nel, in a low tone, 'I _did_ look after her. I
put her at full field-work myself.'

'By--!' cried the native, reining his horse to a dead stop, and speaking
in an excited manner; 'I doan't b'lieve it, 'taint 't all like ye; yer a
d--d seceshener--thet comes uv yer bringin'-up; but ye've a soul
bigger'n a meetin'-house, and ye cudn't hev put thet slim, weakly gal
inter th' woods, no how!'

The Colonel and I instinctively halted our horses, as the 'corn-cracker'
stopped his.

'It is true, Barnes,' said my host, in a low voice, 'I _did_ do it!'

'May God Almighty furgive ye, Cunnel,' said the native, starting his
horse forward, '_I_ wudn't hev dun it fur all yer niggers, by----.'

The Colonel made no reply, and we rode on the rest of the way in
silence.

The corn-cracker's house--a low, unpainted, wooden building--stood near
the little stream, and in the centre of a cleared plot of some ten
acres. This plot was surrounded by a post and rail fence, and in its
front portion was a garden, which grew a sufficient supply of vegetables
to serve a family of twenty persons. In the rear, and at the sides of
the dwelling, were about seven acres, devoted mainly to corn and
potatoes. In one corner of the lot were three tidy-looking negro-houses,
and close beside them I noticed a low shed, near which a large quantity
of the stalks of the tall, white corn, common to that section, was
stacked in the New-England fashion. Browsing on the corn-stalks were
three sleek, well-kept milch-cows and a goat.

About four hundred yards from the farmer's house, and on the bank of the
little run, which there was quite wide and deep, stood a
turpentine-distillery, and around it were scattered a large number of
rosin and turpentine barrels, some filled and some empty. A short
distance higher up, and far enough from the 'still' to be safe in the
event of a fire, was a long, low, wooden shed, covered with rough,
unjointed boards, placed upright, and unbattened. This was the
'spirit-house,' used for the storage of the spirits of turpentine when
barreled for market, and awaiting shipment. In the creek, and filling
nearly one-half of the channel in front of the spirit-shed, was a raft
of pine-timber, on which were laden some two hundred barrels of rosin.
On such rude conveyances the turpentine-maker sent his produce to
Conwayboro. There the timber-raft was sold to my wayside friend, Captain
B--, and its freight shipped on board vessel for New-York.