market place replenished his furniture vans. The farm produce alone
yielded six or seven thousands a year, while the plantation crops of
cotton, sugar, and rice were clear profit. Rows of white cabins were the
homes of the colored citizens of the community. An infirmary stood apart
for the sick. The old grandams cared for the children. Up yonder at the
mansion house Black Mammy held sway in the nursery; Aunt Dinah was the
cook; Aunt Rachel carried the housekeeper's keys; while Jane and Ann,
the mulatto ladies' maids, flitted about on duty, and Jim and Jack
"'tended on young marster and de gemman." Such hospitality as was made
possible by that style of living can never repeat itself in changed
conditions. Grant that these conditions are improved. Grant that the
lifted incubus of slavery has opened the doors for the march of
intellectual and industrial progress; the fact remains that the highest
order of social enjoyment, and of the exercise of the charming amenities
of life, was blotted out when the old plantation of Dixie land was
divided up by the spoils of war.

It is interesting to read of the first attempt at a sugar crop in
Louisiana by a Frenchman named Bore in 1794. His indigo plant, once so
profitable, had been attacked and destroyed by a worm, and dire poverty
threatened. He conceived the project of planting sugar cane. The great
question was would the syrup granulate; and hundreds gathered to watch
the experiment. It did granulate, and the first product sold for twelve
thousand dollars--a large sum at that time.

The maker of the cotton gin worked another revolution in commerce, and
rice proved to be an unfailing staple. Armies of negroes tilled the
soil, and were happy in their circumscribed sphere, humanely cared for
by the whites.