s what suggested the well-known
'white-nigger' dance and song of Lucy Long. Other performances
succeeded, and the whole formed a scene impossible to describe. Such
uproarious jollity, such full and perfect enjoyment, I had never seen in
humanity, black or white. The little nigs, only four or five years old,
would rush into the ring and shuffle away at the breakdowns till I
feared their short legs would come off; while all the darkies joined in
the songs, till the branches of the old pines above shook as if they too
had caught the spirit of the music. In the midst of it, the Colonel said
to me, in an exultant tone,--

'Well, my friend, what do you think of slavery _now_?'

'About the same that I thought yesterday. I see nothing to change my
views.'

'Why, are not these people happy? Is not this perfect enjoyment?'

'Yes; just the same enjoyment that aunty's pigs are having; don't you
hear them singing to the music? I'll wager they are the happier of the
two.'

'No; you are wrong. The higher faculties of the darkies are being
brought out here.'

'I don't know that,' I replied. 'Within the sound of their voices, two
of their fellows--victims to the inhumanity of slavery--are lying dead,
and yet they make _Sunday_ 'hideous' with wild jollity, while they do
not know but Sam's fate may be theirs to-morrow.'

Spite of his genuine courtesy and high breeding, a shade of displeasure
passed over the Colonel's face as I made this remark. Rising to go, he
said, a little impatiently, 'Ah, I see how it is; that d---- Garrison's
sentiments have impregnated even you. How can the North and the South
hold together when even moderate men like you and me are so far apart?'

'But you,' I rejoined, good-humoredly, 'are not a moderate man. You and
Garrison are of the same stripe, both extremists. You have mounted one
hobby, _he_ another; that is all the difference.'

'I should be sorry,' he replied, recovering his good-nature, 'to think
myself like Garrison. I consider him the ---- scoundrel unhung.'

'No; I think he means well. But you are both fanatics, both 'bricks' of
the same material; we conservatives, like mortar, will hold you together
and yet keep you apart.'

'I, for one, _won't_ be held. If I can't get out of this cursed Union in
any other way, I'll emigrate to Cuba.'

I laughed, and just then, looking up, caught a glimpse of Jim, who
stood, hat in hand, waiting to speak to the Colonel, but not daring to
interrupt a w