Occasionally a heavy plunging thing would strike the water with a thud,
+so near a boat that a girlish shriek would pierce the wood, spending
+itself in laughter. A lazy alligator, sleepily enjoying a lily-pool,
+might have been startled by the light, or a line of turtles, clinging
+like knots to a log over the water, suddenly let go.
+
+Streaks of darting incandescence marked the eccentric flights of a
+million fireflies flecking the deep wood whose darkness they failed to
+dispel; and once or twice two reflected lights a few inches apart,
+suggesting a deer in hiding, increased the tremulous interest of this
+super-safe but most exciting journey.
+
+But presently, before impressions had time to repeat themselves, and
+objects dimly discerned to become familiar, a voice from the leading
+boat started a song.
+
+It was a great voice, vibrant, strong, and soft as velvet, and when
+presently it was augmented by another, insidiously thrown in, then
+another in the next boat, until all the untutored Harvard oarsmen were
+bravely singing and the dipping oars fell into the easy measure, all
+sense of fear or place was lost in the great uplift of the rhythmic
+melody.
+
+At special turns through the wood ringing echoes gave back the strains.
+A mocking-bird, excited by the unusual noise, poured forth a rival
+disputatious song, and an owl hooted, and something barked like a fox;
+but it was the great singing of the men which filled the wood.
+
+Common songs of the plantation followed one another--songs of love, of
+night and bats, of devils and hobgoblins, selected according to the will
+of the leader--all excepting the opening song, which, although of the
+same repertoire, was "by request," and for obvious reasons.
+
+It was called "When de Sun Swings Low," and ran something like this:
+
+    Look out for Mister Swaller when de sun swings low--
+              Watch him swoop an' sway!
+    He keeps a mighty dippin', like he don' know whar to go,
+              A-saggin' every way.
+          He starts sort o' nimbly,
+          But he settles mighty wimbly
+          When he scurries for de chimbley
+                When de sun swings low.
+
+    Does you see a cloud a-risin' when de sun swings low?
+              Listen ef it sings.
+    Hit 's a swarm o' gray muskitties, 'bout a million strong or so,
+              A-sharpenin' up der stings.
+            Dey keeps a mighty filin',
+            An' dey tries to sing beguilin',
+            But de 'skitties' song is rilin'
+                When de sun swings low.
+
+    Oh, de woods is all conversin' when de sun swings low--
+              Bird an' beast an' tree;
+    Dey all communes together in de languages dey know,
+              An' sperits rise to see.
+           De nightmares prances,
+           An' de will-o'-wisp dances,
+           When de moonlight advances
+              An' de sun swings low.
+
+But most naive and characteristic of them all perhaps was "Ol' Marse
+Adam."
+
+    Ole Mister Devil took a walk in Paradise--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too--
+    Hoped to meet Mars' Adam, she was steppin' mighty nice--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+    Dis was 'fo' de fig-time, so my lady picked a rose--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too--
+    An' she helt it 'g'inst de sunlight, as she felt de need o' clo'es--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+    Den she shuk 'er yaller ringlets down an' 'lowed dat she was dressed--
+          Lady Mis' Eve, she's a-walkin', too--
+    Mister Devil he come quoilin'--everbody knows de rest--
+          Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too.
+
+Then, changing to a solemn, staccato measure, it went on:
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Et de lady's apple up an' give her all de blame.
+    Greedy-gut, greedy-gut, whar is yo' shame?
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Caught de apple in 'is neck an' made it mighty so'e,
+    An' so we po' gran'chillen has to swaller roun' de co'e.
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+      Ole Marse Adam! Ole Marse Adam!
+    Praised de lady's attitudes an' compliment 'er figur'--
+    Didn't have de principle of any decent nigger.
+    Ole Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame?
+
+It was a long pull of five miles up the winding stream, but the spirit
+of jollity had dispelled all sense of time, and when at last the
+foremost boat, doubling a jutting clump of willows, came suddenly into
+the open at the foot of the hill, the startling presentment of the white
+house illuminated with festoons of Chinese lanterns, which extended
+across its entire width and down to the landing, was like a dream of
+fairyland.
+
+It was indeed a smiling welcome, and exclamations of delight announced
+the passage of the boats in turn as they rounded the willow bend.
+
+The firing of a single cannon, with a simultaneous display of
+fireworks, and music by the plantation band, celebrated the landing of
+the last boat.
+
+Servants in the simple old-fashioned dress--checked homespun with white
+accessories, to which were added for the occasion, great rosettes of
+crimson worn upon the breast--took care of the party at the landing,
+bringing up the rear with hand-luggage, which they playfully balanced
+upon their heads or shifted with fancy steps.
+
+The old-time supper--of the sort which made the mahogany groan--was
+served on the broad back "gallery," while the plantation folk danced in
+the clearing beyond, a voice from the basement floor calling out the
+figures.
+
+This was a great sight.
+
+Left here to their own devices as to dress, the negroes made so dazzling
+a display that, no matter how madly they danced, they could scarcely
+answer the challenge of their own riotous color schemes.
+
+Single dancers followed; then "lad_y_es and gentiles" in pairs, taking
+fantastic steps which would shame a modern dancing-master without once
+awakening a blush in a maiden's cheek.
+
+The dancing was refined, even dainty, to-night, the favorite achievement
+of the women being the mincing step taken so rapidly as to simulate
+suspension of effort, which set the dancers spinning like so many tops,
+although there was much languid posing, with exchange of salutations and
+curtsying galore.
+
+Yet not a twirl of fan or dainty lift of flounce--to grace a figure or
+display a dexterous foot--but expressed a primitive idea of high
+etiquette.
+
+The "fragments" left over from the banquet of the upper porch--many of
+them great unbroken dishes, meats, game, and sweets--provided a great
+banquet for the dancers below, and the gay late feasters furnished
+entertainment, fresh and straight from life, to the company above, for
+whose benefit many of their most daring sallies were evidently thrown
+out--and who, after their recent experiences, were pleased to be so
+restfully entertained.
+
+Toasts, drunk in ginger-pop and persimmon beer innocent of guile, were
+offered after grace at the beginning of the supper, the toaster stepping
+out into the yard and bowing to the gallery while he raised his glass
+or, literally, his tin cup--the passage of the master's bottle among the
+men, later in the evening, being a distinct feature.
+
+The first toast was offered to the ladies--"Mistus an' Company-ladies";
+and the next, following a suggestion of the first table, where the host
+had been much honored, was worded about in this wise:
+
+"We drinks to de health, an' wealth, _an'_ de long life of de _leadin'
+gentleman_ o' _Brake Island_, who done put 'isself to so much pains an'
+money to give dis party. But to make de toast accordin' to manners, so
+hit'll fit de gentleman's visitors long wid hisself, I say let's drink
+to who but 'OLE MARSE ADAM!'"
+
+It is easy to start a laugh when a festive crowd is primed for fun, and
+this toast, respectfully submitted with a low bow by an ancient and
+privileged veteran of the rosined bow, was met with screams of delight.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+A resourceful little island it was that could provide entertainment for
+a party of society folk for nearly a fortnight with never a repetition
+to pall or to weary.
+
+The men, equipped for hunting or fishing, and accompanied by several
+negro men-servants with a supplementary larder on wheels,--which is to
+say, a wagon-load of bread, butter, coffee, condiments, and wines, with
+cooking utensils,--left the house early every morning, before the ladies
+were up.
+
+They discussed engineering schemes over their fishing-poles and
+game-bags, explored the fastnesses of the brake, eavesdropped for the
+ultimate secret of the woods, and plumbed for the bayou's heart,
+bringing from them all sundry tangible witnesses of geologic or other
+conditions of scientific values.
+
+Most of these "witnesses," however, it must be confessed, were
+immediately available for spit or grill, while many went--so bountiful
+was the supply--to friends in the city with the cards of their captors.
+
+There are champagne bottles even yet along the marshes of Brake Island,
+bottles whose bellies are as full of suggestion as of mud, and whose
+tongueless mouths fairly whistle as if to recount the canards which
+enlivened the swampland in those halcyon days of youth and hope and
+inexperience.
+
+Until the dressing-hour, in the early afternoons which they frankly
+called the evening, the young women coddled their bloom in linen cambric
+night-gowns, mostly, reading light romance and verse, which they quoted
+freely under the challenge of the masculine presence.
+
+Or they told amazing mammy-tales of voudoo-land and the ghost-country
+for the amused delectation of their gentle hostess, who felt herself
+warmed and cheered in the sunshine of these Southern temperaments. It
+seemed all a part of the poetry and grace of a novel and romantic life.
+
+Here were a dozen young women, pretty and care-free as flowers, any one
+of whom could throw herself across the foot of a bed and snatch a
+superfluous "beauty-sleep" in the midst of all manner of jollity and
+laughter.
+
+Most of them spoke several languages and as many dialects, frequently
+passing from one to another in a single sentence for easy subtlety or
+color, and with distinct gain in the direction of music.
+
+Possibly they knew somewhat of the grammar of but a single tongue beside
+their own, their fluency being more of a traditional inheritance than an
+acquisition. Such is the mellow equipment of many of our richest
+speakers.
+
+Not one but could pull to pieces her Olympe bonnet and nimbly retrim it
+with pins, to match her face or fancy--or dance a Highland fling in her
+'broidered nightie, or sing--
+
+How they all did sing--and play! Several were accomplished musicians.
+One knew the Latin names of much of the flora of the island, and found
+time and small coins sufficient to interest a colony of eager
+pickaninnies to gather specimens for her "herbarium."
+
+Without ever having prepared a meal, they could even cook, as they had
+soon amply proven by the heaping confections which were always in
+evidence at the man-hour--bon-bons, kisses, pralines, what not?--all
+fragrant with mint, orange-flower, rose-leaf, or violet, or heavy with
+pecans or cocoanut.
+
+In the afternoon, when the men came home, they frequently engaged in
+contests of skill--in rowing or archery or croquet; or, following
+nature's manifold suggestions, they drifted in couples, paddling
+indolently among the floating lily-pads on the bayou, or reclining among
+the vines in the summer-houses, where they sipped iced orange syrup or
+claret sangaree, either one a safe lubricator, by mild inspiration or
+suggestion, of the tongue of young love, which is apt to become tied at
+the moment of most need.
+
+[Illustration: "Sipped iced orange syrup or claret sangaree"]
+
+With the poems of Moore to reinforce him with easy grace of words, a
+broad-shouldered fellow would naively declare himself a peri, standing
+disconsolate at the gate of his lady's heart, while she quoted Fanny
+Fern for her defense, or, if she were passing intellectual and of a
+broader culture, she would give him invitation in form of rebuff from
+"The Lady of the Lake," or a scathing line from Shakspere. Of course,
+all the young people knew their Shakspere--more or less.
+
+They had their fortunes told in a half-dozen fashions, by withered old
+crones whose dim eyes, discerning life's secrets held lightly in
+supension, mated them recklessly _on suspicion_.
+
+Visiting the colored churches, they attended some of the novel services
+of the plantation, as, for instance, a certain baptismal wedding, which
+is to say a combined ceremony, which was in this case performed quite
+regularly and decorously in the interest of a coal-black piccaninny,
+artlessly named Lily Blanche in honor of two of the young ladies present
+whom the bride-mother had seen but once out driving, but whose gowns of
+flowered organdy, lace parasols, and leghorn hats had stirred her sense
+of beauty and virtue to action.
+
+Although there was much amusement over this incongruous function, the
+absence of any sense of embarrassment in witnessing so delicate a
+ceremony--one which in another setting would easily have become
+indelicate--was no doubt an unconscious tribute to the primitive
+simplicity of the contracting parties.
+
+And always there were revival meetings to which they might go and hear
+dramatic recitals of marvelous personal "experiences," full of
+imagery,--travels in heaven or hell,--with always the resounding human
+note which ever prevails in vital reach for truth. Through it all they
+discerned the cry which finds the heart of a listener and brings him
+into indissoluble relation with his brother man, no matter how great the
+darkness out of which the note may come. It is universal.
+
+The call is in every heart, uttered or unexpressed, and one day it will
+pierce the heavens, finding the blue for him who sends it forth, and for
+the listener as well if his heart be attuned.
+
+Let who will go and sit through one of these services, and if he does
+not come away subdued and silent, more tender at heart, and, if need be,
+stronger of hand to clasp and to lift, perhaps--well, perhaps his mind
+is open only to the pictorial and the spectacular.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is no telling how long the house-party would have remained in
+Paradise but for the inexorable calendar which warned certain of its
+members that they would be expected to answer the royal summons of Comus
+at the approaching carnival; and of course the important fact that
+certain bills from the legislature affecting the public weal were
+awaiting the governor's signature.
+
+A surprising number of marriages followed this visit, seeming to confirm
+a report of an absurd number of engagements made on the island.
+
+There is a certain old black woman living yet "down by the old basin" in
+French New Orleans, a toothless old crone who, by the irony of
+circumstance, is familiarly known as "Ol' Mammy Molar," who "remembers"
+many things of this time and occasion, which she glibly calls "de
+silveringineer party," and who likes nothing better than an audience.
+
+If she is believed, this much too literal account of a far-away time is
+most meager and unfaithful, for she does most strenuously insist that,
+for instance, there was served at the servants' table on that first
+night--
+
+But let her have her way of it for a moment--just a single breath:
+
+"Why, honey," she closes her eyes as she begins, the better to see
+memory behind them. "Why, honey, de champagne wine was passed aroun' to
+de hands all dat indurin' infair in _water-buckets_, an' dipped out in
+_gou'd dippers-full_, bilin' over so fast an' fizzin' so it'd tickle yo'
+mouf to drink it. An' Marse Harol' Le Duc, he stood on a _pi_anner-stool
+on de back gallery an' th'owed out gol' dollars by de hatful for any of
+us niggers to pick up; an' de guv'ner, ol' Marse Abe Lincolm, he fired
+off sky-rockers an' read out freedom papers.
+
+"An' mids' all de dance an' reveltry, a bolt o' thunder fell like a
+cannon-ball outen a clair sky, an' we looked up an' lo an' beholst, here
+was a vision of a big hand writin' on de sky, an' a voice say, '_Eat up
+de balance ef anything is found wantin'_!' an' wid dat, dey plunged in
+like a herd o' swine boun' for de sea, an' dey devoured de fragmints an'
+popped mo' corks, an' dipped out mo' champagne wine, an' de mo' dey
+dipped out champagne wine, de mo' dey 'd dance. An' de mo' dey 'd dance,
+de mo' de wine would flow."
+
+Possibly the old woman's obvious confusion of thought has some
+explanation in the fact of the presence of the governor of the State,
+who, introduced as a high dignitary, did make a little speech late that
+night, thanking the colored people in terms of compliment for their
+dancing; and any impression made here was so quickly overlaid by the
+deeper experiences of the war that a blending can easily be explained.
+
+There was a shower of coins--"picayunes" only--thrown during the evening
+by the master, a feature of the dance being to recover as many of them
+as possible without breaking step. So the old woman's memory is not so
+far afield, although as a historian she might need a little editing. But
+such even as this is much of the so-called "history" which, bound in
+calf, dishonors the world's libraries to-day.
+
+It is so easy, seeing cobwebs upon a record,--cobwebs which may not be
+quite construed as alphabet,--to interpret them as hieroglyphics of
+import, instead of simply brushing them away, or relegating them, where
+they belong, to the dusky domain of the myth out of which we may expect
+only weird suggestion, as from the mold of pressed rosemary, typifying
+remembrance dead.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The house-party, which in this poor retrospect seems to have devoted
+itself almost wholly to pleasure, was nevertheless followed by immediate
+work upon the project in behalf of which it was planned.
+
+With this main motive was also the ulterior and most proper one in
+Harold's mind of introducing his wife in so intimate a fashion to some
+of the important members of society, who would date life-friendships
+from the pleasant occasion of helping him to open his own door to them.
+
+Some thousands of dollars went into the quicksands of the marshes before
+the foundations were laid for the arch of a proposed great bridge,
+beneath which his boats should sail to their landing. With the arrogant
+bravado of an impulsive boy challenged to action, he began his arch
+first. Its announcement of independence and munificence would express
+the position he had taken. Sometimes it is well to put up a bold front,
+even if one needs work backward from it.
+
+Harold moved fast--but the gods of war moved faster!
+
+Scarcely had a single column of solid masonry risen above the palmetto
+swamp when Fort Sumter's guns sounded. The smell of gunpowder penetrated
+the fastnesses of the brake, and yet, though his nostrils quivered like
+those of an impetuous war-horse, the master held himself in rein with
+the thought of her who would be cruelly alone without him. And he said
+to himself, while he reared his arch: "Two out of three are enough! I
+have taken their terror island for my portion. They may have garlands
+upon my bridge--when they come sailing up my canal as heroes!"
+
+But the next whiff from the battleground stopped work on the arch. The
+brothers had fallen side by side.
+
+[Illustration: "The brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his
+beloved, dashed to the front"]
+
+Madly seizing both the recovered swords, declaring he would "fight as
+three," the brave, unthinking fellow, after embracing his beloved, put
+one of her hands in Hannah's and the other in Israel's, and, commending
+them to God by a speechless lift of his dark eyes, mounted his horse and
+dashed, as one afraid to look back, to the front.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+Every one knows the story of "poor Harold Le Duc"--how, captured,
+wounded, he lay for more than a year on the edge of insanity in a
+Federal hospital. Every one knows of the birth of his child on the
+lonely island, with only black hands to receive and tend it, and how the
+waiting mother, guarded by the faithful two, and loved by the three
+hundred loyal slaves who prayed for her life, finally passed out of it
+on the very day of days for which she had planned a great Christmas
+banquet for them in honor of their master's triumphant return.
+
+The story is threadbare. Everyone knows how it happened that "the old
+people," Colonel and Madame Le Duc, having taken flight upon report of a
+battle, following their last son, had crossed the lines and been unable
+from that day to communicate with the island; of the season of the
+snake-plague in the heart of the brake, when rattlers and copperheads,
+spreading-adders, moccasins, and conger-eels came up to the island,
+squirming, darting, or lazily sunning themselves in its flowering
+grounds and lily-ponds, some even finding their way into the very beds
+of the people; when the trees were deserted of birds, and alligators
+prowled across the terraces, depredating the poultry-yard and even
+threatening the negro children.
+
+In the presence of so manifold disaster many of the negroes returned to
+voodooism, and nude dances by weird fires offered to Satan supplanted
+the shouting of the name of Christ in the churches. A red streak in the
+sky over the brake was regarded as an omen of blood--the thunderbolt
+which struck the smoke-stack of the sugar-house a command to stop work.
+
+Old women who had treated the sick with savory teas of roots and herbs
+lapsed into conjuring with bits of hair and bones. A rabbit's foot was
+more potent than medicine; a snake's tooth wet with swamp scum and dried
+in the glare of burning sulphur more to be feared than God.
+
+War, death and birth and death again, followed by scant provender
+threatening famine, and then by the invasion of serpents, had struck
+terror into hearts already tremulous and half afraid.
+
+The word "freedom" had scarcely reached the island and set the air
+vibrating with hope, commingled with dread, when the reported death of
+the master came as a grim corroboration of the startling prospect.
+
+All this is an open story.
+
+But how Israel and Hannah, aided in their flight by a faithful few,
+slipped away one dark night, carrying the young child with them to bear
+her safely to her father's people, knowing nothing of their absence,
+pending the soldier's return--for the two never believed him dead; how,
+when they had nearly reached the rear lands of the paternal place, they
+were met by an irresistible flood which turned them back; and how,
+barely escaping with their lives, they were finally rowed in a skiff
+quite through the hall of the great house--so high, indeed, that Mammy
+rescued a family portrait from the wall as they passed; how the baby
+slept through it all, and the dog followed, swimming--
+
+This is part of the inside history never publicly told.
+
+The little party was taken aboard a boat which waited midstream, a tug
+which became so overcrowded that it took no account of passengers whom
+it carried safely to the city. Of the poor forlorn lot, a few found
+their way back to the plantations in search of survivors, but in most
+instances, having gone too soon, they returned disheartened.
+
+Madame Le Duc, who, with her guests and servants, had fled from the
+homestead at the first warning, did not hear for months of the flight of
+the old people with her grandchild, and of their supposed fate. No one
+doubted that all three had perished in the river, and the news came as
+tardy death tidings again--tidings arriving after the manner of war
+news, which often put whole families in and out of mourning, in and out
+of season.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+There is not space here to dwell upon Harold's final return to Brake
+Island, bent and broken, unkempt,--disguised by the marks of sorrow,
+unrecognized, as he had hoped to be, of the straggling few of his own
+negroes whom he encountered camping in the wood, imprisoned by fear.
+These, mistaking him for a tramp, avoided him. He had heard the news _en
+route_,--the "news," then several years old,--and had, nevertheless,
+yielded to a sort of blind, stumbling fascination which drew him back to
+the scene of his happiness and his despair. Here, after all, was the
+real battle-field--and he was again vanquished.
+
+When he reached the homestead, he found it wholly deserted. The "big
+house," sacred to superstition through its succession of tragedies, was
+as Mammy and Israel had left it. Even its larder was untouched, and the
+key of the wine-cellar lay imbedded in rust in sight of the cob-webbed
+door.
+
+It was a sad man, prematurely gray, and still gaunt--and white with the
+pallor of the hospital prison--who, after this sorrowful pilgrimage to
+Brake Island, appeared, as from the grave, upon the streets of New
+Orleans. When he was reinstated in his broken home, and known once more
+of his family and friends, he would easily have become the popular hero
+of the hour, for the gay world flung its gilded doors open to him.
+
+The Latin temperament of old New Orleans kept always a song in her
+throat, even through all the sad passages of her history; and there was
+never a year when the French quarter, coquette that she was, did not
+shake her flounces and dance for a season with her dainty toes against
+the lower side of Canal Street.
+
+But Harold was not a fellow of forgetful mind. The arch of his life was
+broken, it is true, but like that of the bridge he had begun--a bridge
+which was to invite the gay world, yes, but which would ever have
+dominated it, letting its sails pass under--he could be no other than a
+worthy ruin. Had his impetuous temper turned upon himself on his return
+to the island, where devastation seemed to mock him at every turn, there
+is no telling where it might have driven him. But a lonely mother, and
+the knowledge that his father had died of a broken heart upon the report
+of his death, the last of his three sons--the pathetic, dependence of
+his mother upon him--the appeal of her doting eyes and the exigencies of
+an almost hopeless financial confusion--all these combined as a
+challenge to his manhood to take the helm in the management of a wrecked
+estate.
+
+It was a saving situation. How often is work the great savior of men!
+
+Once stirred in the direction of effort, Harold soon developed great
+genius for the manipulation of affairs. Reorganization began with his
+control.
+
+Square-shouldered and straight as an Indian, clear of profile,
+deep-eyed, and thoughtful of visage, the young man with the white hair
+was soon a marked figure. When even serious men "went foolish over him,"
+it is not surprising that ambitious mothers of marriageable daughters,
+in these scant days of dearth of men, should have exhibited occasional
+fluttering anxieties while they placed their broken fortunes in his
+hands.
+
+Reluctantly at first, but afterward seeing his way through experience,
+Harold became authorized agent for some of the best properties along the
+river, saving what was left, and sometimes even recovering whole estates
+for the women in black who had known before only how to be good and
+beautiful in the romantic homes and gardens whose pervading perfume had
+been that of the orange-blossom.
+
+It was on returning hurriedly from a trip to one of these places on the
+upper river--the property of one Marie Estelle Josephine Ramsey de La
+Rose, widowed at "Yellow Tavern"--that he sought the ferry skiff on the
+night old man Israel answered the call.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Little the old man dreamed, while he waited, midstream, trying to think
+out his problem, that the solution was so near at hand.
+
+We have seen how the old wife waited and prayed on the shore; how with
+her shaded mind she groped, as many a wiser has done, for a comforting,
+common-sense understanding of faith, that intangible "substance of
+things hoped for," that elusive "evidence of things not seen."
+
+In a moment after she heard the creaking of the timbers as the skiff
+chafed the landing, even while she rose, as was her habit, to see who
+might be coming over so late, she dimly perceived two men approaching,
+Israel and another; and presently she saw that Israel held the man's
+hand and that he walked unsteadily.
+
+She started, fearing that her man was hurt; but before she could find
+voice of fear or question, Israel had drawn the stranger to her and was
+saying in a broken voice:
+
+"Hannah! Hannah! Heah Mars' Harol'!"
+
+Only a moment before, with her dim eyes fixed upon the sky, she had
+experienced a realization of faith, and believed herself confidently
+awaiting her master's coming. And yet, seeing him now in the flesh
+before her, she exclaimed:
+
+"What foolishness is dis, ole man? Don't practice no jokes on me
+to-night, Isrul!"
+
+Her voice was almost gruff, and she drew back as she spoke. But even
+while she protested, Harold had laid his hand upon her arm.
+
+"Mammy," he whispered huskily, "don't you know your 'indurin' devil'--?"
+(This had been her last, worst name for her favorite during his mischief
+period.)
+
+Harold never finished his sentence. The first sound of his voice had
+identified him, but the shock had confused her. When at last she sobbed
+"Hush! I say, hush!" her arms were about his knees and she was crying
+aloud.
+
+[Illustration: "Her arms were about his knees"]
+
+"Glo-o-o--oh--glo-o-o--glo-o-ry! Oh, my Gord!" But presently, wiping her
+eyes, she stammered: "What kep' you so, Baby? Hol' me up, chile--hol'
+me!"
+
+She was falling, but Harold steadied her with strong arms, pressing her
+into her chair, but retaining her trembling hand while he sat upon the
+low table beside her.
+
+He could not speak at once, but, seeing her head drop upon her bosom, he
+called quickly to Israel. For answer, a clarion note, in no wise muffled
+by the handkerchief from which it issued, came from the woodpile. Israel
+was shy of his emotions and had hidden himself.
+
+By the time he appeared, sniffling, Hannah had rallied, and was pressing
+Harold from her to better study his face at long range.
+
+"What happened to yo' hair, Baby?" she said presently. "Hit looks as
+bright as dat flaxion curl o' yoze I got in my Testamen'. I was lookin'
+at it only a week ago las' Sunday, an' wishin' I could read de book
+'long wid de curl."
+
+"It is much lighter than that, Mammy. It is whiter than yours. I have
+lived the sorrows of a long life in a few years."
+
+Israel still stood somewhat aside and was taking no note of their
+speech, which he presently interrupted nervously:
+
+"H-how you reckon Mars' Harol' knowed me, Hannah? He--he reco'nized his
+horn! You ricollec' when I fotched dat horn f'om de islan' roun' my
+neck, clean 'crost de flood, you made game o' me, an' I say I mought
+have need of it? But of co'se I didn't ca'culate to have it ac-_chilly_
+call Mars' Harol' home! I sho' didn't! But dat's what it done. Cep'n'
+for de horn's call bein' so familius, he'd 'a' paid me my dime like a
+stranger an' passed on."
+
+At this Harold laughed.
+
+"Sure enough, Uncle Israel; you didn't collect my ferriage, did you? I
+reckon you'll have to charge that."
+
+Israel chuckled:
+
+"Lord, Hannah, listen! Don't dat soun' like ole times? Dey don't charge
+nothin' in dese han'-to-mouf days, Marse Harol'--not roun' heah."
+
+"But tell me, Uncle Israel, how did you happen to bring that old horn
+with you--sure enough?" Harold interrupted.
+
+"I jes fotched it _'ca'se I couldn't leave it_--de way Hannah snatched
+yo' po'trit off de wall--all in dat deluge. Hit's heah in de cabin now
+to witness de trip. But in co'se o' time de horn, hit come handy when I
+tuk de ferry-skift.
+
+"Well, Hannah, when he stepped aboa'd, he all but shuk de ole skift to
+pieces. I ought to knowed dat Le Duc high-step, but I didn't. I jes felt
+his tread, an' s'luted him for a gentleman, an' axed him for Gord sake
+to set down befo' we'd be capsided in de river. I war n't cravin' to
+git drownded wid no aristoc'acy.
+
+"De moon she was hidin', dat time, an' we couldn't see much; but he
+leant over an' he say, 'Uncle,' he say, 'who blowed dat horn 'crost de
+river?' An' I say, 'Me, sir. I blowed it.' Den he say, 'Whose horn _is_
+dat?' An' I 'spon', 'Hit's _my_ horn, sir.' Den my conscience begin to
+gnaw, an' I sort o' stammered, 'Leastways, it b'longs to a frien' o'
+mine wha' look like he ain't nuver gwine to claim it.' I ain't say who
+de frien' was, but d'rec'ly he pushed me to de wall. He ax me p'intedly
+to my face, 'What yo' frien' name, uncle?' An at dat I got de big head
+an' I up an' snap out:
+
+"'Name Le Duc, sir, Harry Le Duc.'
+
+"Jes free an' easy, so, I say it. Lord have mussy! Ef I'd s'picioned dat
+was Mars' Harol' settin' up dar listenin' at me callin' his name so
+sociable an' free, I'd 'a' drapped dem oa's overbo'ad. I sho' would.
+
+"Well, when I say 'Harry Le Duc,' seem like he got kind o' seasick, de
+way he bent his head down, an' I ax him how he come on--ef he got de
+miz'ry anywhars. An' wid dat he sort o' give out a dry laugh, an' den
+what you reckon he ax me? He say, 'Uncle, is you married?' An' wid dat
+_I_ laughed. 'T war n't no trouble for me to laugh at dat. I 'spon',
+'Yas, sirree! You bet I is! Does I look like air rovin' bachelor?' I was
+jes about half mad by dis time.
+
+"Well, so he kep' on quizzifyin' me: ax me whar I live, an' I tol' 'im I
+was a ole risidenter on de levee heah for five years past; an' so we run
+on, back an' fo'th, tell we teched de sho'. An' time de skift bumped de
+landin' he laid his han' on me an' he say, 'Unc' Isrul, whar's Mammy
+Hannah?' An' den--bless Gord! I knowed him! But I ain't trus' myself to
+speak. I des nachelly clawed him an' drug him along to you. I seen de
+fulfilment o' promise, an' my heart was bustin' full, but I ain't got no
+halleluiah tongue like you. I jes passed him along to you an' made for
+de woodpile!"
+
+It was a great moment for Harold, this meeting with the only people
+living who could tell all there was to know of those who were gone.
+
+Hannah's memory was too photographic for judicious reminiscence. The
+camera's great imperfection lies in its very accuracy in recording
+non-essentials, with resulting confusion of values. So the old woman,
+when she turned her mental search-light backward, "beginning at the
+beginning," which to Harold seemed the end of all--the day of his
+departure,--recounted every trivial incident of the days, while Harold
+listened through the night, often suffering keenly in his eagerness to
+know the crucial facts, yet fearing to interrupt her lest some precious
+thing be lost.
+
+A reflected sunrise was reddening the sky across the river when she
+reached the place in the story relating to the baby. Her description
+needed not any coloring of love to make it charming, and while he
+listened the father murmured under his breath:
+
+"And then to have lost her!"
+
+"What dat you say, Marse Harol'?" Hannah gasped, her quick ears having
+caught his despairing tone.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Mammy. Go on. It did seem cruel to have the little one
+drowned. But I don't blame you. It is a miracle that you old people
+saved yourselves."
+
+The old woman turned to her husband and threw up her hands.
+
+"Wh-why, Isrul!" she stammered.
+
+"What's de matter wid you--to set heah all night an' listen at me
+talkin' all roun' de baby--an' ain't named her yit!"
+
+She rose and, drawing Harold after her, entered the door at her back. As
+she pulled aside the curtain a ray of sunlight fell full upon the
+sleeping child.
+
+"Heah yo' baby, Baby!" Her low voice, steadied by its passages through
+greater crises, was even and gentle.
+
+She laid her hand upon the child.
+
+"Wek up, baby! Wek up!" she cried. "Yo' pa done come! Wek up!"
+
+Without stirring even so much as a thread of her golden hair upon the
+pillow, the child opened a pair of great blue eyes and looked from
+Mammy's face to the man's. Then,--so much surer is a child's faith than
+another's,--doubting not at all, she raised her little arms.
+
+Her father, already upon his knees beside her, bent over, bringing his
+neck within her embrace, while he inclosed her slender body with his
+arms. Thus he remained, silent, for a moment, for the agony of his joy
+was beyond tears or laughter. But presently he lifted his child, and,
+sitting, took her upon his lap. He could not speak yet, for while he
+smoothed her beautiful hair and studied her face, noting the blue depths
+of her darkly fringed eyes, the name that trembled for expression within
+his lips was "Agnes--Agnes."
+
+"How beautiful she is!" he whispered presently; and then, turning to
+Hannah, "And how carefully you have kept her! Everything--so sweet."
+
+"Oh, yas!" the old woman hastened to answer. "We ain't spared no pains
+on 'er, Marse Harol'. She done had eve'ything we could git for her, by
+hook or by crook. Of co'se she ain't had no _white kin_ to christen her,
+an' dat was a humiliation to us. She didn't have no to say legal person
+to bring 'er for'ard, so she ain't nuver been _ca'yed up in church_; but
+she's had every sort o' christenin' we could reach.
+
+"I knowed yo' pa's ma, ole Ma'am Toinette, she'd turn in her grave
+lessen her gran'chil' was christened Cat'lic, so I had her christened
+dat way. Dat ole half-blind priest, Father Some'h'n' other, wha' comes
+from Bayou de Glaise, he was conductin' mass meetin' or some'h'n' other,
+down here in Bouligny, an' I took de baby down, an' he sprinkled her in
+Latin or some'h'n' other, an' ornamented behind her ears wid unctious
+ile, an' crossed her little forehead, an' made her eat a few grains o'
+table salt. He _done it straight_, wid all his robes on, an' I g'in him
+a good dollar, too. An' dat badge you see on her neck, a sister o'
+charity, wid one o' dese clair-starched ear-flap sunbonnets on, she put
+dat on her. She say she give it to her to wear so 's she could n't git
+drownded--_like as ef I'd let her drownd_. Yit an' still I lef' it so,
+an' I even buys a fresh blue ribbin for it, once-t an'a while. I hear
+'em say dat blue hit's de Hail Mary color--an' it becomes her eyes, too.
+Dey say what don't pizen fattens, an' I know dem charms couldn't do her
+no hurt, an', of 'co'se, we don't know all. Maybe dey mought ketch de
+eye of a hoverin' angel in de air an' bring de baby into Heavenly
+notice. Of co'se, I wouldn't put no sech as dat on her. I ain't been
+raised to it, an' I ain't no beggin' hycoprite. But I wouldn't take it
+off, nuther.
+
+"Den, I knowed ole Mis', yo' ma, she was 'Pistopal, an' Miss Aggie she
+was Numitarium; so every time a preacher'd be passin' I'd git him to
+perform it his way. Me bein' Baptis' I didn't have no nigger baptism to
+saddle on her.
+
+"So she's bounteously baptized--yas, sir. I reasoned it out dat ef dey's
+only one _true_ baptism, an' I war n't to say _shore_ which one it was,
+I better git 'em all, an' only de _onlies'_ true one would _count_; an'
+den ag'in, ef all honest baptisms is good, den de mo' de merrier, as de
+Book say. Of co'se I knowed pyore rain-water sprinkled on wid a blessin'
+couldn't hurt no chile.
+
+"You see, when one side de house is _French distraction_ an' de yether
+is _English to-scent_, an' dey's a dozen side-nations wid _blood to
+tell_ in all de branches,--well, hit minds me o' dis _ba'm of a thousan'
+flowers_ dat ole Mis' used to think so much of. Hits hard to 'stinguish
+out any one flagrams.
+
+"But talkin' about de baby, she ain't been deprived, no mo' 'n de Lord
+deprived her, for a season, of her rights to high livin' an'--an'
+aristoc'acy--an'--an' petigree, an' posterity, an' all sech as dat.
+
+"An'--
+
+"What dat you say, Mars' Harol'? What _name_ is we--'
+
+"We ain't dast to give 'er no name, Baby, no mo' 'n jes Blossom. I got
+'er wrote down in five citi_fic_ates 'Miss Blossom,' jes so. No, sir. I
+knows my colored place, an' I'll go so far, an' dat's all de further.
+She was jes as much a blossom befo' she was christened as she was
+arterwards, so my namin' 'er don't count. I was 'mos' tempted to call
+out 'Agnes' to de preachers, when dey'd look to me for a name, seem' it
+was her right--like as ef she was borned to it; but--I ain't nuver
+imposed on her. No, sir, we ain't imposed on her noways.
+
+"De on'iest wrong I ever done her--an' Gord knows I done it to save her
+to my arms, an' for you, marster--de on'iest wrong was to let her go
+widout her little sunbonnet an' git her skin browned up so maybe nobody
+wouldn't s'picion she was clair white an' like as not try to wrest her
+from me. An' _one_ time, when a uppish yo'ng man ast me her name, I
+said it straight, but I see him look mighty cu'yus, an' I spoke up an'
+say, 'What other name you 'spect' her to have? My name is Hannah Le Duc,
+an' I's dat child's daddy's mammy.' Excuse me, Mars' Harold, but you
+know I _is_ yo' _black_ mammy--_an' I was in so'e straits_.
+
+"So de yo'ng man, well, he didn't seem to have no raisin'. He jes sort
+o' whistled, an' say I sho is got one mighty blon' gran'chil'--an' I
+'spon', 'Yas, sir; so it seems.'
+
+"An' dat's de on'ies' wrong I ever done her. She sets up at her little
+dinner-table sot wid a table-cloth an' a white napkin,--an' I done buyed
+her a ginuine silver-plated napkin-ring to hold it in, too,--an' she
+says her own little blessin'--dat short 'Grace o' Gord--material
+binefets,' one o' Miss Aggie's; I learned it to her. No, she ain't been
+handled keerless, ef she is been livin' on de outside o' de levee, like
+free niggers. But we ain't to say _lived_ here, 'not perzackly,
+marster. We jes been waitin' along, _so_, dese five years--waitin' for
+to-night.
+
+"I ain't nuver sorted her clo'es out into no bureau; I keeps 'em all in
+her little trunk, perpared to move along."
+
+For a moment the realization of the culmination of her faith seemed to
+suffuse her soul, and as she proceeded, her voice fell in soft, rhythmic
+undulations.
+
+"Ya-as, Mars' Harol', Mammy's baby boy, yo' ol' nuss she been waitin',
+an' o-ole man Isrul _he_ been waitin', an' de Blossom _she_ been
+waitin'. I 'spec' she had de firmes' faith, arter all, de baby did. Day
+by day we all waited--an' night by night. An' sometimes when courage
+would burn low an' de lamp o' faith grow dim, seem like we'd a' broke
+loose an' started a-wanderin' in a sort o' blind search, _'cep'n' for de
+river_.
+
+"Look like ef we'd ever went beyan' de river's call, we'd been same as
+de chillen o' Isrul lost in de tanglement o' de wilderness. All we river
+chillen, we boun' to stay by her, same as toddlin' babies hangs by a
+mammy's skirts. She'll whup us one day, an' chastise us severe; den
+she'll bring us into de light, same as she done to-night--same as reel
+mammies does.
+
+"An', Mars' Harol'--"
+
+She lowered her voice.
+
+"Mars' Harol', don't tell me she don't know! I tell yer, me an' dis
+River we done spent many a dark night together under de stars, an' we
+done talked an' answered one another so many lonely hours--an' she done
+showed us so many mericles on land _an'_ water--
+
+"I tell yer, I done found out some'h'n' about de River, Mars' Harol'.
+She's--why, she's--
+
+"Oh, ef I could only write it all down to go in a book! We been th'ough
+some _merac'lous_ times together, sho' 's you born--sho' 's you born.
+
+"She's a mericle mystery, sho'!
+
+"You lean over an' dip yo' han' in her an' you take it up an' you say
+it's _wet_. You dig yo' oars into her, an' she'll spin yo' boat over her
+breast. You dive down into her, an' you come up--_or don't come up_.
+Some eats her. Some drinks her. Some gethers wealth outen her. Some
+draps it into her. Some drownds in her.
+
+"An' she gives an' takes, an' seem like all her chillen gits
+satisfaction outen her, one way an' another; but yit an' still, she
+ain't nuver flustered. On an' on she goes--rain or shine--high
+water--low water--all de same--on an' on.
+
+"When she craves diamonds for her neck, she reaches up wid long
+onvisible hands an' gethers de stars out'n de firmamint.
+
+"De moon is her common breastpin, an' de sun--
+
+"Even he don't faze her. She takes what she wants, an' sends back his
+fire every day.
+
+"De mists is a veil for her face, an' de showers fringes it.
+
+"Sunrise or dusklight, black night or midday, every change she answers
+_whilst she's passin'_.
+
+"But who ever _in_ticed her to stop or to look or listen? Nobody, Baby.
+An' why?
+
+"Oh, Lord! ef eve'ybody only knowed!
+
+"You see, all sech as dat, I used to study over it an' ponder befo' we
+started to talk back an' fo'th--de River an' me.
+
+"One dark night she heared me cryin' low on de bank, whilst de ole man
+stepped into de boat to row 'crost de water, an' she felt Wood-duck
+settle heavy on her breast, an' she seen dat we carried de same
+troublous thought--searchin' an' waitin' for the fulfilment o' promise.
+
+"An' so we started to call--an' to answer, heart to heart."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The story is nearly told. No doubt many would be willing to have it stop
+here. But a tale of the river is a tale of greed, and must have
+satisfaction.
+
+While father and child sat together, Israel came, bringing fresh chips.
+He had been among the woodpiles again. This time there followed him the
+dog.
+
+"Why, Blucher!" Harold exclaimed. "Blucher, old fellow!" And at his
+voice the dog, whining and sniffing, climbed against his shoulder, even
+licking his face and his hand. Then, running off, he barked at Israel
+and Hannah, telling them in fine dog Latin who the man was who had come.
+Then he crouched at his feet, and, after watching his face a moment,
+laid his head upon his master's right foot, a trick Harold had taught
+him as a pup.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+Of course Harold wished to take the entire family home with him at once,
+and would hear to nothing else until Hannah, serving black coffee to him
+from her furnace, in the dawn, begged that she and Israel might have "a
+few days to rest an' to study" before moving.
+
+It was on the second evening following this, at nightfall, while her man
+was away in his boat, that the old woman rose from her chair and, first
+studying the heavens and then casting about her to see that no one was
+near, she went down to the water, slowly picking her way to a shallow
+pool between the rafts and the shore. She sat here at first, upon the
+edge of the bank, frankly dropping her feet into the water while she
+seemed to begin to talk--or possibly she sang, for the low sound which
+only occasionally rose above the small noises of the rafts was faintly
+suggestive of a priest's intoning.
+
+For a moment only, she sat thus. Then she began to lower herself into
+the water, until, leaning, she could lay her face against the sod, so
+that a wave passed over it, and when, letting her weight go, she
+subsided, with arms extended, into the shallow pool, a close listener
+might have heard an undulating song, so like the river's in tone as to
+be separable from it only through the faint suggestion of words,
+interrupted or drowned at intervals by the creaking and knocking of the
+rafts and the gurgling of the sucking eddies about them.
+
+The woman's voice--song, speech, or what not?--_seemed_ intermittent, as
+if in converse with another presence.
+
+Suddenly, while she stood thus, she dropped bodily, going fully under
+the water for a brief moment, as if renewing her baptism, and when she
+presently lifted herself, she was crying aloud, sobbing as a child sobs
+in the awful momentary despair of grief at the untwining of
+arms--shaken, unrestrained.
+
+While she stood thus for a few minutes only,--a pathetic waste of
+sorrow, wet, dark and forlorn, alone on the night-shore,--a sudden wind,
+a common evening current, threw a foaming wave over the logs beside her
+so that its spray covered her over; while the straining ropes, breaking
+and bumping timbers, with the slow dripping of the spent wave through
+the raft, seemed to answer and possibly to assuage her agitation; for,
+as the wind passed and the waters subsided, she suddenly grew still,
+and, climbing the bank as she had come, walked evenly as one at peace,
+into her cabin.
+
+No one will ever know what, precisely, was the nature of this last
+communion. Was it simply an intimate leave-taking of a faithful
+companionship grown dear through years of stress? Or had it deeper
+meaning in a realization--or hallucination--as to the personality of the
+river--the "secret" to which she only once mysteriously referred in a
+gush of confidence on her master's return?
+
+Perhaps she did not know herself, or only vaguely felt what she could
+not tell. Certainly not even to her old husband, one with her in life
+and spirit, did she try to convey this mystic revelation. We know by
+intuition the planes upon which our minds may meet with those of our
+nearest and dearest. To the good man and soldier, Israel,--the prophet,
+even, who held up the wavering hands of the imaginative woman when her
+courage waned, pointing to the hour of fulfilment,--the great river,
+full of potencies for good or ill, could be only a river. As a mirror it
+had shown him divinity, and in its character it might _typify_ to his
+image-loving mind another thing which service would make it precious.
+But what he would have called his sanity--had he known the word--would
+have obliged him to stop there.
+
+The stars do not tell, and the poor moon--at best only hinting what the
+sun says--is fully half-time off her mind. And the SOUL OF THE
+RIVER--if, indeed, it has once broken silence--may not speak again.
+
+And, so, her secret is safe--safe even if the broken winds did catch a
+breath, here and there, sending it flurriedly through and over the logs
+until they trembled with a sort of mad harp-consciousness, and were set
+a-quivering for just one full strain--one coherent expression of
+soul-essence--when the wave broke. Perhaps the arms of the twin spirits
+were untwined--and they went their separate ways smiling--the woman and
+the river.
+
+When, after a short time, the old wife came out, dressed in fresh
+clothing, her white, starched tignon shining in the moonlight, to sit
+and talk with her husband, her composure was as perfect as that of the
+face of the water which in its serenity suggested the voice of the
+Master, when Peter would have sunk but for his word.
+
+This was to be their last night here. Harold was to bring a carriage on
+the next day to take them to his mother and Blossom, and, despite the
+joy in their old hearts, it cost them a pang to contemplate going away.
+Every woodpile seemed to hold a memory, each feature of the bank a
+tender association. Blucher lay sleeping beside them.
+
+Israel spoke first.
+
+"Hannah!" he said.
+
+"What, Isrul?"
+
+"I ready to go home to-night, Hannah. Marse Harol' done come. We done
+finished our 'sponsibility--an' de big river's a-flowin' on to de
+sea--an' settin' heah, I 'magines I kin see Mis' Aggie lookin' down on
+us, an' seem like she mought want to consult wid us arter our meetin'
+wid Marse Harol' an' we passin' Blossom along. What you say, Hannah?"
+
+"I been tired, ole man, an' ef we could 'a' went las' night, like you
+say, seem like I 'd 'a' been ready--an', of co'se, I'm ready now, ef
+Gord wills. Peace is on my sperit. Yit an' still, when we rests off a
+little an' studies freedom free-handed, we won't want to hasten along
+maybe. Ef we was to set heah an' wait tell Gord calls us,--He ain't ap'
+to call us bofe together, an' dey'd be lonesome days for the last one.
+But ef we goes 'long wid Marse Harol', he an' Blossom'll be a heap o'
+comfort to de one what's left."
+
+"Hannah!"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"We's a-settin' to-night close to de brink--ain't dat so?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"An' de deep waters is in sight, eh, Hannah?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"An' we heah it singin', ef we listen close, eh, Hannah?"
+
+"Yas, Isrul."
+
+"Well, don't let 's forgit it, dat 's all. Don't let's forgit, when we
+turns our backs on dis swellin' tide, dat de river o' Jordan is jes
+befo' us, all de same--an' it can't be long befo' our crossin'-time."
+
+"Amen!" said the woman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moon shone full upon the great river, making a shimmering path of
+light from shore to shore, when the old couple slowly rose and went to
+rest.
+
+Toward morning there was a quick gurgling sound in front of the cabin.
+Blucher caught it, and, springing out, barked at the stars. The sleepers
+within the levee hut slept on, being overweary.
+
+The watchman in the Carrollton garden heard the sound,--heard it swell
+almost to a roar,--and he ran to the new levee, reaching its summit just
+in time to see the roof of the cabin as it sank, with the entire point
+of land upon which it rested, into the greedy flood.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Harold Le Duc arrived that morning to take the old people home, the
+river came to meet him at the brim of the near bank, and its face was as
+the face of smiling innocence.
+
+While he stood awe-stricken before the awful fact so tragically
+expressed in the river's bland denial, a wet dog came, and, whining,
+crouched at his feet. He barked softly, laid his head a moment upon his
+master's boot, moaned a sort of confidential note, and, looking into the
+air, barked again, softly.
+
+Did he see more than he could tell? Was he trying to comfort his master?
+He had heard all the sweet converse of the old people on that last
+night, and perhaps he was saying in his poor best speech that all was
+well.
+
+Mammy Hannah and Uncle Israel, having discharged their responsibility,
+had crossed the River together.
+
+
+
+
+PART THIRD
+
+
+        "Oh, it 's windy,
+        Sweet Lucindy,
+    On de river-bank to-night,
+        An' de moontime
+        Beats de noontime,
+    When de trimblin' water 's white."
+
+So runs the plantation love-song, and so sang a great brown fellow as,
+with oars over his shoulder, he strolled down "Lovers' Lane," between
+the _bois d'arcs_, toward the Mississippi levee.
+
+He repeated it correctly until he neared the gourd-vine which marked the
+home of his lady, when he dropped his voice a bit and, eschewing rhyme
+for the greater value, sang:
+
+        "Oh, it 's windy,
+        Sweet Maria,
+    On de river-bank to-night--"
+
+And slackening his pace until he heard footsteps behind him, he stopped
+and waited while a lithe yellow girl overtook him languidly.
+
+"Heah, you take yo' sheer o' de load!" he laughed as he handed her one
+of the oars. "Better begin right. You tote half an' me half." And as she
+took the oar he added, "How is you to-night, anyhow, sugar-gal?"
+
+While he put his right arm around her waist, having shifted the
+remaining oar to his left side, the girl instinctively bestowed the one
+she carried over her right shoulder, so that her left arm was free for
+reciprocity, to which it naively devoted itself.
+
+"I tell yer, hit 's fine an' windy to-night, sho' enough," he said. "De
+breeze on de levee is fresh an' cool, an' de skift she's got a new
+yaller-buff frock, an' she--"
+
+"Which skift? De _Malviny_? Is you give her a fresh coat o' paint? An'
+dat's my favoryte color--yaller-buff!" This with a chuckle.
+
+"No; dey ain't no _Malviny_ skift no mo'--not on dis plantation. I done
+changed her name."
+
+"You is, is yer? What is you named her dis time?"
+
+She was preparing to express surprise in the surely expected. Of course
+the boat was renamed the _Maria_. What else, in the circumstances?
+
+"I painted her after a lady-frien's complexion, a bright, clair yaller;
+but as to de name--guess!" said the man, with a lunge toward the girl,
+as the oar he carried struck a tree--a lunge which brought him into
+position to touch her ear with his lips while he repeated: "What you
+reckon I named her, sweetenin'?"
+
+"How should I know? I ain't in yo' heart!"
+
+"You ain't, ain't yer? Ef you ain't, I'd like mighty well to know who
+is. You's a reg'lar risidenter, you is--an' you knows it, too! Guess
+along, gal. What you think de boat's named?"
+
+"Well, ef you persises for me to guess, I'll say _Silv' Ann_. Dat 's a
+purty title for a skift."
+
+"_Silv' Ann!_" contemptuously. "I 'clare, M'ria, I b'lieve you 's
+jealous-hearted. No, indeedy! I know I run 'roun' wid Silv' Ann awhile
+back, jes to pass de time, but she can't name none o' my boats! No; ef
+you won't guess, I'll tell yer--dat is, I'll give you a hint. She named
+for my best gal! _Now guess!_"
+
+"I never was no hand at guessin'." The girl laughed while she tossed her
+head. "Heah, take dis oah, man, an' lemme walk free. I ain't ingaged to
+tote no half-load _yit_--as I knows on. Lordy, but dat heavy paddle done
+put my whole arm to sleep. Ouch! boy. Hands off tell de pins an' needles
+draps out. I sho' is glad to go rowin' on de water to-night."
+
+So sure was she now of her lover, and of the honor which he tossed as a
+ball in his hands, never letting her quite see it, that she whimsically
+put away the subject.
+
+She had been to school several summers and could decipher a good many
+words, but most surely, from proud practice, she could spell her own
+name. As they presently climbed the levee together, she remarked, seeing
+the water: "Whar is de boat, anyhow--de What-you-may-call-it? She ain't
+in sight--not heah!"
+
+"No; she's a little piece up de current--in de willer-clump. I didn't
+want nobody foolin' wid 'er--an' maybe readin' off my affairs. She got
+her new intitlemint painted on her stern--every letter a different
+color, to match de way her namesake treats me--in a new light every
+day."
+
+The girl giggled foolishly. She seemed to see the contour of her own
+name, a bouquet of color reaching across the boat, and it pleased her.
+It would be a witness for her--to all who could read.
+
+"I sho' does like boats an' water," she generalized, as they walked on.
+
+"Me, too," agreed her lover; "but I likes anything--wid my chosen
+company. What is dat whizzin' past my face? Look like a honey-bee."
+
+"'T is a honey-bee. Dey comes up heah on account o' de chiny-flowers.
+But look out! Dat's another! You started 'em time you drug yo' oah in de
+mids' o' dem chiny-blossoms. Whenever de chiny-trees gits too sickenin'
+sweet, look out for de bees!"
+
+"Yas," chuckled de man; "an' dey's a lesson in dat, ef we'd study over
+it. Whenever life gits too sweet, look out for trouble! But we won't
+worry 'bout dat to-night. Is you 'feared o' stingin' bees?"
+
+"No, not whilst dey getherin' honey--dey too busy. Hit 's de idlers dat
+I shun. An' I ain't afeared o' trouble, nuther. Yit an' still, ef
+happiness is a sign, I better look sharp."
+
+"Is you so happy, my Sugar?"
+
+The girl laughed.
+
+"I don't know ef I is or not--I mus' see de name on dat skift befo' I
+can say. Take yo' han' off my wais', boy! Ef you don't I'll be 'feared
+o' stingin' bees, sho' enough! Don't make life _too_ sweet!"
+
+They were both laughing when the girl dashed ahead into the
+willow-clump, Love close at her heels, and in a moment the _Maria_, in
+her gleaming dress of yellow, darted out into the sunset.
+
+A boat or two had preceded them, and another followed presently, but it
+takes money to own a skiff, or even to build one of the driftwood, which
+is free to the captor. And so most of the couples who sought the river
+strolled for a short space, finding secluded seats on the rough-hewn
+benches between the acacia-trees or on the drift-dogs which lined the
+water's edge. It was too warm for continued walking.
+
+From some of the smaller vessels, easily recognizable as of the same
+family as the fruit-luggers which crowd around "Picayune Tier" at the
+French market, there issued sweet songs in the soft Italian tongue,
+often accompanied by the accordeon.
+
+Young Love sang on the water in half a dozen tongues, as he sings there
+yet at every summer eventide.
+
+The skiffs for the most part kept fairly close to the shore, skirting
+the strong current of the channel, avoiding, too, the large steamboats,
+whose passage ever jeopardized the small craft which crossed in their
+wake.
+
+Indeed, the passage of one of these great "packets" generally cleared
+the midstream, although a few venturesome oarsmen would often dare fate
+in riding the billows in her wake. These great steamboats were known
+among the humble river folk more for their wave-making power than for
+the proud features which distinguished them in their personal relations.
+
+There were those, for instance, who would watch for a certain great boat
+called the _Capitol_, just for the bravado of essaying the bubbling
+storm which followed her keel, while some who, enjoying their fun with
+less snap of danger, preferred to have their skiffs dance behind the
+_Laurel Hill_. Or perhaps it was the other way: it may have been the
+_Laurel Hill_, of the sphere-topped smoke-stacks, which made the more
+sensational passage.
+
+It all happened a long time ago, although only about thirteen years had
+passed since the events last related, and both boats are dead. At least
+they are out of the world of action, and let us hope they have gone to
+their rest. An old hulk stranded ashore and awaiting final dissolution
+is ever a pathetic sight, suggesting a patient paralytic in his chair,
+grimly biding fate--the waters of eternity at his feet.
+
+At intervals, this evening, fishermen alongshore--old negroes
+mostly--pottered among the rafts, setting their lines, and if the
+oarsmen listened keenly, they might almost surely have caught from these
+gentle toilers short snatches of low-pitched song, hymns mostly, of
+content or rejoicing.
+
+There was no sense of the fitness of the words when an ancient fisher
+sang "Sweet fields beyan' de swelling flood," or of humor in "How firm
+a foundation," chanted by one standing boot-deep in suspicious sands.
+The favorite hymn of several of the colored fishermen, however, seemed
+to be "Cometh our fount of every blessin'," frankly so pronounced with
+reverent piety.
+
+At a distant end of his raft, hidden from its owner by a jutting point
+from which they leaped, naked boys waded and swam, jeering the deaf
+singer as they jeered each passing boat, while occasionally an
+adventurous fellow would dive quite under a skiff, seizing his
+opportunity while the oars were lifted.
+
+None of the little rowboats carried sail as a rule, although sometimes a
+sloop would float by with an air of commanding a squadron of the sparse
+fleet which extended along the length of the river.
+
+The sun was fallen nearly to the levee-line this evening when one of the
+finest of the "river palaces" hove in sight.
+
+The sky-hour for "dousing the great glim" was so near--and the actual
+setting of the sun is always sudden--that, while daylight still
+prevailed, all the steamer's lights were lit, and although the keen sun
+which struck her as a search-light robbed her thousand lamps of their
+value, the whole scene was greater for the full illumination.
+
+The people along shore waved to the passing boat--they always do it--and
+the more amiable of the passengers answered with flying handkerchiefs.
+
+As she loomed radiant before them, an aged negro, sitting mending his
+net, remarked to his companion:
+
+"What do she look like to you, Br'er Jones?"
+
+"'What she look like to me?'" The man addressed took his pipe from his
+lips at the question. "What she look like--to me?" he repeated again.
+"Why, tell the trufe, I was jes' studyin' 'bout dat when you spoke. She
+'minds me o' Heaven; dat what she signifies to my eyes--Heavenly
+mansions. What do she look like to _you_?"
+
+"Well," the man shifted the quid in his mouth and lowered his shuttle as
+he said slowly, "well, to my observance, she don't answer for Heaven; I
+tell yer dat: not wid all dat black smoke risin' outen 'er 'bominable
+regions. She's mo' like de yether place to _me_. She may have Heavenly
+gyarments on, but she got a hell breath, sho'. An' listen at de band o'
+music playin' devil-dance time inside her! An' when she choose to let it
+out, she's got a-a-nawful snort--she sho' is!"
+
+"Does you mean de cali-ope?"
+
+"No; she ain't got no cali-ope. I means her clair whistle. Hit's got a
+jedgment-day sound in it to my ears."
+
+"Dat music you heah', dat ain't no dance-music. She plays dat for de
+passengers to eat by, so dey tell me. But I reckon dey jes p'onounces
+supper dat-a-way, same as you'd ring a bell. An' when de people sets
+down to de table, dey mus' sho'ly have de manners to stop long enough to
+let 'em eat in peace. Yit an' still, whilst she looks like Heaven, I'd a
+heap ruther set heah an' see her go by 'n to put foot in her, 'ca'se I'd
+look for her to 'splode out de minute I landed in her an' to scatter my
+body in one direction an' my soul somewhars else. No; even ef she was
+Heaven, I'd ruther 'speriment heah a little longer, settin' on de sof'
+grass an' smellin' de yearnin' trees an' listenin' at de bumblebees
+a-bumblin', an' go home an' warm up my bacon an' greens for supper, an'
+maybe go out foragin' for my Sunday chicken to-night in de dark o' de
+moon. Hyah! My stomach hit rings de dinner-bell for me, jes as good as a
+brass ban'."
+
+"Me, too!" chuckled the smoker. "I'll take my chances on dry lan', every
+time. I know I'll nuver lead a p'ocession but once-t, and dat'll be at
+my own fun'al, an' I don't inten' to resk my chances. But she is sho'
+one noble-lookin' boat."
+
+By this time the great steamboat--the wonderful apparition so aptly
+typifying Heaven and hell--had passed.
+
+She carried only the usual number of passengers, but at this evening
+hour they crowded the guards, making a brilliant showing. Family parties
+they were mostly, with here and there groups of young folk, generally
+collected about some popular girl who formed a center around which
+coquetry played mirthfully in the breeze. A piquant Arcadian bride,
+"pretty as red shoes," artlessly appearing in all her white wedding
+toggery, her veil almost crushed by its weight of artificial
+orange-flowers, looked stoically away from the little dark husband who
+persisted in fanning her vigorously, while they sat in the sun-filled
+corner which they had taken for its shade while the boat was turned into
+the landing to take them aboard. And, of course, there was the usual
+quota of staid couples who had survived this interesting stage of life's
+game.
+
+Nor was exhibition of rather intimate domesticity entirely missing.
+Infancy dined in Nature's own way, behind the doubtful screening of
+waving palmetto fans. While among the teething and whooping-cough
+contingents the observer of life might have found both tragedy and
+comedy for his delectation.
+
+Mild, submissive mothers of families, women of the Creole middle class
+mainly,--old and withered at thirty-five, all their youthful magnolia
+tints gone wrong, as in the flower when its bloom is passed--exchanged
+maternal experiences, and agreed without dissent that the world was full
+of trouble, but "God was good."
+
+Even a certain slight maternal wisp who bent over a tiny waxen thing
+upon her lap, dreading each moment to perceive the flicker in her breath
+which would show that a flame went out--even she, poor tear-dimmed soul,
+said it while she answered sympathetic inquiry:
+
+"Oh, yas; it is for her we are taking de trip. Yas, she is very sick,
+_mais God is good_. It is de eye-teet'. De river's breath it is de bes'
+medicine. De doctor he prescribe it. An' my father he had las' winter
+such a so much trouble to work his heart, an' so, seeing we were coming,
+he is also here--yas, dat's heem yonder, asleep. 'T is his most best
+sleep for a year, lying so. De river she give it. An' dose ferryboat dey
+got always on board too much whooping-cough to fasten on to eye-teet."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Somewhat apart from the other passengers, their circle loosely but
+surely defined by the irregular setting of their chairs toward a common
+center, sat a group, evidently of the great world--most conspicuous
+among them a distinguished-looking couple in fresh mid-life, who led the
+animated discussion, and who were seen often to look in the direction of
+a tall and beautiful girl who stood in the midst of a circle of young
+people within easy call. It was impossible not to see that their
+interest in the girl was vital, for they often exchanged glances when
+her laughter filled the air, and laughed with her, although they knew
+only that she had laughed.
+
+The girl stood well in sight, although "surrounded six deep" by an
+adoring crowd; nor was this attributable alone to her height which set
+her fine little head above most of her companions. A certain distinction
+of manner--unrelated to haughtiness, which may fail in effect, or
+arrogance, which may over-ride but never appeal; perhaps it was a
+graciousness of bearing--kept her admirers ever at a tasteful distance.
+
+There was an ineffable charm about the girl, a thing apart from the
+unusual beauty which marked her in any gathering of which she became a
+part.
+
+Descriptions are hazardous and available words often inadequate to the
+veracious presentment of beauty, and yet there is ever in perfection a
+challenge to the pen.
+
+As the maiden stood this evening in the sunlight, her radiant yellow
+hair complementing the blue of her sea-deep eyes, her fair cheeks
+aglow, and one color melting to another in her quick movements, the
+effect was almost like an iridescence. Tender in tints as a sea-shell,
+there might have been danger of lapse into insipidity but for the accent
+of dark rims and curled lashes which individualized the eyes, and, too,
+the strong, straight lines of her contour, which, more than the note of
+dark color, marked her a Le Duc.
+
+There are some women who naturally hold court, no matter what the
+conditions of life, and to whom tribute comes as naturally as the air
+they breathe. It often dates back into their spelling-class days, and I
+am not sure that it does not occasionally begin in the "perambulator."
+
+This magnetic quality--one hesitates to use an expression so nervously
+prostrated by strenuous overwork, and yet it is well made and to
+hand--this magnetic quality, then, was probably, in Agnes Le Duc, the
+gift of the Latin strain grafted upon New England sturdiness and
+reserve, the one answering, as one might say, for ballast, while the
+other lent sail for the equable poising of a safe and brilliant
+life-craft.
+
+So, also, was her unusual beauty markedly a composite and of elements so
+finely contrasting that their harmonizing seemed rather a succession of
+flashes, as of opposite electric currents meeting and breaking through
+the caprice of temperamental disturbance; as in the smile which won by
+its witchery, or the illumination with which rapid thought or sudden
+pity kindled her eye.
+
+Educated alternately in Louisiana where she had recited her history
+lessons in French, and in New England, the pride and pet of a charmed
+Cambridge circle, with occasional trips abroad with her "parents," she
+was emerging, all unknowingly, a rather exceptional young woman for any
+place or time.
+
+Seeing her this evening, an enthusiast might have likened her to the
+exquisite bud of a great tea-rose, regal on a slender stem--shy of
+unfolding, yet ultimately unafraid, even through the dewy veil of
+immaturity--knowing full well, though she might not stop to remember,
+the line of court roses in her pedigree.
+
+Watching her so at a safe distance, one could not help wondering that
+she thought it worth her while to listen at all, seeing how her admirers
+waited upon her every utterance. To listen well has long been considered
+a grace--just to listen; but there is a still higher art, perhaps, in
+going a step beyond. It is to listen with enthusiasm, yes, even with
+_eloquence_. One having a genius for this sort of oratory, speaking
+through the inspired utterance of another, and of course supplying the
+inspiration, gains easily the reputation of "delightful conversational
+powers."
+
+And this was precisely an unsuspected quality which made for the sweet
+girl much of the popularity which she had never analyzed or questioned.
+She _could_ talk, and in several languages, familiarly, and when the
+invitation arrived, she did--upward, with respect, to her elders (she
+had learned that both in New Orleans and in Boston); downward to her
+inferiors--with gentle directness, unmixed with over-condescension; to
+right and to left among her companions, quite as a free-hearted girl,
+with spirit and _camaraderie_.
+
+A quality, this, presaging social success certainly, and, it must be
+admitted, it is a quality which sometimes adorns natures wanting in
+depth of affection. That this was not true of Agnes Le Duc, however,
+seems to be clearly shown in an incident of this trip.
+
+As she stood with her companions this evening, while one and another
+commented upon this or that feature of the shore, they came suddenly
+upon a congregation of negroes encircling an inlet between two curves in
+the levee, and, as the low sun shone clearly into the crowd, it became
+immediately plain that a baptism was in progress.
+
+A line of women, robed in white, stood on one side; several men,
+likewise in white, on the other, while the minister, knee-deep in the
+water, was immersing a subject who shouted wildly as he went under and
+came up struggling as one in a fit, while two able-bodied men with
+difficulty bore him ashore.
+
+The scene was scarcely one to inspire reverence to a casual observer,
+and there was naturally some merriment at its expense. One playful
+comment led to another until a slashing bit of ridicule brought the
+entire ceremony into derision, and, as it happened, the remark with its
+accompanying mimicry was addressed to Agnes.
+
+"Oh, please!" she pleaded, coloring deeply. "I quite understand how it
+may affect you; but--oh, it is too serious for here--too personal and
+too sacred--"
+
+While she hesitated, the culprit, ready to crawl at her feet,--innocent,
+indeed, of the indelicacy of which he had become technically
+guilty,--begged to be forgiven. He had quite truly "meant no harm."
+
+"Oh, I am quite sure of it," the girl smiled; "but now that I have
+spoken,--and really I could not help it; I could not wish to let it
+pass, understand,--but now that I have spoken--oh, what shall I say!
+
+"Perhaps you will understand me when I tell you that I should not be
+with you here to-day but for the devoted care of two old Christian
+people who dated their joy in the spiritual life from precisely such a
+ceremony as this. They are in Heaven now.
+
+"My dear old Mammy often said that she 'went under the water groaning in
+sin, and came up shouting, a saved soul!' I seem to hear her again as I
+repeat the words, on this same river, in sight of her people and within
+the sound of their voices. I was small when she died, and I do not
+clearly remember many of her words; but this I do well recall, for we
+lived for some years on the river-bank, only a few miles from the spot
+where in her youth she had been immersed. She taught me to love the
+river, and perhaps I am a little sentimental over it. I hope always to
+be so. My father remembers many of her words. She was his nurse, too.
+She told him as a boy that she had insisted on being baptized in flowing
+water, so that her sins might be carried away to the sea. It was all
+very sacred to her."
+
+Of course the romantic story of Agnes's youth was known to every one
+present, and this unexpected allusion awakened immediate interest.
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied to a question; "I suppose I do remember a good
+deal, considering how very young I was, and yet I often wonder that I do
+not remember more, as it was all so unusual;" and then she added,
+laughing: "I seem to forget that no event could surprise a child _in her
+first experiences of life_. Yet I remember trivial things, as, for
+instance, the losing of a hat. I clearly recall our watching my hat on
+one occasion when it blew into the river, _and was never recovered_!
+Think of the tragedy of it! I can see it now, tossing like a little
+boat, as it floated away.
+
+"And the funny little cabin I remember--I know I do, for there were
+things which papa never saw, on the inside, in what he calls my
+'boudoir,' the white cabin, which I shall never forget. When anything is
+kept ever in mind by constant description, it is hard to know how much
+one really remembers. You know, papa spent only one night there and his
+thoughts were turned backward, so that he naturally kept only vague
+impressions of the place.
+
+"Yes, he has made a sketch of it from memory, and I am sorry. Why? Oh,
+because I was sure at first that it was not correct, and now it has come
+to stand to me in place of the true picture, which has faded. It is a
+way with pictures if we let them over-ride us. Why, my grandmother in
+Boston has a friend who had his wife's portrait painted after she was
+lost at sea. He spent all the money he had to have it done by a 'best
+artist who had made a hasty sketch of her in life,' and when it came
+home he did not recognize it--really thought a mistake had been made.
+Then, seeing that it _was she_ as authoritatively pictured, and that he
+had paid his all to get it, he bethought him to study it, hoping some
+day to find her in it. And so he did, gradually.
+
+"He had it hung over his smoking-table, and every evening he scrutinized
+it until its insistence conquered. For a whole year he lived in the
+companionship of an absent wife as seen in an artist's mood (this last
+sentence is a direct quotation from my Boston grandmama, who is fond of
+the story). And--well, 'what happened?' Why, _this_: One day the woman
+came home. People 'lost at sea' occasionally do, you know. And would you
+believe it? Her widower--I mean to say her husband--refused to receive
+her. _He did not know her!_ He simply pointed to the painting and shook
+his head. And if she hadn't been a person of resolution and
+resource,--descended from the _Mayflower_,--why, she would have had to
+go away. But she had her trunk brought in and quietly paid the
+expressman and took off her bonnet--_and stayed_. But it was an absurdly
+long time before her husband was wholly convinced that he was not the
+victim of an adventuress. And she says that even now he sometimes looks
+at her in a way she does not like.
+
+"So, you see, we cannot always believe our own eyes, which are so easily
+tricked.
+
+"Still, even knowing all this, we consent to be duped. Now I like the
+picture of the cabin, even while I regret it, and, _although I know
+better_, I accept it.
+
+"What is truth, anyway? That is what you hear said so often in Boston,
+where we are said to try to make pivots of it for the wheels of all our
+little hobbies.
+
+"'Do I like Boston?' _Like Boston? No. I adore it!_ Oh, yes! But yet,
+when I am there, I am a little rebel. And at each place I am quite
+honest, I assure you. You see, I have a grandmother at both places--here
+and there. Such dears, they are--adorable, both, and _so different_!
+
+"Yes, that is true. Papa's portrait, the one Mammy had in the
+cabin,--yes, we have it,--twice recovered from the river. My father
+offered a reward, and a man brought it out of the mud, a little way down
+the levee, and not seriously hurt. It is a funny little picture of papa
+at six, in a Highland costume, with his arm over a strange dog which
+belonged to the artist. He looks in the picture as if he were
+stuffed--the dog does; but papa denies that. I believe this same dog
+appeared in most of the portraits done by this man, in all of those of
+boys, at least. For the girls he supplied a cat, or occasionally a
+parrot. The bird _was_ stuffed, I believe. He did my stepmother at
+five, and she holds the cat. The portraits hang side by side now. If we
+could find him, and the parrot, he should paint me, and we would start a
+menagerie.
+
+"Oh, yes; going back to the subject, there are many little things which
+I remember, without a doubt, for I could never imagine them. For
+instance, I remember at least one of my baptisms--the last, I suppose. I
+know I was frightened because the minister shouted, and Mammy kept
+whispering to me that he wouldn't harm me; and then he suddenly threw
+water all over me and I bawled. No, I have no idea who he was; but it
+was out of doors, and there was a rooster in it someway. I suppose it
+was on the levee and the rooster came to see what was happening.
+
+"There is a picture which always reminds me of the time we lived behind
+the woodpiles, that called 'The Soldier's Dream,' in which a poor
+fellow, asleep on the battle-field, sees dimly, as in the sky, a meeting
+between himself and his family.
+
+"I am sure that while we sat on the levee and Mammy talked to me of
+papa's coming, I used to picture it all against the sunset sky. Just
+look at it now. Was anything ever more gorgeous and at the same time so
+tender? One could easily imagine almost any miracle's happening over
+there in the west.
+
+"Yes, I know the skies of Italy, and they're no better. They are bluer
+and pinker, perhaps, in a more paintable way; but when the sun sets
+across the Mississippi, especially when we have their dreamy cloud
+effects, it goes down with variation and splendor unmatched anywhere, I
+do believe. But," she added with a Frenchy shrug, "you know I am only a
+river child, and everything belonging to the old muddy stream is dear to
+me.
+
+"I beg your pardon--what did you ask?" This to a very young man who
+colored after he had spoken. "Did we ever recover--? Oh, no. Their
+bodies went with the waters they loved--and it was better so. Certainly,
+papa used every effort. I hope the current carried them to the sea. She
+would have liked to have it so, I am sure, dear, dear Mammy Hannah!
+
+"Oh, yes. The little monument on Brake Island is only 'in memory,' as
+its inscription says."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+This was rather thoughtful talk for a girl scarcely eighteen, but Agnes
+had ever been thoughtful, and by common inheritance--from her mother and
+her father.
+
+As the scene shifted, and conversation passed to lighter things, and her
+laughter rippled again as a child's, its range was sometimes startling.
+It was as brilliant as a waterfall seen in the sun, and often while her
+fond father watched her, as now, he wondered if, perchance, her laughter
+might not be prophetic of a great career for which eyes less devoted
+than his perceived her eminently fitted.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is beyond the province of this tale of the river to follow Agnes Le
+Duc through life. Some day, possibly, her story may be fully told; but
+perhaps a foreshadowing of her future, in one phase of it at least, may
+be discerned in an intimation let fall by one of the passengers who sat
+with his companions at a card-table in the fore cabin. At least, they
+had spent the day there, stopping not even for dinner, and now they were
+moving away. As they found seats out on the guards, he was saying:
+
+"'_Rich!_' Well, I would say so! He own all doze plantation around de
+town of Waterproof, and de strange part is _he paid twice for some of
+dem_! Of co'se he could not do such a so-foolish t'ing except he made
+dat _in_vention. W'en you _be_gin to collec' so much on every one of
+anyt'ing dat fill a want, _you get rich, sure_!
+
+"No matter if it jus' _one picayune_--w'en dey sell enough. Dey say you
+can make sugar so quick by dat _mach_ine he _in_vent--it is like
+conjuring--a sort of hoodoo!"
+
+"Yes," said his companion, an American, "so I understand; and there is
+no man I would rather see rich than Harold Le Duc. His marriage, so soon
+after the recovery of his child, surprised some of us, but no doubt it
+was a good thing."
+
+"A good t'ing! It was _magnificent_! If he is one of de finest men in
+Louisiana, she is equal to him. Dat remark dat he married only for a
+mudder for his child--dat's all in my heye! I am sure he was in love to
+her one year, maybe two, _be_fo' dat--_mais_, I am not sure he would
+have asked any woman to marry him. He had not de courage. For him love
+was past--and he was afraid of it. _Mais_ de chil' she wake him up
+again! Oh, it is a good t'ing, _sure_! An' de strange part, she t'ought
+she wou'n' never love again, jus' de same as him--until--"
+
+"Until what?"
+
+"Well, _until he spoke_! Until w'at you t'ink?"
+
+"Not'ing. I t'ought _maybe_ it was somet'ing unusual."
+
+"Well, an' is dat not somet'ing unusual--w'en a widow is _sure_ she will
+not love again? Dey often _t'ink_ so, _mais_ she was _absolutely sure_!
+You see, her first husband he was one hero; he fell on de same
+battle-field wid gallant 'Jeb' Stuart--from a stray shot w'en de
+fighting was over, carrying dat poor _imbecile_, Philippe Delmaire, off
+de fiel', biccause he was yelling so, wid dat one li'l' toe he los'! A
+good fellow, yas, _mais no account_! Yas, he drank himself to deat', all
+on account for de loss of dat toe, so he say. Excuses dey are cheap,
+yas. If it was not his toe it would have been somet'ing else. You know,
+his figure, it was really perfection, no _mis_take, an' to lose
+perfection, even in so small a matter as one toe--it prey on his mind.
+Tell de trut', I used to feel sorry for him, an'--an'--w'en he always
+would touch his glass an' drink dat favorite toast, 'To my big toe!'
+well, dere was somet'ing pitiful in it. I used to drink it wid him. It
+was no harm, an' he had always good wine, poor fellow. _Mais to t'ink of
+Paul de La Rose dying for him!_ It make me mad, yet w'en I t'ink so, I
+am almos' sorry to reflect I have drunk to his toe! Bah--a valu'ble
+man--to die like dat! Wat you say? Yas, da's true. It makes not _how_ de
+soldier fall--de glory is de same. Well, any'ow, if he could have picked
+out a successor, he could not have done better dan yo'ng Le Duc--sure!
+W'at you say? '_'Ow_ is he bought doze plantation twice?' Well, dis way:
+W'en he had to take dem on mortgage, an' dey were sold at de door of de
+court-house--bidding against him, understand--no rainy-day sale--he paid
+_double_--I mean to say he paid so much as de mortagage _again_. Not in
+every case, _mais_ in many--to widows. I know two cousin of mine, he
+paid dem so. I ricollec' dey tol' me dat he was de mos' remembering man
+to look out for dem, an' de mos' forgetting to sen' de bills.
+
+"Oh, yas. An' his daughter, dey say she is in love to her
+stepmother--an' she is jus' so foolish about de chil'--an' wid good
+reason. She had never children--an' she is proud for dat daughter, an'
+jealous, too, of dose Yankee _ril_lation. Still, she _in_vite dem to
+come every year, so the chil' can stay--an' now, would you believe it?
+Dey are come to be great friends, _mais_, of co'se, her father sends her
+every year at Boston to her grandmother. Dey all want her, an' no
+wonder. If she was one mud fence, I suppose it would be all de same,
+_mais_ you know, she is _one great beauty_! I say one gr-r-r-reat
+beauty! Wh! An'w'en I whistle so 'wh!' I mean w'at I say. You see me so,
+I am one ol' man, now--pas' forty--an' rich in children, an' not
+bad-looking children, neither; _mais_ I would walk, me, all de way from
+de barracks up to Bouligny, _an' back_, just to see her pass in de
+street an' smile on me. You take my word, _if_ she is not snapped up by
+some school-boy, she can marry _anyt'ing_--_a coronet_! An' I know
+somet'ing about women--not to brag."
+
+"If you are so anxious to see dat young lady, Felix," said another, "you
+don't need to walk so far. She is, at dis moment, wid her father an' her
+stepmudder, on dis trip."
+
+"_W'at_! w'at you say? Well, wait. I di'n' inten', me, to dress
+for de ladies' cabin to-night, _mais_ w'en I have my supper I will
+put on my Sunday t'ings--jus' to go an' sit down in de cabin
+w'ere--I--can--look--at _innocent_--_beauty_! It pleasure me, yas, to
+see some t'ing like dat. May_be_ I am not all good, _mais_ I am not all
+given over for bad so long I can enjoy a rose-vine all in pink, or a
+fair yo'ng girl more beautiful yet.
+
+"I tell you, my friends, I was sitting, week before las', at my 'ouse on
+Esplanade Street, on de back gallerie, w'ere de vines is t'ick, an' dey
+were, as you might say, honey-suckling de bees--an' de perfume from my
+night-bloomin' jasmine filled my nose. It was in de evening, an' de moon
+on de blue sky was like a map of de city, jus' a silver crescent, an'
+close by, one li'l' star, shining, as de children say, 'like a diamond
+in de sky,' an' I tell you--I tell you--
+
+"Well, I tell you, _I wished I had been a good man all my life_!"
+
+His friends laughed gaily at this.
+
+"You don' say!" laughed one. "Well, you fooled us, any'ow! I was holding
+my breat'. I t'ought somet'ing was getting ready to happen!"
+
+"Well--an' ain't dat somet'ing?--w'en a hard ol' sinner like me can see
+in nature a t'ing sweet an' good an'--_an' resolute himself_!"
+
+"Sure, dat is a great happening; _mais_ for such a _be_ginning, so
+dramatic, we expected to see Hamlet--or maybe his father's ghost--or
+_somet'ing_!"
+
+"I am thinking more of this exceptional beauty"--it was the American who
+interrupted now--"I am more interested in her than in the confessions of
+old sinners like ourselves. I am rather practical, and beauty is only
+skin-deep--sometimes at least. I should like to take a peep at this rare
+product of our State. Louisiana's record up to date is hard to beat, in
+this respect."
+
+"Well," slowly remarked the man known throughout as Felix, "I am not
+telling! If I _knew_, I could not _tell_, and, of co'se, it is all
+guess-work, _mais_ you may believe me or not--" he lowered his voice,
+suggesting mystery. "I say you can _rif_fuse to believe me or not, I
+was--well, I was not long ago, one day, sitting at de table down at
+Leon's,--eating an oyster wid a friend of mine, and, looking out of de
+window, I happened to see, sitting in a tree, _one li'l' bird_--jus' one
+small li'l' bird, no bigger dan yo' t'umb.
+
+"I was not t'inking about de bird, mind you. We were jus' talking about
+anyt'ing in partic'lar--I mean to say not'ing in general. _W'at_ is de
+matter wid me to-day? I cannot talk straight--my tongue is all twis'. I
+say we were speaking of partic'lar t'ings in general, an' he remarked to
+me, '_Who you t'ink will be de Queen of de Carnival dis coming Mardi
+Gras?_'
+
+"I was pouring a glass of Chateau Yquem at de time,--to look after de
+oysters,--an' I di'n' pay so much attention to w'at he was saying--I can
+never pour a glass an' speak at de same time. I spill my words or de
+wine, sure. So it happened dat w'en I put me de bottle down, my eye
+passed out de window. Oh, hush! No, not my eye, of co'se--I mean my
+sight. Well, dat li'l' bird it was still waiting in the same place, in
+de magnolia-tree, an' w'en I looked, it give me one glance, sideways,
+like a finger on de nose, an' it opened wide its bill, an' just so plain
+as I am speaking now, _it spoke a name_." This in still lower voice.
+
+"But I said nothing, immediately. A little wine, for a few glasses, it
+make me prudent--_up to a certain point_, of co'se. _Mais_, direc'ly, I
+looked at my friend, an' wid w'at you might call an air of
+_nonchalance_, I repeat to him de name _ex_ac'ly as it was tol' to me by
+de li'l' bird in de magnolia-tree. An' wa't you t'ink he said?"
+
+"Oh, go on. W'at he say?"
+
+"You want to know w'at he said? Well, dat I can tell you. He was greatly
+astonish', an' he whispered to me, '_Who tol' you? You are not in de
+Pickwick?_'"
+
+"Oh, a little bird tol' me!" I answered him. "_No, I am not in de
+club._"
+
+"_But the name? Do tell us!_"
+
+"Oh, no. I cannot. If I _told_, dat would be _telling_, eh?"
+
+"Sure! It is not necessary," said another. "Well, I am pleased, me."
+
+"_An'_ me!"
+
+"I like always to listen w'en you tell somet'ing, Felix. Your story is
+all right--an' _I believe you_. I always believe any man in de Pickwick
+Club--_on some subjects_! _Mais_, ol' man, de nex' time you make a story
+at Leon's restaurant, suppose you move off dat magnolia-tree. A bird
+could stand on de window-sill across de street jus' as well--a real
+window-sill."
+
+"T'ank you. I am sure a _real_ somet'ing-to-stand-on would be better for
+_a real bird_. _Mais_, for dis particular bird, I t'ink my magnolia is
+more suitable. Don't forget de story of de Mongoose!"
+
+"Nobody can get ahead of you, Felix. Well, it is a good t'ing. It is
+true, her fodder was de King at las' year's Carnival--an' it is
+lightning striking twice in de same place; an' yet--"
+
+"And yet," the American interrupted, "and yet it will sometimes strike
+twice in the same place--if the attraction is sufficient. I have a
+friend who has a summer home in the Tennessee mountains which was twice
+struck--three times, nearly. That is the house next door got it the
+third time. And then they began to investigate, and they found the
+mountain full of iron--iron convertible into gold."
+
+"Well, and our man of iron, let us hope he may prove always an
+attraction--for bolts of good fortune!"
+
+"A wish that may come true; if reports be correct, he is rapidly turning
+into gold," said the American. "I am told that he has found salt in
+immense deposits on his island--and that he has resumed the work begun
+just before the war--that of opening up the place."
+
+"Oh, yas. 'Tis true. Over a hundred t'ousand dollars he has already put
+in--an' as much more ready to drop. _Mais_ it is _fairyland_! An' me,
+_I_ was t'inking too--sometimes I t'ink a little myself--I was t'inking
+dat if--I say _if_ sometime his daughter would be de Comus Queen, not
+insinuating anything, you know--no allusion to de bird--w'at a fine
+house-party dey could have _now_, eh? Dey could invite de royal party,
+maids of honor, and so fort'--whoever is rich enough to lose so much
+time--
+
+"T'ink of sailing up de new canal on de barge--"
+
+"An' under de bridge--"
+
+"No, not de bridge. He will never touch dat. He has made a new plan,
+entering another way. Dat span of de bridge he commenced--it is standing
+beside de beautiful w'ite marble tomb--to hold his family. His wife she
+is dere, an' de ol' negroes w'at care for his chil'--dey are laying in
+one corner, wid also a small monument."
+
+"Are you _sure_ dey are dere?"
+
+"I have seen de monument, I tell you."
+
+"Well, Harold he was always sentimental, if you will. I suppose dat
+broken bridge is, as he says--it is history, and he needs to keep it
+before him, not to be too rash. Maybe so. Who can tell? Two boys in de
+war, it was enough--if he had stopped to t'ink."
+
+"Yas--_mais_ de barge, de Cleopatra; dey say she is be'-u-tiful!"
+
+"Cleopatra! For w'at he di'n' name her somet'ing sensible?"
+
+"Dat is not only sensible--it is diplomatic. You know, w'en a man has
+only a daughter and a step-wife--_w'at_ is de matter wid me to-night?
+You understand me. I say, in--well, in some cases, to _dis_criminate,
+it is enough to drive a man to--"
+
+"Oh, don't say dat, Felix."
+
+"Let me _finish_, will you? I say it is one of dose _in_delicate
+situations dat drive a man to _dodge_! An' w'en he can dodge into
+history and romance at once, so much de better! An' _Cleopatra_, it
+sound well for a barge. An' so, really, _if_ de beautiful daughter
+_should_ be de queen an' dey could arrange one house-party--"
+
+"Suppose, Felix, ol' man, you would bring out yo' magnolia-tree once
+more, you don't t'ink de li'l' bird would come again an' stan' on one
+limb an' may_be_--"
+
+"Ah, no. I am sure not. If dey had a grain of salt in dat story, I would
+try. I would put it on his tail. _Mais_, how can you catch a bird widout
+salt?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So idly, playfully, the talk rippled on, ever insensibly flavored with
+rich romance of life, even as the fitful breeze skirting the shores
+held, in shy suspension, an occasional hint of orange-blossoms or of
+the Cuban fruits which, heaping the luggers in the slanting sun, laid
+their gay bouquets of color against the river's breast.
+
+It is many years since the maid Agnes Le Duc, on her way to coronation
+at the carnival, stood while the sun went down in all her vestal beauty
+on deck of the _Laurel Hill_, and smiled through tears of tenderness at
+life as half revealed to her.
+
+Many things are changed since then, and yet the great river flows on,
+all unheeding.
+
+Laden to their guards, so that their weighty cargoes of cotton and
+sugar, traveling to mill and to market, are wet with the spray of
+playful condescension, panting ships of commerce, some flying foreign
+colors, still salute each other in passing, with ever a word of
+solicitude as to milady's health.
+
+Old Lady Mississippi, is she high or low in spirits? And will her hand
+of benediction turn to smite and to despoil?
+
+But, whether she be obdurate or kindly, hysterical or melancholy, or so
+serene as to invite the heavens, life and love and song are hers.
+
+Uniting while she seems to divide, bringing together whom she appears to
+separate, a raft of logs contributed by her grace affording free passage
+the length of her realm to whoever will take it, paying no toll, she
+invites Romance to set sail under the stars in primal simplicity,
+eschewing the "bridal chambers" of white and gold which lie in the
+hearts of all the busy steamers, no matter how otherwise prosaic their
+personalities.
+
+And still, afloat and alongshore, astride a molasses-barrel or throwing
+dice between the cotton-bales, taking no thought of the morrow, the
+negro sings:
+
+    "Cometh our fount of every blessing!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The River's Children, by Ruth McEnery Stuart
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIVER'S CHILDREN ***
+
+***** This file should be named 34416.txt or 34416.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/4/1/34416/
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/34416.zip b/34416.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..91fea06
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34416.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5dd323
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #34416 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/34416)