tworthy."

"Yas, suh," replied Julius, with a deep sigh and a long shake of the
head, "I knows he ain' much account, en dey ain' much 'pen'ence ter be
put on 'im. But I wuz hopin' dat you mought make some 'lowance fuh a'
ign'ant young nigger, suh, en gib 'im one mo' chance."

But I had hardened my heart. I had always been too easily imposed upon,
and had suffered too much from this weakness. I determined to be firm as
a rock in this instance.

"No, Julius," I rejoined decidedly, "it is impossible. I gave him more
than a fair trial, and he simply won't do."

When my wife and I set out for our drive in the cool of the
evening,--afternoon is "evening" in Southern parlance,--one of the
servants put into the rock-away two large earthenware jugs. Our drive
was to be down through the swamp to the mineral spring at the foot of
the sand-hills beyond. The water of this spring was strongly
impregnated with sulphur and iron, and, while not particularly agreeable
of smell or taste, was used by us, in moderation, for sanitary reasons.

When we reached the spring, we found a man engaged in cleaning it out.
In answer to an inquiry he said that if we would wait five or ten
minutes, his task would be finished and the spring in such condition
that we could fill our jugs. We might have driven on, and come back by
way of the spring, but there was a bad stretch of road beyond, and we
concluded to remain where we were until the spring should be ready. We
were in a cool and shady place. It was often necessary to wait awhile in
North Carolina; and our Northern energy had not been entirely proof
against the influences of climate and local custom.

While we sat there, a man came suddenly around a turn of the road ahead
of us. I recognized in him a neighbor with whom I had exchanged formal
calls. He was driving a horse, apparently a high-spirited creature,
possessing, so far as I could see at a glance, the marks of good temper
and good breeding; the gentleman, I had heard it suggested, was slightly
deficient in both. The horse was rearing and plunging, and the man was
beating him furiously with a buggy-whip. When he saw us, he flushed a
fiery red, and, as he passed, held the reins with one hand, at some risk
to his safety, lifted his hat, and bowed somewhat constrainedly as the
horse darted by us, still panting and snorting with fear.

"He looks as though he were ashamed of himself," I observed.

"I'm sure he ought to be," exclaimed my wif