hat hour?"

"Six-thirty," the Colonel replied, "we keep early hours in the country.
By the way," he added, "have you heard anything of this peonage business
here this morning?"

"No, sir," the boy answered, "I started out with my schedules bright and
early."

"I purpose to hold an inquiry after lunch," the planter continued. "You
are lunching at Ephraim's of course?"

"Yes, Colonel Egerius," the boy answered.

"Very well," was the reply, "we will lunch together if you have no
objection. Since I heard of your expected arrival I have been looking
forward to your visit. Now that you are here, sir, we must make the most
of you. Allow me to present my son Percy."

Hamilton made a suitable reply, and consulting his watch found that it
was almost lunch time.

"I will join you in half an hour, Colonel Egerius," he said, "and shall
look forward to the evening with great pleasure."

"You play a good knife and fork, I trust," said the old gentleman,
smiling, as he gathered up the reins.

"Almost good enough to do justice even to Southern hospitality,"
answered Hamilton with a smile. The old soldier nodded approvingly.
"Remember now," he said, as he rode away, "we'll hold you to your word."

At lunch Hamilton took occasion to remark on the well-being of
Bullertown.

"I was surprised," he said, "to find a village so well managed and
looked after, and all by negroes."

"There's nothing surprising in that," the Colonel answered. "How could
they do anything different? I have shown them every step they were to
take; all that they had to do was to continue."

"You mean they couldn't have done it by themselves?"

"The negro never has done anything by himself," the old Confederate
replied. "He has lived as far back as time goes in one of the most
fertile and well-watered countries of the world,--Africa--and he never
had enough initiative to rise out of tribal conditions."

"But he seems to be doing all right now," suggested Hamilton. "I hear
the negro is getting to own quite a share of the cotton crop."

"He has not done so well as appearances would show," the soldier
replied; "he has learned a few--only a few--of the tricks of modern
civilization, and those only outwardly. The few cases of leadership such
as that of Booker T. Washington, for instance, are due to the white
strain, not the negro."

"I thought Booker T. Washington was a pure negro!" exclaimed Hamilton.

"He is not," was the emphatic reply. "In his own