preciation of the helplessness of the Negroes, and of their proper
relations to the whites.

"What'll you do with him, Colonel?" asked one gentleman. "An ole
nigger like Peter couldn't live in the col' No'th. You'll have to buy
a place down here to keep 'im. They wouldn' let you own a nigger at
the No'th."

The remark, with the genial laugh accompanying it, was sounding in the
colonel's ears, as, on the way back to the hotel, he stepped into the
barber shop. The barber, who had also heard the story, was bursting
with a desire to unbosom himself upon the subject. Knowing from
experience that white gentlemen, in their intercourse with coloured
people, were apt to be, in the local phrase; "sometimey," or uncertain
in their moods, he first tested, with a few remarks about the weather,
the colonel's amiability, and finding him approachable, proved quite
talkative and confidential.

"You're Colonel French, ain't you, suh?" he asked as he began applying
the lather.

"Yes."

"Yes, suh; I had heard you wuz in town, an' I wuz hopin' you would
come in to get shaved. An' w'en I heard 'bout yo' noble conduc' this
mawnin' at Squire Reddick's I wanted you to come in all de mo', suh.
Ole Uncle Peter has had a lot er bad luck in his day, but he has fell
on his feet dis time, suh, sho's you bawn. I'm right glad to see you,
suh. I feels closer to you, suh, than I does to mos' white folks,
because you know, colonel, I'm livin' in the same house you wuz bawn
in."

"Oh, you are the Nichols, are you, who bought our old place?"

"Yes, suh, William Nichols, at yo' service, suh. I've own' de ole
house fer twenty yeahs or mo' now, suh, an' we've b'en mighty
comfo'table in it, suh. They is a spaciousness, an' a air of elegant
sufficiency about the environs and the equipments of the ed'fice, suh,
that does credit to the tas'e of the old aristocracy an' of you-all's
family, an' teches me in a sof' spot. For I loves the aristocracy; an'
I've often tol' my ol' lady, 'Liza,' says I, 'ef I'd be'n bawn white I
sho' would 'a' be'n a 'ristocrat. I feels it in my bones.'"

While the barber babbled on with his shrewd flattery, which was
sincere enough to carry a reasonable amount of conviction, the colonel
listened with curiously mingled feelings. He recalled each plank, each
pane of glass, every inch of wall, in the old house. No spot was
without its associations. How many a brilliant scene of gaiety had
taken place in the spacious parlour where