"Then take time. I want to talk to you. Come in."

"No, not to-day, John. Fact is I'm not feeling very well. Head's all
stopped up with a cold, and these summer colds are awful, I tell you.
It was a summer cold that took my father off."

"How's your cotton in that low strip along the bayou?"

"Tolerable, John; tolerable."

"Come in. I want to talk to you about it."

"Don't believe I can stand the air in there, John. Head all stopped up.
Don't believe I'm going to live very long."

"Nonsense. You are as strong as a buck."

"You may think so, John, but I'm not. I thought father was strong, too,
but a summer cold got him. I am getting along in years, John, and I find
that I have to take care of myself. But if you really want to talk to me
about that piece of cotton, come out where it's cool."

The Major shoved back his papers and arose, but hesitated; and Gid stood
looking on, fanning himself. The Major stepped out and Gid's face was
split asunder with a broad smile.

"I gad. I've been up town and had a set-to with old Baucum and the rest
of them. Pulled up fifty winner at poker and jumped. Devilish glad to
see you; miss you every minute of the time I'm away. Let's go over here
and sit down on that bench."