ing that one who did not know would infer that he valued his
horses more than his slaves.

'That may be true,' he replied, laughing. 'Two of my horses here are
worth more than any eight of my slaves;' at the same time calling my
attention to two magnificent thorough-breds, one of which had made
'2.32' on the Charleston course. The establishment of a Southern
gentleman is not complete until it includes one or two of these useless
appendages. I had an argument with my host as to their value compared
with that of the steam-engine, in which I forced him to admit that the
iron horse is the better of the two, because it performs more work, eats
less, has greater speed, and is not liable to the spavin or the heaves;
but he wound up by saying, 'After all, I go for the thorough-breds. You
Yankees have but one test of value--use.'

A ramble through the negro-quarters, which followed our visit to the
stables, gave me some further glimpses of plantation life. Many of the
hands were still away in pursuit of Moye, but enough remained to make it
evident that Sunday is the happiest day in the darky calendar. Groups of
all ages and colors were gathered in front of several of the cabins,
some singing, some dancing, and others chatting quietly together, but
all enjoying themselves as heartily as so many young animals let loose,
in a pasture. They saluted the Colonel and me respectfully, but each one
had a free, good-natured word for 'Massa Tommy,' who seemed an especial
favorite with them. The lad took their greetings in good part, but
preserved an easy, unconscious dignity of manner that plainly showed he
did not know that _he_ too was of their despised, degraded race.

The Colonel, in a rapid way, gave me the character and peculiarities of
nearly every one we met. The titles of some of them amused me greatly.
At every step we encountered individuals whose names have become
household words in every civilized country.[L] Julius Caesar, slightly
stouter than when he swam the Tiber, and somewhat tanned from long
exposure to a Southern sun, was seated on a wood-pile, quietly smoking a
pipe; while near him, Washington, divested of regimentals, and clad in a
modest suit of reddish-gray, his thin locks frosted by time, and his
fleshless visage showing great age, was gazing, in rapt admiration, at a
group of dancers in front of old Lucy's cabin.

In this group about thirty men and women were making the ground quake
and the woods ring with the