appier."

"Yas, suh! yas, suh! 'Deed dem wuz good ole times! Sho' dey wuz, suh,
sho' dey wuz! 'Member dem co'n-stalk fiddles we use' ter make, an' dem
elderberry-wood whistles?"

"Yes, Peter, and the robins we used to shoot and the rabbits we used
to trap?"

"An' dem watermillions, suh--um-m-m, um-m-m-m!"

"_Y-e-s_," returned the colonel, with a shade of pensiveness. There
had been two sides to the watermelon question. Peter and he had not
always been able to find ripe watermelons, early in the season, and at
times there had been painful consequences, the memory of which came
back to the colonel with surprising ease. Nor had they always been
careful about boundaries in those early days. There had been one
occasion when an irate neighbour had complained, and Major French had
thrashed Henry and Peter both--Peter because he was older, and knew
better, and Henry because it was important that he should have
impressed upon him, early in life, that of him to whom much is given,
much will be required, and that what might be lightly regarded in
Peter's case would be a serious offence in his future master's. The
lesson had been well learned, for throughout the course of his life
the colonel had never shirked responsibility, but had made the
performance of duty his criterion of conduct. To him the line of least
resistance had always seemed the refuge of the coward and the
weakling. With the twenty years preceding his return to Clarendon,
this story has nothing to do; but upon the quiet background of his
business career he had lived an active intellectual and emotional
life, and had developed into one of those rare natures of whom it may
be truly said that they are men, and that they count nothing of what
is human foreign to themselves.

But the serenity of Peter's retrospect was unmarred by any passing
cloud. Those who dwell in darkness find it easier to remember the
bright places in their lives.

"Yas, suh, yas, suh, dem watermillions," he repeated with unction, "I
kin tas'e 'em now! Dey wuz de be's watermillions dat evuh growed,
suh--dey doan raise none lack 'em dese days no mo'. An' den dem
chinquapin bushes down by de swamp! 'Member dem chinquapin bushes,
whar we killt dat water moccasin dat day? He wuz 'bout ten foot
long!"

"Yes, Peter, he was a whopper! Then there were the bullace vines, in
the woods beyond the tanyard!"

"Sho' 'nuff, suh! an' de minnows we use' ter ketch in de creek, an'
dem perch in de mill po