whom I had ever had any intimacy. And I admired him: chiefly, I fear,
for his fluent use of profanity and his fighting qualities. He was a
merry lad, with a wondrous quick temper but a good heart. And he seemed
sorry to say good-by. He filled my pockets with June apples--unripe, by
the way--and told me to remember him when I got TILL Charlestown.

I remembered him much longer than that, and usually with a shock of
surprise.



CHAPTER III

CHARLESTOWN

Down and down we went, crossing great rivers by ford and ferry, until the
hills flattened themselves and the country became a long stretch of
level, broken by the forests only; and I saw many things I had not
thought were on the earth. Once in a while I caught glimpses of great
red houses, with stately pillars, among the trees. They put me in mind of
the palaces in Bunyan, their windows all golden in the morning sun; and
as we jogged ahead, I pondered on the delights within them. I saw gangs
of negroes plodding to work along the road, an overseer riding behind
them with his gun on his back; and there were whole cotton fields in
these domains blazing in primrose flower,--a new plant here, so my father
said. He was willing to talk on such subjects. But on others, and
especially our errand to Charlestown, he would say nothing. And I knew
better than to press him.

One day, as we were crossing a dike between rice swamps spread with