to rely upon, I felt sure that I could introduce and cultivate
successfully a number of other varieties.

One day I went over with my wife, to show her the place. We drove
between the decayed gate-posts--the gate itself had long since
disappeared--and up the straight, sandy lane to the open space where a
dwelling-house had once stood. But the house had fallen a victim to the
fortunes of war, and nothing remained of it except the brick pillars
upon which the sills had rested. We alighted, and walked about the place
for a while; but on Annie's complaining of weariness I led the way back
to the yard, where a pine log, lying under a spreading elm, formed a
shady though somewhat hard seat. One end of the log was already occupied
by a venerable-looking colored man. He held on his knees a hat full of
grapes, over which he was smacking his lips with great gusto, and a pile
of grape-skins near him indicated that the performance was no new thing.
He respectfully rose as we approached, and was moving away, when I
begged him to keep his seat.

"Don't let us disturb you," I said. "There's plenty of room for us all."

He resumed his seat with somewhat of embarrassment.

"Do you live around here?" I asked, anxious to put him at his ease.

"Yas, suh. I lives des ober yander, behine de nex' san'-hill, on de
Lumberton plank-road."

"Do you know anything about the time when this vineyard was cultivated?"

"Lawd bless yer, suh, I knows all about it. Dey ain' na'er a man in dis
settlement w'at won' tell yer ole Julius McAdoo 'uz bawn an' raise' on
dis yer same plantation. Is you de Norv'n gemman w'at's gwine ter buy de
ole vimya'd?"

"I am looking at it," I replied; "but I don't know that I shall care to
buy unless I can be reasonably sure of making something out of it."

"Well, suh, you is a stranger ter me, en I is a stranger ter you, en we
is bofe strangers ter one anudder, but 'f I 'uz in yo' place, I wouldn'
buy dis vimya'd."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, I dunner whe'r you b'lieves in cunj'in er not,--some er de w'ite
folks don't, er says dey don't,--but de truf er de matter is dat dis yer
ole vimya'd is goophered."

"Is what?" I asked, not grasping the meaning of this unfamiliar word.

"Is goophered, cunju'd, bewitch'."

He imparted this information with such solemn earnestness, and with such
an air of confidential mystery, that I felt somewhat interested, while
Annie was evidently much impressed, and drew closer to me