rs of the bayou.

Dandy, as we have before remarked, was a youth of quick parts, and under
the scientific instruction of Mr. Midshipman Raybone, he had thoroughly
mastered the art of boating, not only in its application to row boats,
but also in reference to sailing craft; and there was no person on the
place more skilful in the management of the schooner than the
body-servant of Master Archy.

The Edith flew on her course, frightening from their repose the herons
and the alligators that were enjoying the sunshine of the bright spring
morning. Master Archy did speak sometimes, but this morning he was
unusually taciturn. He seemed to be brooding over something: those who
did not know him might have supposed that he was thinking; but the son
and heir of Redlawn did not often give himself up to meditation in its
higher sense. It was more likely that he was wondering what he should do
next, for time hung heavy on his hands. He had nothing to do but amuse
himself, and he had completely exhausted his slender ingenuity in
devising new amusements.

"Stop her," said he, languidly, after the boat had gone about two miles.

Dandy obeyed the order without a question, and the Edith soon floated
listlessly on the water, waiting the pleasure of her magnificent owner.

"Back to the pier," added Archy; and under the orders of her skilful
coxswain, she was put about, and darted up the river on her return.

The shining ebony face of the great Athenian philosopher's namesake
looked glum and discontented. He was not satisfied with the order; but
not being a free agent, he was cruelly deprived of the luxury of
grumbling. Roaming in the cane-brake, or sunning himself on a log like
the juvenile alligators, while Master Archy took his walk, or even
pulling the boat, was much more to his taste than rubbing down the
horses and digging weeds out of the gravel walks in front of the
mansion. The order to return, therefore, was a grievous disappointment
to him; for the head gardener or the head groom would be sure to find a
job for him that would last all day.

Master Archy did not know his own mind; and he did not have the same
mind for a great while at a time. Cyd supposed he had thought of
something that would please him better on the estate. No doubt if the
surfeited young devotee of pleasure had permitted his dark companions to
think for him, they might have invented a new pleasure; but he seldom
spoke to them, and they were not allowed t