The Olive-Branch, or, White Oak Farm
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] THE OLIVE-BRANCH OR, WHTE OAK FARM. PH PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1857. page: -3[View Page -3] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, ty J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. PREFACE. ALL -questions which enlist the sympathies of philanthropy have been more or less prejudiced or embarassed by ultraisms; and, in proportion to the influence which they exert upon the popular mind, the evil which they are designed to abate becomes more aggravated and formidable. This is signally illustrated in the agitation of the subject of slavery. However repugnant to many sober minds this- agi- tation may be, it is not in the sphere of human power to allay it by any expressions of aversion. It obeys a common physical law, and the mind of the nation will be swayed to and fro until that central point of equilibrium is found upon which it can rest in the consciousness of truth. The leaven'-that is hid in the measure of meal will work, and no power of human legislation can annul the principle of fer- mentation. God has given us the norm and measure of truth in the Holy Scriptures. Just so soon as men are prepared to follow this rule, and to listen to its moral teachings, they will reach the solution of the 3 page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] 4 PREFACE. most intricate moral problems that have ever taxed or tormented the ingenuity of reason and philoso- phy. Until they adopt that standard, they must be tossed with tempests and not comforted. There is no help for it. The object which the writer of the following pages proposes, is, to advocate the teachings of the Scriptures. In his opinion, they recognise slavery, beyond all doubt, cavil, or dispute. They recognise it distinctly and repeatedly. Every law which points to the administration of the relative duties of master and slave is a recognition of the relation, modified by the law of Christ; every maxim or pre- cept which defines these duties is a direct intima- tion that the relation is not per se sinful. If it were, the apostle, instead of commanding " as many servants as are under the yoke to count their own masters worthy of all honor, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed," would have enjoined upon all masters to set their slaves at liberty without further parley or delay. But that New Testament law, like the statutes of the Old Testament, allows no oppression, cruelty, or wrong. Therefore, they who plead for the existence of the relation on Bible ground must place the institution upon the basis of the law of Christ, which finds its fulfilment in love. This is the lesson of the book which is herewith committed to the public. PREFACE. 5 The author is persuaded, whilst he has thrown the mantle of fiction over the truth which he wishes to illustrate, that he can find parallels enough to verify the leading incidents, when they are not already literal transcripts of facts; and he has written the volume in the hope that it will be acceptable to Christians, North and South, who receive the Holy Scriptures with godly sincerity as the final judge of controversy on all questions of moral duty. To them he offers it as an Olive-Branch, in all good faith and Christian affection. As personalities have been avoided in the con- tents of the book, the right is claimed to omit them also in the title-page. March 31, 1857. page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] THE OLIVE-BRANC'H. CHAPTER I. THE sun was -just tipping the hills with the first flush of morning, and gilding the trees with that soft and luxu- riant light which is in pleasant harmony with nature's waking from the repose of night, when a small party, equipped for an early ride, stepped out upon the portico of a somewhat antiquated mansion. The large stone house, with its wide wings, overlooked a lawn tastefully adorned with shrubbery, fringing a broad gravel-walk which led to the entrance of the dwelling. A grove of white-oaks, which had battled with the storms of fifty winters and rejoiced in the sunlight of as many sum- mers, spread its broad shadows upon the greensward, which was decked on this bright morning in June with divers hillocks of newly-made hay. Two sturdy labor- ers were mowing the long grass, which, wet with dew, fell before the scythes in "long swarths, and with a degree of clockwork-regularity that showed the handi- work of masters in the art. "Jeames, I say!" shouted the elder of two gentlemen, who with a young lady composed the riding-party, who were evidently waiting for their equipage,-"Jeames, I say," he repeated, with a somewhat broiad Scottish accent, "what is oild Rasil about? Here are Mr Cla- page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, rence and myself, to say nothing of Jeannie, waiting these twenty minutes, and no horses yet!" "No, father dear, not quite so long!" interposed Jeannie, smiling somewhat archly. "Whisht, Jeannie! whisht! I want the horses!" At the very instant when James was preparing to answer his somewhat testy employer, whose temper long habit had taught him both to understand and to humor, the absentee presented himself at the farther end of the lawn, mounted on a powerful roan, and fol- lowed by two ponies, which obeyed the whistle of the old negro, and ranged themselves on either side with no other guidance than the motion of his hand. "Coming, sir!" said James, putting his hand to his cap; and, pointing quickly to the open gate, without per- mitting himself to be further interrupted by the inquiry, he swung his scythe with a will, in order not to lose ground, for his companion was evidently disposed to test his skill as a scytheman, and had availed himself of the momentary pause to gain a few strokes upon his competitor. Meanwhile Basil careered at a round pace toward the verandah, and, presently checking his horse, stood before his master with an air of sturdy confidence mingled with unaffected deference. In truth, Basil was no ordinary character. For more than thirty years he had been in the service of the vene- rable Scotchman, and had long since learned enough of the sterling excellence of his master, to render him proof against -the petty waywardness which unfortu- nately marred the symmetry of a character made up of genuine benevolence. Some fifteen years ago, the negro had been shot through the knee whilst hunting wild turkeys,-a disaster for which he was indebted partly to his skill in imitating the call of the male bird, and partly to the characteristic impetuosity of Mr. Law- WHTE OAK FARM. 9 rence, by which name we crave permission, of the reader to introduce thfe Master of White Oak. "And whar ha'e ye been, Maister Basil, and What for is it that ye've kept us waitin' and waitin', I say, till this late hour, when ye know I gave you my orders, no later nor last night, to be on the ground precisely at six o'clock?" The attitude of the negro who -was thus tartly ac- costed would have been worthy of an artist's study. Throwing over the saddle the rein, which he had held up to this moment, and extending his game limb, he quietly doffed his cap, and, drawing out a globular silver watch, held it before his master, and, with a profound bow, inquired, "Is my watch right, sa?" The fingers of the dial indicated five minutes wanting to six. "Aweel, aweel, Basil," said the old gentleman, "your timepiece may be like yersel',-no little the waur for the wear, and rayther slow, I reckon." "Basil is right, to the minute, father," said Jeannie, whose whole face was lit up with an expression of mis- chievous mirth: "the old man is right," she repeated, "and you," she whispered, (putting her lips close to his ear,) "are, as usual, too fast, my dear, dear father." "Is dis watch right, sa?" inquired Basil, deliberately opening the antiquated case; "is dis watch right, sa, or is it not? 'Kase, if it is wrong, Colonel Lawrence, I would be obliged to you to tell me what time of day we Lave jes' now--dat's all! I allers obey orders, if I breaks owners; and, if I isn't in time, den old Basil is slower dan common!" "I have na time to be clashing about watches, or turnips neither," exclaimed Mr. Lawrence, "but I wad advise ye, Basil, to regulate your timepiece at least twice a day; and it might be prudent even to 'j so three times, or more, per diem, by the clock . page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, stands in the hall yonder, and then, maybe, ye will be able to keep the time of day." At this moment, as if in answer to his appeal, the old clock gave the premonitory whirr, and began to tell the stroke of the hour. The face of old Basil fairly shone with exultation, and Jeannie broke out into an uncontrollable laugh, in which, despite of his attempts to maintain the dignity of injured patience, Mr. Lawrence was compelled to join, as the clock chimed in its pronunciamento of alliance with Basil's timepiece, and proclaimed the hour of six. Pointing to the watch, which was true to the stroke, the old negro replaced it in his fob with a kind of dry chuckle, and familiarly, but at the same time with an admixture of profound respect, said to Mr. Lawrence, as he tightened the girth of the saddle,- - "Old Roan is in fine spirits dis morning, colonel, and he'll go pretty lively, I reckon, 'kase Miss Jeannie's little brack whelp, dar, is as frisky as a monkey; so you may as well be as keerful as you " ' Tut, man! what d'ye mean? Do ye think I have forgotten my horsemanship?" exclaimed Mr. Lawrence. The party started off at a gentle pace, and, passing through the gate, which was held open by a little bare- pated negro, who showed a set of perfect ivories as he bowed in answer to Jeannie's "Good-morning, Turvy!" gained the open road and were soon out of sight. "Dar goes my old massa Lawrence!" said Basil, soli- loquizing, as he strode with a hitching step toward the gate: "dar goes de ole man! as kind a man as ever owned a servant or hired a workman, but jes' for all de world like dat apple-tree dar: it has de best apples in all White Oak, but it bars crabs too,-de sourest kind of crabs and de sweetest pippins, all on one tree. ZBut Miss Jeannie!--I jes' adores dat gal! No crabs about her! Nothin' but smiles dat look like de blossoms of de wine- WHTE OAK FARM. " sap, and kind words and kinder deeds, dat jes' makes her name melt like a ripe cherry in de mouf. I wonder what Arth' Clarence is about: I's kind o' s'picious about him; and if it warn't 'sumptious in me, or if I thought de ole gentleman would let me know if I axed him, I would jes' like for all de worl' to know what he is a-doing on dis yer place, a-ridin' all de time wid Miss Jeannie! Guess I knows." As it is possible that our readers may share some- what in Basil's curiosity, we shall endeavor to make them better acquainted with Mr. Clarence, and with the inmates of White Oak. The estate, which had borne this name for at least three generations, had been purchaed, about twenty years before the date of our narrative, by its present proprietor. It was a few miles distant from the flourish- ing town of W , in Virginia, and the genuine hospi- tality and fine social qualities of its owner had won for him the respect and friendship of every reputable family in the district. Courteous and affable, honest and genet rous, with a heart alive to all that is tender and endear- ing in domestic life, and with a mind cultivated by long intercourse with books, the venerable Colonel Lawrence (for he was fast verging on his threescore years and ten) was deservedly held in .the highest regard for qualities of head and heart which had been most thoroughly tested. Combined with these, however, was a certain asperity of manner at times, resulting not so much from quickness of temper as from a natural impatience, which urged him always to do whatever he took in hand with his might. This feature threw a shade of eccentricity over his character, and strangers were not always im- pressed as favorably as Jeannie could have wished them to be, at their first acquaintance with her father. She was an only daughter, the youngest of his four children -;!: and specially dear to him for the memory w h sishe? a; . page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, revived of her mother, who died in Jeannie's early infancy. She was the light of his home; and the affec- tion which he poured upon her without stint was repaid with all the generous ardor of artless and enthusiastic devotion. Jeannie was her father's confidant. The queen of White Oak without the least affectation of authority, her word was received as law by the servants of her father's house, although she had scarcely in all her life issued a command. The care of the household rested ostensibly upon a female domestic, who had super- intended its economy for the past twenty years, and who assumed the right, which nothing can confer but tried fidelity, of controlling its current affairs very much after her own mind, although this was, after all, no very formidable exercise of independence, inasmuch as she understood Colonel Lawrence's wishes and habits tho- roughly, and could accommodate them to a nicety. Aunt Dorothy was of German extraction. She possessed great tact, with little or no education. The idea of as- sociating her services with any duties rendered by the colored denizens of White Oak had never for a moment been entertained. She was absolute in her province; and the appellation of " aunty" repelled any suggestion derogatory to her dignity, which otherwise might have produced a collision between the dependants of the family. Aunt Dorothy was the housekeeper. She knew her duty and her right; and, whilst she performed the one with exemplary faithfulness, she maintained the other with a jealousy that was at times amusing from its excessive vigilance: but Aunt Dorothy was in very truth a good soul. She had carried all the children of Colonel Lawrence in her arms, from the time that they were intrusted to her keeping, until they were able to run without her help. She had nursed them in their sickness, when bereft of their mother's care, and by a thousand acts of kindness had earned that grateful WHTE OAK PARM. 18 deference which every true heart is ready to show even to a dependant, who has been long tried, and whose services are not to be repaid by any other than the heart's coin. To her church Aunt Dorothy was de- voted. No household claim was allowed to stand in com- petition for a moment with her public religious duties. To church she would go: rain or shine, Aunt Dorothy was always in-her place; and never was she more voluble than when commenting on the excellencies of her preacher and his sermons. Her doctrinal ideas were. doubtless in some respects very vague; her stock of in- formation was not gathered from books, for she read but imperfectly, and had always been too proud to learn, or to confess her ignorance. Even Jeannie could not teach her. Had she not nursed this same Jeannie, whom she loved as if she had been her own child, since she was a few months old? And was Jeannie to be her teacher? Aunt Dorothy would brook no such thought, and so, despite of Jeannie's tact, aunty remained much as she had been when she first entered the house- hold. Some twenty years before the period at which our narrative dates, White Oak had passed from the hands of its former owner, Judge Clarence, into the possession of Colonel Lawrence. He had sold a large estate in Georgia, and removed to Virginia with the hope that a more bracing air would compensate for the enervating effects of the Southern climate upon the delicate consti- tution of his wife. The manifest improvement in health which followed the removal was most gratifying to him; but, after a residence of three years at White Oak, his heart had been wellnigh crushed by the rapid waning of her strength. The highest medical skill was unavail- ing, and all the Christian fortitude of her husband was needed to save him from melancholy despondency when he saw the grave close upon the wife who had been 2 page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " THE OLIVE-BRANC'H; OR, dear to him as his own soul. Of all his children, Jeannie alone was born at White Oak. Of his three sons, Alexander, the oldest, was a physician in Georgia, the second, Andrew, was a lawyer entering upon a lu- crative practice at the bar of the neighboring county- town, and the third, Harry, died abroad, after graduat- ing with honor at the University of Edinburgh. White Oak, though a far more quiet abode than it had been when " the boys" were at home, was by no means in danger of lapsing into any thing like the condition of a hermitage. Scarcely a day passed without a visit from some of the colonel's neighbors; and, whether it was owing to the hearty hospitality of the old Scotch- man, or to the attraction of Miss Jeannie, 'in good sooth," as her father sometimes jocosely remarked to her, "the callants were aye ready to show their best gear in White Oak Hall." The guest-if he might so be termed-who at present shared their hospitality was a young man in whom the colonel felt an unusual degree of interest. Arthur Clarence was the sole surviving representative of the family whose ancestors had held White Oak from the days of James I., by whose letters- patent the title to its broad acres had been confirmed. By a train of calamitous events, the estate was thrown into the market, and Arthur Clarence, at the age of four years, was left an orphan, nominally under the care of a guardian, who proved himself, like too many who have occupied a similar position, utterly unworthy of the trust reposed in him. The poor boy, left in the care ofrstrangers, would have been cast as a waif upon the world's current, without a friend to succor him, had not Colonel Lawrence, providentially made aware of the facts of the case, at once adopted him as his own, and with quiet generosity cared for his education and main- tenance. Arthur had grown up with his own sons. They lad romped under the oaks together, and had WHTE OAK FARMa 15 shared the same "bed and board" for more than ten years, until the necessity of geeking opportunities of more thorough education compelled the colonel, sorely against his -will, to send the boys from home. Arthur Clarence was devoted heart and soul to the colonel's interests. He not only regarded him as a benefactor, but he loved him as a father. Although not a word had been dropped by his foster-parent on the subject, and nothing in the conduct of the- family to- wards him had ever tended to make Arthur feel his past dependence onerous to himself, yet the details of his own history cast a shadow upon his spirit and ren- dered him habitually thoughtful and reserved. As for Jeannie, in her childhood she had never made the least distinction between Arthur and her own brothers. She loved them all; and though, since Arthur's return, she manifested an occasional coyness and reserve when in his presence, she did not attempt to conceal her affection for the young man, whose polished and amiable manners made him an especial favorite at White Oak. page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CTTAPTE'l II. As the party galloped over the road,-which truth com- pels us to say was none of the smoothest,-the bracing air of the early morning, and that enchanting freshness which can be enjoyed only by those who anticipate the rising of the sun, or who at least woo nature before her sweetest smiles are won, made the gay hearts of the old colonel and his daughter beat with more than usual cheerfulness. The sprightly black pony, which had been Jeannie's companion in many a morning stroll, seemed to enter into the exercise with unusual zest, and the laughing girl enjoyed the frolicking mood of Pet, who pranced-and neighed with manifest delight. The colo- nel was no mean equestrian, and, though his joints had been somewhat stiffened by rheumatism, he could enjoy a moderate degree of exercise; but the wild mood of Jeannie and her favorite began to gall the old gentle- man, for old Roan was no rocking-chair. "Jeannie, I'm no' distract' wi' dyspepsia," quietly observed the colonel. "Right glad am I that you are not," rejoined his daughter. "Then why do ye ride at such a gait? If it is out of regard to my well-being, Hwould rayther you would slack your pace a bit. Besides, it is not convenient for conversation, Jeannie. Here is Mr. Arthur-looking as if he were Atlas with a heavy world upon his shoulders- has not opened his mouth to say good or evil, since we left the house!" WHTE OAK FARM. 17 "Still waters are deep, father dear," said Jeannie, stroking the mane of Pet and patting his arched neck, as he stepped out in a quiet walk, tossing his head and champing the bit, as though obeying under protest. "Then art thou naught but *a babbling, laughing brook;. for thou art seldom still, Jeannie." "I have my sober moments, though. There are eddies even in little brooks sometimes, in which tall men must either swim or drown, sir," said Jeannie, playfully glancing at the stately figure of the colonel. "What ails you, Arthur? Speak, man! Out with it! What has made you so much like a mute these last three days?" For this sudden appeal Clarence was hardly prepared, and Jeannie, noticing his embarrassment, endeavored to relieve him by expressing her fears that Arthur was either in poor health, or that some piece of news had. robbed him of his usual spirits. "Neither the one nor the other, I assure you," replied Arthur, with an effort at unconcern. "I am as well as I ever was in my life, and as happy as I ever expect or deserve to be in this world; but I .sometimes qpjoy my- self most as a quiet listener, or as a spectator of the happiness of others." "No, no!" retorted the colonel. "None of that, Mr. Arthur. You are born to be happy yourself as well as to see others happy around you." "Every one seems to be happy at White Oak," said Clarence, "and I surely were a most unreasonable crea- ture to be miserable from sheer caprice." With that quick instinctive apprehension which is so characteristic of the female mind, Jeannie guessed that her presence was something of a restraint upon young Clarence; and, prompt at expedient, she determined to relieve -him. "By your leave, my gallants," said she, "I will ride B 2. page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR; over to the quarter yonder, and look after my patients. Pet will not miss your company much, whatever iny loss may be, for he has been fretting ever since I checked him ;" and, drawing up the reins as she waved her hand, without waiting for remonstrance, Jeannie set off at a pace which she well knew her father would be loath to maintain, if he should attempt to imitate it. "Whoa, Roan! Whoa, I say!' shouted the colonel, as his horse began to spread himself for a trot. "The mischief is in that girl; but-Heaven knows!-she is as sweet a lass as ever called an old man father. Let her go, Arthur: it's no use! Nay, man, be advised," he con- tinued, as Clarence was preparing, after the first sur- prise, to start off in pursuit; " be advised, I tell ye. Ye might as well run after a hare in a field of heather, as go in chase of my Jeannie. She will be looking after some poor sick body in the quarter, and she would rayther have our room than our company. Let her go, man. And now tell me, Arthur," said the old man, drawing to his side, and letting the rein hang upon his horse's neck, as the animal settled down into a quiet walk, "what ails you? Something is the matter; and I have a right, I think, as an old friend, and as one that has loved you as his own bairn, to ask that question, Arthur." There was a tenderness in the old man's voice as he turned his quick gray eyes upon his young friend, as though he were reading in his countenance the thoughts that pressed upon his mind; and Arthur Clarence felt that Colonel Lawrence had a right even to read his thoughts. He paused a moment, as though struggling with emotions which his manhood required him to re- press, and answered the inquiry of his friend with in- * genuous frankness:-- "I do not deny, my kind friend, that I am under more than ordinary mental pressure; and I am sorry I WNHTE OAK FARM. 19 am so 'little of a Jesuit as to be unable to keep my thoughts without making a tell-tale of my face." "Never apologize for honesty, Arthur; and, of all crea- tures, biped or quadruped; centipede, web-footed or claw-, footed, never try to be like a' Jesuit," exclaimed the colonel, whose Protestant fire was stirred by the allu- sion. "But to the point, man:. if it is any thing, I ought to know; and if it is not, keep it, Arthur, to yoursel', and put a blithe face on it. Mind, I am not your father- confessor, though I would be glad to give you absolu- tion." "Well, I know no man who is better entitled to sit as judge in the court of conscience than yourself," rejoined Clarence, " and I will make a clean breast of it, colonel. But the story is somewhat long, and I rather fear we shall not have time this morning to get through with it." "Aweel, ye are better already, Arthur man, and we can wait till we have had some breakfast; for, in truth, I begin to be put in mind that we have omitted itat part of our duty. But ye can begin, maybe?"' '; Without further introduction, Clarence resumed:- -i have heard news within the last few days, colonel, that have perplexed -me, I confess; and, without entering upon particulars, I may say that they are so extraordi- nary that you will excuse my apparent abstraction." "Not apparent merely, but real, sir," interposed the colonel. , . 'If t;he statement which I have heard can be de- pended on, I may have it in my power, colonel, to repay, in some measure, at least part of the debt I owe you. There is a weight of moral obligations-a debt of grati- tude I never can liquidate,-a debt which it will always- be a pleasure-to acknowledge." "Arthur Clarence," exclaimed the old gentleman, somewhat impatiently, "I never doubted your love for me; and now I say to youronce for all,--' as thou lovest' page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, me, Hal!?-say not another word like that. You owe me nothing, sir, but that which one Christian man owes another. Pecuniary obligation there is none on your part: not a stiver, sir; not a baubee, man! Now, do not shake that proud head, but hear me. I have always felt that White Oak was never half paid for." "You paid all that was asked." "Whisht, man! it was not half its value. The price I paid settled all your father's debts, every dollar of them, and left some few thousands over, which- that rascally guardian of yours squandered before I knew any thing about it; and when I found you in the care of old Tacey, who clung to you with all a mother's devo- tion, I felt it a duty, man,-a common duty of honesty,- to take charge of you; and I have never regretted it! You are a credit to me, Arthur; and you have an interest in White Oak, which you can convert into cash, if you say the word, at any day; for I have your money laid by, and have had it accumulating for twenty years; and it is ready for you; it is your own: so ye need not be troubled about money-news, Arthur. A young man must be a poor tool that cannot live with twenty-five thousand dollars; and that is justly your own." During this address, Clarence had gazed on his old friend in utter amazement. His answer was prompt:- "I cannot accept it, sir." "Now hear till him!" exclaimed the colonel. "This is no new thing, man; Saundy, and Aundy, to say nothing of Jeannie, have long since known of this arrangement, and not only sanction the thing, but in- sist on it. The money has never been touched by me since the day I invested it, twenty years ago, in the name of Arthur Clarence; and if you cannot accept it, sir, it will have to go begging for an owner of that name, for no one else can touch a penny in the pack. So there's an end of it." WHTE OAK FARM. 21 A sudden turn in the road brought them into an avenue of lofty oaks which threw their broad arms over a narrow path, barely wide enough to allow two car- riages to pass, and skirted on either side by a dense thicket of young timber and brushwood,. which was intersected by footpaths winding. through the tangled shrubbery. Emerging from the thicket by one of these paths, a tall mulatto woman, dressed with punctilious neatness, a bright bandanna, fastened with a costly brooch, covering her head like a turban, stood before the horsemen, and saluted them with a shrill "Good- morning!"Lowering her voice till the tones sank into mournful. solemnity, she continued:--' God send you many mornings as bright as this, Colonel Lawrence; for the blessing of him that is ready to perish has come upon you many and many a time in your long life! But who is this?" said she, eyeing the colonel's companion; and, before a word of explanation could be uttered, she threw her arms around Clarence's waist and screamed, "My own child! my blessed Arthur Clarence! don't you know your old nurse, Tacey "In an instant the young man had dismounted; and the old mulatto, with a hand on each shoulder, gazed into the young man's face, while her voice, trembling with deep excitement, faltered out, "My dear, precious young master! For all the world, Judge Clarence over again!-all but the wrinkles and the white head." "And they'll come soon enough," muttered the colo- nel, as he drew his hand over his eyes. "My blessed master! Now, the Lord be praised, I can hold you in my old arms again, and you are not too proud yet to love your poor old mammy," said, or rather sobbed, the poor woman, as Arthur, regardless of all the prejudices of a more northern latitudekissed the- old woman's cheek, and threw himself, sobbing like a child, upon her neck. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "Bhoot awa', man!" groaned the colonel; for the attempt at merriment was choked in his throat. "Hoot awa', Arthur Clarence!" he exclaimed again, with somewhat of an improvement in the tones of his voice; "what are ye about, man? I'll report ye to auld Basil, my master of proprieties :" and he broke out, in a voice not the most melodious, into a stave which he travestied for the occasion:- "Arthur, let the girls alone!" "Let him alone, Colonel Lawrence!" retorted Tacey. "Yes, let him alone, father mine," was echoed by a gentle voice at- his side, as Pet, bearing the agile Jeannie, decked with wreaths of wild flowers, stood pawing behind the colonel's horse. "Witches and warlocks!" shouted the old man: " how come you upon us, Jeannie?" "Welcome,Jeannie Sunshine!-the light of White Oak," sai Tacey; "welcome as heart's-ease to the wounded spirit," murmured the old mulatto, as, releasing her hold upon the young man, she moved towards her young mistress, and, drawing from her bosom a simple bouquet of the modest Houstonia, to which common consent has given the name of "Innocence," she planted it' in the folds of the white lawn which covered the panting bosom of the lovely girl. ' Grow there, Innocence," she said, " for this is the soil that suits you; and may the dews of God's own heaven keep you fresh forever." "Hold, Tacey!" cried the laughing girl; "you will leave me not a shred uncovered with wild flowers. I have had a shower of them down at the quarter there; and, if Pet had not galloped off in a hurry, those little fairies, or Calibans, would have smothered me with nosegays." "Despise them not," said the mulatto; "they are love's offering. They are brighter than the jewels around your fair neck : gold and jewels cannot buy them. They WHTE OAK FARM. 283 are all the poor things had to give you, Jeannie;,and- God, bless. your kind heart!-it is not in you to refuse them." "Come, Tacey, that will do," replied Jeannie, kindly. "We must away- home; for I know Aunt Dorothy is all in a fidget about breakfast: but you will come over with us, for Arthur has a thousand things to teh you, no doubt. Ten years are a long time for a young man to be away from his mam." And, drawing the bridle-rein, -Pet bounded away, followed by the colonel,-Arthur lin- gering a moment to repeat Jeannie's invitation, to which the mulatto replied, pointing to the mansion, which was plainly visible in the distance, "I am at home in White Oak yet; and my heart deceives me, or my old eyes will see the day when Arthur Clarence will be at home there too, and not merely as a guest." The blood flushed in Clarence's face, as he shook his' head, and, with a doubtful air, replied, "I fear, Tacey, in that you will be disappointed. White Oak belongs of right to its noble master; and no man is more willing than myself that Colonel Lawrence should be its owner." "A noble master he is," rejoined Tacey, as Arthur, putting the pony to his speed, cantered away to join his friends,--"a noble master, truly; but not more noble than my sown boy," continued the old woman, as she watched the retiring figure of young Clarence. "His own he shall have, whether White Oak be his or not; and, thank God, those are the keepers of his wealth who are only waiting God's time to give it him." page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CTTA PTEIR III. JEANNIE had never been more accurate in her surmise than when she expressed her conviction touching Aunt Dorothy's impatience. As they rode through the lawn, the prim figure of the old housekeeper was descried at the window of a second-story room, from which she had evidently been peering out in anxious watch for their return. ,She had muttered all sorts of complaints, always sotto voce, and had just finished a rhapsody of impatient complaint about Miss Jeannie's propensity to go "perusing about, mornings, without breakfast, till it was most time to begin to get the dinner ready," when she spied them turning the corner which gave her a view of the truants, and, posting to the breakfast-room, she gave orders to have every thing in readiness. "Well, aunty, here we are at last," said Jeannie, as Clarence gently lifted her from the saddle, and she shook the wreaths with which she was so profusely adorned, and, with a merry laugh, exacting the admira- tion of Dorothy with "Just look at these, will you?" tripped up-stairs to doff her riding-apparel, while Basil and his familiar, Turvy, claimed the horses as their charge, the old negro remarking, "Pet all in a lather again," and chuckling over "de Virginia blossom," as he called Miss Jeannie. "'What time have you now, Basil?" said the colonel, with a good-humored nod, as his sable equerry stroked the neck of old Roan, preparatory to a shambling kind of vault with which he proposed to place himself in the saddle, provided all went well. Pausing in his onset, WHTE OAKH FARM. 25 Basil drew out his timepiece and replied, "'Zactly ten minutes and a half past eight o'clock, colonel;" and, replacing the watch in his fob, bowed with a quizzical leer in his eye, which said, as plainly as words could do, "I understand." Aunt Dorothy presided at the table. The events of the morning had tended materially to dissipate the gloom which had oppressed Clarence, and the naivete of the housekeeper afforded him vast amusement. Ten years had elapsed since his departure from White Oak, and after his graduation he had spent several years on the continent of Europe, gathering that kind of informa- tion which can be obtained only from observation. She, too, had lately been a traveller, having actually journeyed by rail from Winchester to Baltimore. "Though," she observed, "Miss Jeannie had contained them so long a-waiting that when they got to the deep hole the man had sung out, Overboard already."' "What's that you say, aunty?" inquired Jeannie: "do you mean I fell overboard into a deep hole? Well, if I did, it must have been when I was asleep in the car." "Na, na, Jeannie," said the colonel, laughing, "aunty -tells you what ye know already,--that we had like to have missed our passage; for when we got to the dep6t the conductor was shouting, 'All aboard.' " "Of course I do," chimed in Aunt Dorothy; "and Miss Jeannie remembers it all came from forgetting'to put the farthingales on Pet's collar." Clarence could not stand this last reminiscence, for Jeannie's face was crimson with suppressed laughter, heightened by this flight of aunty, which her father mis- chievously turned to her confusion, by shouting,- Martingales, aunty!-martingales ye mean! Jean- nie's farthingales are no' hung on Pet's collar: he could 3 . page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, not travel in them. They are woman's gear, and out of a' manner of proportion too." "Well, well." observed aunty, quietly, "people that travel meet a great many upside-downs in the world." Wittihout waiting for a formal dismissal, Clarence almost bolted from the table, and, leaving the colonel and aunty to correct their proof-sheets as they baw fit, he rushed out into the lawn. Jeannie had fled so soon as she heard the twang of the colonel's bowstring as he sped his arrow at the farthingales; and, looking out from the open window of the library, she saw Clarence rolling on the hayricks, whilst James and Donald McAlvan looked in astonishment at the young man's paroxysm, until Donald, annoyed at the disturbance of the ricks, exclaimed, "Deil's in the mon!" "Never mind the hay, Donald," said Clarence: "I will make all the damage good as soon as I get over this spree." "Ye'll ha'e the histrionics, I doubt," said Donald, shaking his head -'.ith a look of commiseration, and momentarily expecting a gush of tears to follow. "Puir young chiel'. Will I fetch my gudewife, or Aunt Do- rothy maybe? They could gie ye a sup doctor-stuff, or the likes, maybe, wad do ye gude." "Oh! Par nobile! Donald and Dorothy!" groaned Clarence. "Fetch yer gudewife, Donald man," shouted the colo- nel; "for, if a man can have hysterics, Arthur Clarence is a case for the doctors." "The puir young cratur'," exclaimed Donald. "Och! colonel dear, see how the tears is running adown his young cheeks." "Never mind, then, Donald; he'll soon be better, if that's the case: don't bother the gudewife. Here's Miss Jeannie 'II do as weel," WHTE OAK FARM. 27 "Hold off! enough! I beseech you. My sides ache!" exclaimed Clarence. "Do, pray, have mercy!" "Confess, then, that H am the best doctor for curing hypochondriac patients that you have met in all Vir- ginia." 'I confess!--you, and Aunt Dorothy, and. Donald Mac " "Forswear all blue devils, from this time forth, and promise " "Oh, if it comes to promises," retorted Clarence, who had rallied By this time, "I amI not going to make any more till I have redeemed my word passed to friend Donald;" and, seizing a rake, he readjusted the rick which he had scattered over the sward. "There, Donald, that is in shape again; and if you want a hand for an hour or so, I'm at your service, no other engagement or call preventing." Donald eyed the rick with evident satisfaction. It was in shape. "Ye'll ha' made hay afore the day?" he re- marked, in an inquiring tone. "I have," said Clarence. "The last time I swung a scythe was in the neighbourhood of Glasgow." "Glasgow!" exclaimed both the brothers,-"Glasgow! And d'ye ken Jemmy McAlvan?-him that has the wool- len-factory, that married Saundy Paterson's Mary, her that has the red hair and the cast in one of her een?" At this interesting juncture, the approach of Tacey interposed a bar to further conversation with the McAlvans; and Clarence, after courteously answering their inquiry, sadly to their disappointment, in the nega- tive, excused himself for the present by pleading a prior engagement with his old nurse, and, turning to meet her, took the hand which she proffered and led her towards the verandah. "You are tired, Tacey, and your long walk has given you an appetite. Jeannie has some breakfast for you: page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, won't yon come in?" said the colonel, as the old mulatto took a seat on the portico. "Thank you, master, I am not very tired, and not at all hungry," replied Tacey. "I will rest a few minutes; and then, if Master Clarence has time, I want him to go with me, on special business, about five miles on tOM-- W Road." Clarence assented to her proposal, as he well knew, from intimations he had already received from her son, that she was in possession of information of no little importance to himself. Tacey regarded herself and her two children as " belonging" to no one but Arthur Cla- rence. She prided herself on her relation to the former proprietor of White Oak, by whom she had been pur- chased in her youth, at her own urgent request, to save her from the " soul-driver," who was taking her with a gang farther south. From Judge Clarence she had re- ceived nothing but kindness, and in his family she had enjoyed protection and sympathy, which still rendered his memory dear to her. Her husband, to whom she had been married with all the formality of a "white wedding," had died some years ago, and she, with her son and daughter, remained on the estate after it had passed into the possession of Colonel Lawrence. Tacey had acquired great influence over the servants. They looked upon her with a degree of respect amount- ing almost to awe. Her language and demeanor were so entirely different from their own, that she seemed to move in a higher sphere; and her tact and the kindness of her heart had given her a position on all the sur- rounding plantations such as is seldom possessed by persons in her humble station. Another element of her strength lay, without doubt, in the eccentricity which marked her character, and which had sometimies sug- gested the suspicion of partial insanity to the family at White Oak. If superstition is ever constitutional, it cer- WHTE OAK FARM. 29 tainly belongs peculiarly to the negro character, when surrounded by its native associations; and, whether Aunt Tacey was a ghost-seer or not, she certainly believed in her own heart that she could and did see more than most people can, and she enjoyed a- corresponding repu- tation and respect in the quarter. And'yet she was no charlatan; neither was she insane. She really believed what she affirmed, and the impressions which were made on her mind and even on her sense of vision were none the less real, supposing them to originate in an excited imagination. Her word was as good a bond of veracity as any one might need; and, where she was known, no person, whether black or white, required any other voucher. Her experience as a Christian was deep and practical, and her life was a constant exercise of the most artless and confiding faith, working by love. Though nominally a slave, she enjoyed the most unli- mited freedom to come and go when and where she pleased, and her relation to her master gave her the ad- vantage of a protection and security which she could not otherwise have enjoyed. When Colonel Lawrence became the proprietor of White Oak, he introduced upon his plantation the same regime which he had endeavored, though less success- fully, to establish in Georgia. Possessed of large wealth, with pecuniary resources adequate to his plans, and alto- gether independent of the proceeds of his plantation for the maintenance of his household, he had labored most assiduously to elevate the moral tone of his dependants, and had kept before his mind and conscience the inspired precept, "Masters, give to your servants that which is equal and just." He provided not only for: their com- fort in things temporal, but he insisted upon sobriety and decency in deportment, and taught them to regard the -family and marriage contract as the basis of all their domestic life and-as essential to self-respect. The $ffect $* page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, of this economy was plainly visible in the superior moral tone which prevailed at White Oak. The male servants of Colonel Lawrence were noted for their manly and respectful deportment, and the women were modest, thrifty, and decorous, ruling their children and superin- tending their own domestic concerns as scrupulously as they rendered the service required by their master's interest. All this had been effected without in the least disturbing the relation which subsisted between the colo- nel and his servants. He had no conscientious scruples touching his moral right to be a slave-holder. His prin- ciples had been matured in the school which receives the Scriptures as the only rule of 'faith and duty; and, fully persuaded in his own mind that he incurred the responsibility in the fear of God, he left to others the profitless task of doting on abstractions, content for his own'part to fill the sphere and discharge the duties which Providence had assigned to him as the master and legal owner of more than a hundred servants. One fact, however, we may note in this episode. He had on more than one occasion intimated to his servants that, if any of them believed their condition would be improved by a removal to a free State, he was ready to give them the most liberal opportunities of securing their discharge by' due process of law. Never were retainers of a Highland laird more loyal to their clan and to their chief than the servants of White Oak to their generous master. Whilst Clarence was preparing to accompany Aunt Tacey and had left her on the verandah, she was joined by a party composed of her son and daughter, and a young mulatto man, all dressed in holiday apparel, and who, at Tacey's invitation, took seats near her, waiting for the return of the colonel, whom they were anxious to see on some speciality of grave interest to themselves. Sue Clarence, as Tacey called her gaughter, was a hand- some, dark brunette, in her twentieth year, with a face H I T E OAK F A RM. 31 indicating intelligence and modesty, and a person cast in that mould of symmetry which always insures admi- ration. Her brother Tom, her senior by some four or five years, was an athletic man, tall and well propor- tioned, bearing a marked resemblance in feature and countenance to his mother; and the third was a favorite servant of the colonel's, who called himself Paul Law- rence, and who, with some little diffidence, arising per- haps from the manifest embarrassment of the dark-eyed Susan, whose countenance he was ever and anon watch- ing, took his place at her side in answer to Tacey's direction. "Wait a few minutes, children," said the old woman: "I will speak for you when the colonel comes." They were not held long in suspense. As soon as his heavy step was heard in the hall, the party on the ve- randah rose to their feet, and saluted him, as he stepped towards them, with a "Good-morning, Mas' Lawrence!" "Ah! what have we here?" said the colonel. c Eh, Tacey? A wedding, I'll be bound." 'I told Paul to meet me with Susan this morning, to ask your consent, Colonel Lawrence," said Tacey, "to their marriage." "Well, and what do you think of the match yourself, Tacey?" "They have my consent; and'I trust God's blessing will go with it and with your own, if you think it best to grant their request," replied the mother. "Tacey," the colonel resumed, after a moment's pause, "I think you have not consulted the right party irl coming to me. You know Sue is dependent on Mr. Clarence. As for Paul here, I can speak for him. I must say, I like his choice vastly." "As for that matter," said Arthur, "Aunt Tacey knows I have long since left her to exercise her maternal right; and I have no control in the affair at all. So, as all page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, parties are agreed, I move, colonel, that this be a match, and that you call in the services of Dr. Haddon for the occasion." "And I second that motion," said Jeannie. "All in favor say ay," rejoined the colonel; and, upon a general laughing response, the colonel announced, "The ayes have it. It is a match, Paul. But you ought to have your cage ready before you catch the bird; and I do not know of an empty house in the quarter." "Mas' Lawrence, I ax yer pardon," said Paul, his ebony face shining like a mirror, "but I always likes to hab de bird fust and de cage arterwards." "Sensible graduate!" replied the colonel. "But, Paul, how about the house?" "Mam' Tacey will make room for us, colonel. She has four rooms, and she says she don't want but one. Tree rooms will do, Mas' Lawrence, or two eider; or one, for dat matter." r "Very well, Paul; I see you are very reasonable. You have always been a good boy, and we must try and make you comfortable. Aunt Dorothy will see that things are all snug when you go to housekeeping." "No," said Jeannie; "I intend to look after that mat- ter myself. We are going to have a time with this wed- ding, by your leave, father; and I want all the hands to be on the lawn this evening by six o'clock, and we can send word to brother Andy to bring Dr. Haddon over with him from W ." "Upon my word," cried the colonel, "I think you are rather in a hurry to have the houses of Lawrence and Clarence united. Why won't to-morrow do, Jeannie?" "It will, if you prefer it, sir;" and the colonel could ':': almost have bitten his tongue when he noticed that Jeannie was blushing to her ears at this double imputa- WHTE OAK FARM. 33 tionj which was entirely too sharp for the sensitive ears that caught it. "As you like, Jeannie darling: but perhaps to-morrow would be the best time," continued the colonel; "for I think we have some other matters on hand that will keep us busy to-day." Jeannie had no more to say, but, acquiescing, with a- good-humored smile, in the arrangement, she whispered' to Sue to follow her into the house. "Susy," said the kind-hearted girl, " you know I pro- mised you a nice wedding-dress a year ago, and I have had it ready for you these last six months. Come up: stairs with me, and let us see how it fits you. Look, Sue," she continued, as, opening a drawer, she displayed a beautiful white dress of the finest law n, which, with a liberal addition of such linen as housekeepers do most covet, she told the admiring Susan was all her own. The dress was soon adjusted. Jeannie declared it fit her to a nicety; and Aunt Dorothy, who came bustling into the room, exclaimed that, for all the world, Sue looked. as if she were going to be married right off. ' "Oh, Miss Jeannie," said Susan, "this is jes' like you. I'm sure I'n a thousand times thankful: but you knows, Miss Jeannie, we all loves you." "Yes, yes, I know, Susy," said Jeannie, patting the- cheek of the smiling brunette, "I know. Now, let me see,-that will do, won't it, aunty? So! we will just fix this little brooch on the collar, and see if that will- not set it off. You must keep this for my sake, Susy; and when you get to be an old woman " but here the laughing girl checked herself, and, selecting a sprig of orange-blossom from a vase at the window, she inserted it in the long, shining black tresses of the girl, and, tking her hand, tripped lightly down-stairfs and t 1gh the hall towards the open door. .They were sta Hed at observing that two gentlemen to; whom the C .* , , * W.,. page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, were both strangers were engaged in earnest conversa- tion with Colonel Lawrence; and Jeannie knew at a glance, from the fire in her father's kindling eye, and from the quick, decided tones of his voice, that some- thing more than usually annoying had occurred to excite him. The younger of the two visitors was dressed with a degree of foppish extravagance which induced Jeannie, without any attempt to scan his features, to set him down as one of the species which was her father's ab- horrence. A profusion of rings adorned, or rather covered, his fingers; and a long, flashy gold chain, to which divers seals and charms were appended, hung dangling half-way to his knee. The thumb of one hand was inserted in the arm-hole of a vest displaying all the colors of the rainbow; the other hand flourished a deli- cate ivory-tipped cane : and thus he strode up and down the verandah, exchanging sentences with the colonel, though, it need scarcely be said, his remarks were not honored with a syllable more than courtesy required. Such was the Honorable Mr. Scrub. The appearance of the elder was neither unusual nor prepossessing. A plain dress, a plain face, with a sinister expression of low cunning, and a figure portly but of medium stature, completed the personnel of Mr. Sharp. Jeannie was horrified, as she gained the foot of the stairway, by hearing the low ribaldry and disgusting profanity of the young swell, who was delivering him- self of his errand with the utmost nonchalance:-"You see, aw-Colonel Lawrence, H-aw-supposed that you would have no objections to-aw--convert a few of your surplus niggas-aw-into hard cash. My friend Sharp -aw-can vouch-aw-that every thing shall be--aw- satisfactory on my part-aw "Hark'ee, friend!" exclaimed the colonel, with a de- liberation that made Jeannie shudder, (for she knewthat WHTE OAK FARM. 85 the calm tones of his voice were the surest presage of a tempest of wrath,)-" hark'ee! I have already told you that your overtures are offensive; and now, sir, I have to request " "Bless me, colonel," shouted Mr. Scrub, as his eye fell on the brunette, who clung in terror to the arm of Jeannie, "I swear--aw-if that is not the likeliest wench-aw-I have seen since I left New Orleans! I vow, you shall sell her, colonel. Ho, my pretty yellow- bird!" he continued, with impudent familiarity, ap- proaching the poor girl, who shrunk from him, and, with a cry of horror, broke away from her young mistress. With the insolence which none but the hardened pro- fligate can exhibit, Mr. Scrub caught the girl's arm and drew her towards him:--"So you can sing., too." "Unhand that girl, sir!" said Arthur Clarence, whose compressed lip and pale face were- the only indications of excitement, the calm, deliberate tones of his voice expressing no passion. "Unhand her, sir, this instant!" he repeated, as Scrub still retained his hold. "And, pray, sa, who are you, sal?" inquired Scrub. Without deigning any reply, Clarence seized the hand of Mr. Scrub, and, with- the grasp of a vice, removed it from Susan's arm. Retreating a step, Mr. Scrub, flourishing his cane over his head, rushed upon Clarence, exclaiming, u' I'll teach you manners, sa! I will, sa! Take that, sa!" he shouted, aiming a blow at Arthur's face. Before Mr, Scrub could have time to calculate either steps or distance, he found himself propelled out of the hall-door as though he had been shot from a Roman catapult. Down the steps he flew, careering; and, after a series of attempts to regain his equilibrium, the honorable gentleman brought up with hands and face buried in a clump of sweet-brier which stood on the opposite side of the gravel-walk. "Weel done, Arthy!" exclaimed the colonel; and, in 1-'1* page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; ORI the same breath, he continued,-"Basil, mon,-or here, Tom,--or you, Paul,--see these gentlemen to the gate, and let them take themselves off these premises, with all the gear that belongs to them," said the exasperated colo- nel, as he pitched Scrub's hat after him. "Begone, sirs, both of ye! and, hark'ee, Mr. Scrub, never enter that gate again, if you wish to keep whole bones in your hide." "Mussy on us, massa!" exclaimed old Basil; " you's had a bad fall, sir;" at the same time drawing Mr. Scrub through the shrub in such a manner as to give him a few additional scratches. "Hope the gemman a'n't much hurt nohow!" "Off with you, you black rascal!" screamed the be- wildered Scrub; and, picking up his hat, he looked at his tattered pantaloons, from which one knee protruded, and, growling with impotent rage, muttered, "I'll have setisfection for nmy wounded honna. I will, , sa! Yes, sa! you shall give me setisfection!" he groaned, looking angrily at Clarence. "Satisfaction, mon! satisfaction, d'ye say? Be satis- fied with what ye've got!" roared the colonel: "ye might as weel face yer auld father, the deevil himsel', as wak' Arthy Clarence. Begone, while yer legs can carry ye." "-Really, colonel," interposed Mr. Sharp, " this is an unpleasant affair. It's unhandsome! it is so!" ex- claimed Shar)p, recovering from his amazement, and assisting Scrub to mount his horse, which, with his own, stood at a short distance from the house. "If this is a specimen of your famed hospitality, sir," he continued, waxing warm as he spoke, " then, " "If ye dinna like yer fare, Mr. Sharp, gi'e us the go-by in yer travels," quietly retorted the colonel; and, turning on his heel, he entered the hall, and, throwing himself into a wicker arm-chair, he broke out into a laugh which made the hall ring, ejaculating, in the in- WHTE CAI rA iA . , 37 tervals of the cachinnation, 'Ech! Arthur, mon! Ugh! Whar--on airth-ha'e ye--studied gymnastics?" But, as his eye fell on the terrified girl who sat crouching on the step, her arm thrown around'Jeannie's neck, and trembling whilst her young mistress in vain endeavored to soothe her, his mirth subsided. "Puir lassie! dinna tak' on so: nae soul-driver shall ever buy or sell ye, Susy, or ony o' yer kith or kin. There isna gowd enow in a' Virginia to buy a tress o' yer bonnie black hair." "God bless you, Colonel Lawrence!--God Almighty bless you!" murmured old Tacey, as, approaching her 'daughter, she raised the poor girl in her arms and whispered, , You had better go home, Susan, with Paul and Tom: they will see you safe to the house." ' Not yet," cried the colonel, whom the sound of ap- proaching wheels had attracted to the door, and who recognised, in the carriage which drew up at the steps, his son Andrew and the Rev. Dr. Haddon: " we have a short ceremony to perform first." Arthur Clarence hurried out of the hall, and in another moment he was grasping the hand oi Andy Lawrence; whilst the young man, throwing his arm around Arthur's neck, gave him a welcome to old White Oak, and over- whelmed him with questions and congratulations, vow- ing that Arthur was as fine a looking fellow as he had seen in all his life. "My dear Arthur," said the venerable Dr. Haddon, "I am glad a kind Providence has brought you to us again. I thank God you are here once more, after your long absence; and, if it be God's*, will, I hope as many years will pass before you leave us again." "Come in, Andy. Give us your hand, doctor; I'm glad to see you. Where is iM3rs. Haddon and 'Helen?" inquired the colonel, as he handed his venerable pastor to a chair. 4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, A few hours had passed in pleasant social chat, in which Arthur Clarence and his foster-brother had ex- changed mutual notes, briefly illustrative of the ten years' history which'was involved in the period of their separation, when Jeannie entered the library to inform them that the servants were all gathered in the saloon, and that Dr. Haddon's services were in immediate re- quest. Without delay they repaired to the room; and Dr. Haddon, advancing a step or two from the door, was met by Paul and Sue Clarence, both dressed in a style which would shame many a "white wedding." "Children," the doctor began, whilst a solemn silence reigned through the spacious hall, "it is God's good pleasure that you should be happy; but to be happy you must be virtuous. Virtue consists in doing the duties of our several stations in life in his fear. I have my duties, Colonel Lawrence has his, and you have yours. Your happy faces are the best evidence I can have that you love your master and that he loves you." "Yes, M3assa Haddon," exclaimed a little negro, whom we have already introduced as Turvy;--"yes, Massa Haddon, and Miss Jeannie too." Scandalized by this interruption, which produced no other effect on Dr. Haddon than to spread a smile upon his' benevolent countenance, old Basil drew the urchin towards him, who had evidently spoken out involun- tarily the promptings of his heart, and Dr. Haddon pro- ceeded :- "As the foundation of all social order and virtue, God has ordained the family relation. He has, therefore, instituted marriage, and forbids man to put asunder those whom he has joined. All violent separation of the husband and wife by the hand of man, whether effected with or without the forms of law, is illegal in the sight of God. This contract cannot be annulled, so long as you remain faithful to your marriage-vows, until WHTE OAX: FARM. 39 death sunders the bonds which you are now about to seal with your lips. PaulLawrence and Susan Clarence, I therefore ask you both, in the presence of Almightyv God and these witnesses, do you promise, by the grace of God, to live together in the b6nds of holy wedlock, as Christians, and in your -allotted station to demean your- selves as becomes the servants of Jesus Christ?" "We promise," was the response, given in a subdued but distinctly-audible voice. "Then join your right hands," continued the doctor. "And now, in the name of God, I pronounce you, Paul Lawrence and Susan Clarence, husband and wife; and whom God hath joined together let not man put asunder!" - "Amen!" devoutly responded the colonel. "And let all the people say Amen!" resumed Dr. Haddon. In answer to this appeal, every voice in the assembly united in a solemn Amen; for every heart was touched with a feeling of tenderness and awe. "And now, our Father in heaven, do thou add thy Amen! Protect these thy servants. Bless them. Give them grace to fulfil their vows to thee and to one another. Remember in thy covenant-love this household. Let thy fear be before them always. Let thy love constrain them. Bless them, our Father, with thy blessing, which maketh rich and addeth no sorrow! Yea, for Jesus' sake, here let thy peace abide. Amen!!" A solemn stillness reigned for a moment over the as- sembly; but it was but a moment, and,- in response to this appeal to Heaven, a hearty Amen burst simulta- neously from the lips of the congregation, and a voice, clear and musical as a lute, began the well-known lines, in which all joined in perfect accord:- "Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing; Bid us all depart in peace; page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Let each one, thy love possessing, Triumph in redeeming grace. Lord, protect us,-Lord, protect us,- Travelling through this wilderness.' Then followed the apostolic benediction, and the cere- mony was concluded. "God bless you, Paul, and you, Susan!" said the colo- nel, extending a hand to each of them. "God Almighty bless you, dear old massa!" responded the happy couple. It would be out of our power to describe the scenes of joyous hilarity following the dismission of the assem- bly, which at once adjourned to the lawn in the rear of the mansion. Aunt Dorothy, as the mistress of cere- monies, insisted on a proper degree of order. She in- structed the groups who were crowding around Tom and Sue to go up in pairs to graduate the bride first, and then partake of some nourishment. "Congratulate, aunty, you mean," said Jeannie, laugh- ing at Clarence's efforts to control his risibles. "' Basil will help you to superintend the refreshment-table, and I will vouch for good order as the result of your com- bined efforts." "Now," said Basil, addressing his fellow-servants, on whom the events of the morning had made a deep im- pression, (for there was not a soul on the place that had not heard of the encounter with Scrub within fifteen minutes after its occurrence,) "I wants you all to fill yer glasses with dis yer lemonade, and not a soul among you is to totch it till I gives de word. Dar, you Tip, stop dat, I say, till I gives de toas'. I's gwine to gib you seberals:-and de fust is, ' Long life to Colonel Lawrence, de noble head of White Oak!' Now drink dat! You Turvy dar, keep yer brack paws off dat cake- basket. De secon' toas' am de following:-' Blessings on Jeannie Lawrence, de heart of White Oak.' Notw stop; WHTE OAK FARM. 41 don't drink till I gives de word, for I's gwine to hab two toases j'ined in one dis time. Dar now, don't be open- ing your big mouf, Nuff, for anoder, but stop till I gives de word, I tell you; and de third toas' am jes' dis yer:- 'Health. and happiness to Arthur Clarence, de right hand of White Oak;' and may de hand and de heart go to- gedder, I say, allers." This hit of the old negro's took admirably. It was received with a perfect tempest of huzzas; and when the sable master of ceremonies had obtained silence, he issued the fourth of his "toases," which "brought down the house" in a perfect uproar of enthusiasm. De fourt' toas' am jes' dis, finally, for to conclude, (for I's doubtful of de effec' of so much drinking on de young and rising generation of dis meetin';) de fourt' toas', I say, am dis:--' Hurrah for all de sons of White Oak, wedder present or absent; and may all de -Scrub oaks be dared from dis plantation, and never cumber dis yer ground.'"' A general guffaw followed this appeal; and old Basil, dismounting from the chair on which he had stationed himself, reminded his comrades "dat dere were chores to be done in de barn and de field, cows to be milked and bosses to be fed, and de sooner dat work was over de sooner de festivities of de evening might commence for we's bound to have de fiddle a-goin' by eight o'clock and-+ stop jes' at ten by my watch, 'zactly: so now de meetin' stands 'journed till dat time." And with this manifesto the old man led the way to the quarter. 4* page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CTTA PTER IV. SEVERAL days had passed without any special oc- currence, unless Arthur's receipt of a hostile message from the Hon. Mr. Scrub, by the hands of his friend Cap- tain Barber, be so regarded,-a message which Clarence treated with undisguised contempt,-when Andy Ljaw- rence, as he was familiarly called, came to White Oak at an earlier hour than usual, and proposed to ride over with him to W "I have something, Arthur, that I must show you," said Andy, entering the library, the door of which he closed and locked after him. Without further introduc- tion, he drew from his pocket a copy of the W Herald, and, placing his finger on a paragraph headed- "A Card," requested Arthur to read. It was as follows:--- TO THE PUBLIC. "Having been most grossly insulted by Mr. Arthur Cla- rence whilst visiting White Oak on business with its pro- prietor, I despatched a message by the hands of my friend, Captain Barber, demanding that satisfaction which one gentle- man, under such circumstances, has a right to expect from andther; and, that message having been treated with an affecta- tion of scorn,-a convenient and common cloak for cowardice, --I herewith publish the name of Arthur Clarence as desig- nating a poltroon who is unworthy of the notice of a gentle- man of honour. . SAMUEL SCRUB, Jr," , Well, Andy," said Arthur, calmly, after reading the paragraph, "what of it?" \ WHTE OAK FARM. 43 "What of it, Arthur? What of it? Why, man, I would wring the puppy's neck if he were to publish me 'in that style!" replied Andy, his face flushed with indig- nation. "No, Andy; that would be bestowing more labor on the case than it is worth. I think I can suggest a better plan." "What is that, Arthur?" "I shall leave my character to the vindication of a kind Providence, that has never yet forsaken me. Do you suppose that my reputation is in the power of such a man as Scrub?" said Clarence. "Arthur," resumed his friend, after a brief pause, during which he paced up and down the room in no little agitation, "you do not know the temper of our com- munity. Your course is right and manly, I admit; but it will not satisfy the public." "What of that, Andy? If it satisfies me and every man and woman of right principles in the community, why should I care for opinions based on perverse- and barbarous notions, which deserve only abhorrence and contempt?" "Arthur, I know you, I admire you. Your courage I deem it absurd to question." '"So does Mr. Scrub in his heart," said Clarence, smiling. "All very true," continued Andy; "but there are others who do not know you, and whose opinion will be influenced by this infamous card of Scrub's." "Now, Andy, I put it to you as a lawyer," said Cla- rence, laughing: "what need I care for the opinions of people who do not know me?" "And as a lawyer, I answer, you may care as little as you please,--nothing, if you are philosopher enough; but as your friend, Arthur, I feel differently. I cannot see how you can avoid a meeting. You will be assailed page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, by that fellow, or by some of the swell-mob that follow in his and Sharp's wake." "Then, believe me, I will take care of myself," replied Arthur. "My principles do not forbid me to act in self- defence, or in the protection of those who look to me as their guardian." "Then you will be involved in a street-brawl," rejoined Andy; "and that will be disreputable too." "Disreputable, certainly; but the blame must attach to the aggressor: I shall stand only on my defence." The friends were silent; and a gentle rap at the door was answered by Andy, who turned the key. "De ponies, massa, are ready," said Basil, who stood, cap in hand, at the door. "Very well; we are ready too. Come, Arthur, let us to horse." As Arthur mounted the animal which Basil had brought for his service, he noticed that a light blooded bay had been substituted for the pony which he had invariably used since his return to White Oak. "What's the matter with Gray, Basil?" he inquired. "N'othin', sir: but I didn't know, Massa Clarence, but you might maybe need Red Jacket dis morning. He is quick as a deer, massa, and nothin' can skeer him. Massa Clarence,' continued the old man, whose countenance wore an anxious look, altogether unusual for him, -( Massa Clarence," he repeated, lowering his voice, "excuse an old man; but take my advice : keep off de mnlain road, and take de way through de woods along de creek: it's a heap safer. De boys is about, though." Arthur eyed the old negro, and seemed at once to comprehend the hint. He merely nodded his assent, and, starting off with Andy, led the way in the direc- tion indicated by the faithful domestic. "Why do you take this road, Arthur? the other is nearer and better," said Andy. WHTE OAK FARM. 45 "This is more retired," replied Arthur, "and we shall be less likely to be interrupted in our conversation." They rode on in silence, Andy evidently absorbed in his own thoughts, while Clarence, suspecting from Basil's look and hint that the fears which Andy had expressed were not without foundation, kept his atten- tion on the alert. Suddenly checking his horse, Andy drew from his side-pocket a double-barrelled pistol, which he handed to Clarence, observing, as he reached the weapon tohis friend, "You are unarmed; and, believe me, Arthur, you must be prepared for unpleasant emergencies. I know your scruples, arid I honor them; but ' self-preservation is the first law of nature,' and you must take this," he added, with still greater emphasis. 'Why should you run the risk of losing a life which is valuable to others as well as to yourself?---a life upon which the happiness of our little commonwealth at White Oak is dependent?. For our sakes take it, Arthur, I implore you," continued Andy, observing the manifest reluctance of his com- panion to accept it. Arthur took the pistol, and, as though arguing the matter with his own conscience, replied,- "It may be best, after all. I do-not wish to have my hands stained with human blood; but men whose pas- sions degrade them to the level of the brute-,ameue whose trade is outrage and murder-are not to be, suffered to oppress and slay with impunity, For ,my- self it matters little; I would die rather than shed in- nocent blood. God knows, I seek no man's hurt, and I fear no man's wrath." I' Be careful, Arthur! the piece is loaded and capped," said Andy. "It seems to me," rejoined Arthur, exampining the, pistol, "this is an old acquaintance. Have you the fellow to it?" page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Trust me for that, Arthur," said his friend, laughing. "et me see if I have forgotten my craft, Andy. You know I used to be counted a crack shot. There is a knot yonder on that white oak, about six feet from the ground. Suppose. I try how near the centre I can send a bullet. Look out for Black Hawk! Basil has insured Red Jacket." "Never fear for Black Hawk. You may fire a rifle, using his head for a rest, and he will not wink," said Andy. "Here goes, then!" and, scarcely appearing to take aim, Clarence discharged his pistol at the mark, knock- ing a splinter firom the centre of the kilot. "Pretty good for twenty paces, Arthur!" exclaimed his comrade. "It is better than I can do, though my hand is not out of practice. You had better load again. Or here! let me do that. So! that is all right. Now, Arthur, put it aside for safe-keeping." And he handed the pistol again to Clarence. "You seem to think we are in some danger," observed Clarence. "Not now," replied Andy, laughing: "with your steady hand and quick eye, I am content if the odds are two to one." "Do you apprehend an attack?" said Clarence, look- ing full in his friend's eye, with a quick, searching glance. "Not immediately; that is to say, I do not know how soon, or when, it may come: but come it will, I am persuaded, and it is well to be on our guard. I am resolved to share your fortune, at any rate." ' 'Forewarned is forearmed, then," replied Clarence. At this moment, as if seized with a sudden panic, both horses stood still, and, with glaring eyes and dis- tended nostrils, peered into the thicket which skirted the narrow bridle-path on which they were travelling. t, .! WHTE OAK FARM. .47 Wheeling round, they crouched as if ready to drop with fear, snorting in perfect terror. All the skill of the riders was insufficient to enforce obedience. The animals shook with a strange, unaccountable dread, which had robbed them of all self-possession. "What can ail the brutes?" exclaimed Andy. "t o, Black Hawk, on with you!" he shouted, plunging the rowels into the side of the terrified beast. With A sud- den bound, the animal darted forward, followed by Red Jacket, and after dashing on, as though in the full ca- reer of a steeple-chase, for at least a hundred yards, they settled down into their former calmness. "This is a strange freak, Arthur!" exclaimed Andy; "and yet, provoked as I am at such foalishness, if it be not foolishness, I cannot help pitying the poor brutes. What can be the cause of this singular panic?" Wheeling his horse, Clarence replied, suiting the action. to the word, "Let us go back and find out. It may be a panther or a catamount is lurking in the thicket." "Neither, Arthur Clarence," said a voice at his side; and, turning towards the speaker, he was startled to see old Tacey standing at the entrance of one of the narrow paths by which the tangled thicket was intersected. "What! you here, Tacey? So you are the cause of all these frisky pranks, eh?" exclaimed Arthur, taking the hand which the old mulatto laid upon his saddle. "Why, then, do your horses not repeat their pranks," inquired Tacey) "now that I am close to them? No, Arthur, Red Jacket and Black Hawk have known old Tacey ever since they have known any thing. They tremble not for flesh and blood, least of all for me. See how the poor creatures will fondle me if you slacken your rein." Arthur dropped the bridle on his horse's neck, and Red Jacket, with a low, whinnying neigh, rubbed his page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, face against her shoulder, whilst Black Hawk licked the opposite arm of the old mulatto. "Humph!" said Andy, laughing; "I must try, then, to teach them to encounter phantoms without terror." "You will find no trouble now in passing the same spot, Andy. That which they saw and feared, but which you cannot see, has passed away," said Tacey. The prognostication was verified; for the animals, though at first somewhat shy in passing the point, were perfectly under control, and manifested nothing of their former fear. ' A phenomenon, I vow!" exclaimed Andy. "Well," he continued, "I suppose we must find some other solu- tion, or settle down into the convenient aphorism that 'there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy. " "Well," said Clarence, turning towards his com- panion, "I suppose we may as well bid Tacey good-by and proceed on our journey." "No, Arthur, you cannot," rejoined the mulatto, so- lemnly. "' Your way lies here;" and she pointed to an opening in the thicket, scarcely wide enough at its junction with the road to admit a single horseman; and, simply adding, "Follow me," she struck the narrow foot- way, and, after proceeding for a few minutes at a brisk pace, the path widened so as to allow both riders to travel with their horses abreast. "But whither, in the name of common sense, are you taking us, Tacey?" said Andy, somewhat impatiently; for he had followed, seeing that Arthur was disposed to humor his old nurse. The mulatto turned, and, pausing in the middle of 'the road, answered the question with an air of mingled deference and determination. "I will tell you, master. I am taking you from a road where fiends in human shape are lurking to shed WH'rE OAK FARM. 49 your young blood; though they are watched in turn by eyes as keen as the hawk's. Not a hair of your heads would have been hurt, I know. A few moments more will explain all, and, though' it ill becomes me to com- mand," she proceeded, in a lower voice, "yet, for once, give me leave to lead. I have often carried you in these old arms, and you have been with Tacey through all these thickets looking for the first ripe berries, and never yet has she led you into harm; and she never will lead where her children may not safely follow." And, striding forward, the old mulatto moved at a pace which a young man need not have been ashamed to emulate. "You are armed, I know," she resumed, in a low voice; " and it is perhaps as well. But be not rash. And now, your path lies there," she said, pointing to a steep ascent which rose from the other side of a brook; and, putting her finger upon her lips, she whispered, as they descended into a ravine which entirely concealed the horses from the road, Leave Black Hawk and Red Jacket with me, and, when you come to the brow of that hill, look down into the hollow, and there you can see and hear for yourselves." page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 60 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CTAP PTER V. TiHE point designated by Tacey lay about a quarter of a mile from their present position; and, excited by the singular adventure of the morning, they took the path designated by the old woman, and, crossing the brook, clambered up the precipitous bank, which rose by a sharp ascent to the height of a hundred feet, and, pursuing the narrow track, which led through a grove of heavy timber covered with a thick undergrowth of shrubbery and thorns, they cautiously approached the brow of the hill. The sound of voices engaged in close conversation was soon distinctly audible, and the friends, separating so as to leave a few yards between them, ap- proached near enough to see the party and to hear their words without being observed. Under the shade of a cluster of cedars, in a ravine screened from all observation from the road, four men were reclining on the ground. Two or three leathern drinking-cups, and a couple of empty champagne-bot- tles, with fragments of bread and meat and such condi- ments as give relish to a substantial luncheon, were scattered over a broad napkin, and the men, who had evidently just finished their meal, were regaling them- selves with cigars. At a short distance from them their horses were cropping the short sweett grass with which the ground was closely covered. Clarence at once recognised Scrub and Sharp, and his companion knew the two others as negro-drivers, or traders, who had been actively engaged for the last months in collecting a gang of slaves from all the WHTE. OAK FARM. 51 planters who could' be induced to part with their ser- vants. The two who were strangers to Clarence were dressed in light jean, with broad straw hats, and the belt which encircled their waist held a brace of heavy pistols, a sheath containing a large bowie-knife hanging at the side. In dress and equipments they resembled each other closely. "The girl is worth two thousand dollars at least," said Scrub. "If I could once get her to New Orleans she would bring that, every cent of it. I am told she belongs to that---Clarence; but I -have a claim on her, from my father's side. He was the guardian of that young imp; and if we can get; him out of the way, as I trust we shall before another sun sets, I have a legal adviser here, in friend Sharp, who will help. me to get every nigger that .ever belonged to old Clarence, or I am mistaken. There's that old yellow woman, the mother of my beauty and her brother Tom: I will have them all, or, -- , I'll know why!" "It's no use talking," said one of the negro-drivers, who answered to the name of Hurlow: "you can't -et 'em, I don't believe. Still, it may be worth a trial; and, if you will give me and Billy Bowler here an equal share with you and Sharp, why, we're in. If you won't, we're out; that's all." "Where there are so many pigs the swill is apt to be thin,'" rejoined Sharp, with a dry laugh. "You want too big a share, Jack Hurlow. The niggers may be worth three thousand dollars; and I think a cool five hundred dollars ought to satisfy you both."/' "I don't think any such thing. Where in the namoae of thunder will Jack Hurlow be if Andy Lawrence gets on our track? Here have I five out of fifteen in my gang of niggers that have been kidnapped, I know; and--by jingo!-I have no time to'waste here. It's getting hot already! I'd give that cool five hundred dol- page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, lars myself to have that snivelling, nosing Andy Law- rence out of the way!" "Put him out!" growled Bowler. "Not so soon done as said, my turtle-dove," replied HErlow. "He's a chip of the old block. He has the devil in his eye as surely as Arthur Clarence has him in his hands and feet,"-winking with a taunting air, in- tended for humor, and under which Scrub winced with ill-concealed rage. "That score is mine," growled Scrub, "and, mind, I will settle it: see if I don't. But it is time we were under way. Let us come to terms." "I have told you mine," said Hurlow, bluntly, " and you know 'em! So there's an end of it, say I." "ccWell, be it so," replied Scrub. ( It's a bargain." Almost petrified with horror, the friends who had heard and seen this infernal conference stood for a mo- ment in mute astonishment, and then, moved by the impulse of a common purpose, hastily retraced their steps. Emerging from the bushes on the other side, James and Donald McAlvan, each equipped with a rifle, suddenly crossed their path. Andy, suspecting that, like themselves, they had been acting as scouts, raised his finger and pressed it on his lips in token of silence; and, pointing hurriedly towards the ravine where the horses were concealed, he set off at a speed which re- quired all the muscle and wind of his comrades to equal. As they rushed down the hill, Paul and Tom, each carry- ing a rifle, came sauntering down the stream. "What are you doing here, boys?" inquired Andy. "Nothin', massa: only watchin' for de polecats dat is arter Massa Lawrence's chickens," replied the negro, with a knowing leer. ac You come home with us, boys," said Andy. "Yes, massa. De polecats is 'bout, though," replied Paul: I seed four ob' em down dar." WHTE OAK FARM. 53 Tom, the brother of the brunette whom Scrub had accosted with such rudeness, looked the very picture of concentrated wrath: there was an expression of almost demoniacal fury in his eye, and his face wore a ghastly look which betrayed an emotion he labored in vain to conceal. "Fear nothing, Tom," said Arthur Clarence. "I see you know all. Meet us at the cross-road. And remem- ber, Tom, do not fire a shot, I command you, unless I give the word. We will arrest these villains. Say you ; not so, Andy?" "Yes! In the name of God and the commonwealth, dead or alive, they lodge in ---jail to-night!" replied Andrew, as he vaulted into his saddle. "The de'il's in Andy," whispered Donald to his brother, who, with compressed lips and a gesture of emphatic approbation, pulled Donald's sleeve,exclaiming, "Awa', mon; there's nae time for clashing aboot the de'il. We maun tak' him by the horns." - And, hurrying along the footpath, they hastened to the cross-road. "God be with yod, my dear young master!" said Tacey, putting Red Jacket's bridle into his hand. Without another word, the friends, urging their horses to their speed, dashed over the road, and, passing the two McAlvans, followed by Paul and Tom, they led off to the rendezvous. In less than ten minutes they reached the point at which the path gradually tapered towards the carriage-road, and held a brief consultation as to the best mode of securing the villains and bringing them to justice. The proof of Sharp's complicity with Scrub and the kidnappers was so positive and direct that Andy felt secure of their conviction; for, in addition to Clarence's and his own testimony, he knew that the McAlvans had heard quite as much as himself, if not more than any other party. Paul and Tom, he feared, would not be competent witnesses in court; and yet, as .:', page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 THE OLIVE-BBRANCH; O, corroborative testimony, they might serve as a make- weight. Both the friends felt anxious to secure the miscreants without violence, if possible; but this they felt to be an improbable consummation of the plan. After examining their pistols, Arthur observed, in his quiet Way,- I shall content myself with breaking the arm of the. first fellow that lifts a finger to assail us. Listen, Andy'" he said, raising his hand in an attitude of attention. 'They are coming! I hear them," replied his com- panion. The clattering of hoofs in the distance was faintly audible. The sounds became more distinct, and soon rang out clearly and distinctly. In a few moments the party were seen riding two abreast,-Hurlow and Scrub in advance, followed at a short distance by Sharp and Bowler. Darting from the thicket, the friends confronted them in the road; and Andy, spurring Black Hawk, brought up full against the astonished Hurlow, and shouted, Yield, villain, or you are a dead man!" "Not dead yet!" cried eturlow, snatching a pistol from his belt and attempting to point it at his assailant. But scarcely had the pistol been disengaged from the girdle, before the arm ,that held it hung useless at his side, and the weapon dropped from his powerless hand and fell upon the road. Pointing his still smoking pistol in the face of Scrub, Arthur Clarence caught the astounded villain by the throat and hurled him from his horse to the ground d , Move a finger, sirrah, at your peril!" shouted Cla- rence, as Scrub, with a fearful oath, attempted to draw a pistol from his pocket. At the first onset, Sharp, guessing with intuitive quickness that the plot had been overheard, spurred his horse into a by-path and disappeared in the thicket; WHTE OAK FAR-M. 55 but Bill Bowler, cursing his companion's cowardice, lastened to the assistance -of Hurlow and Scrub, and, liming a pistol at Clarence, discharged it at the young man's head. - The bullet grazed Arthur's forehead and 3overed his face with blood; but the next instant the 3harp crack of a rifle rang from the thicket, and Bowler, with a scream of mingled pain and fury, rolled over his horse's crupper and fell headlong on the road. "There goes Billy Bowler to the devil!" -muttered Hurlow. "And you will follow him, villain," roared Andy, "if you move another finger!" and, observing that Hurlow was endeavoring to use his left hand, which still grasped the bridle of his horse, in order to disengage his re- maining pistol, Andy caught hold of the fellow's belt, and, snatching the weapon from his girdle, exclaimed, 'Now, sirrah, be content to let the law have due course. Here, Donald," he continued, as the Scotchman came out from the thicket, quietly wiping the barrel of his rifle, "take charge of this fellow; help him off his horse and hold him." "Aweel, Andy," replied Donald, 'll do my en- deevors to wait on his lordship. Come, mon," he con- tinued, lifting,Hurlow's foot from the stirrup; "ye rmaun get doon!" "Take that, and be -- to you!" screamed Hurlow,- dashing his foot at Donald's face and spurring his horse at the same instant. The Scotchman, however, was on his guard. Avoid- ing the blow, he still retained his grasp, and, applying his whole strength, fairly lifted Hurlow from the saddle and left him hanging with an arm around his horse's neck, whilst Andy, catching the bridle, brought Hur- low's horse round with a sudden jerk, which-completed the process of unhorsing the sturdy kidnapper. "Aweel, maister, ye're doon at last," said Donald;. page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] " THE OLIVE-B RANCH; OR, "and, by my troth, if ye'd allowed me, I wad ha'e lifted ye oot wi' less scaith to skin and banes!" Groaning with pain and rage, Hurlow lay quietly in the road, guarded by Donald. Meanwhile, Clarence had been hotly engaged with Scrub. Taking advantage of the diversion in his favor produced by Bowler's shot, and observing that Arthur reeled in his saddle from the stunning effect of the bullet, he had regained his feet, and, after snapping a pistol without effect, drew a bowie-knife from his bosom. The sharp click of a trigger in the adjoining thicket caught the attention of Clarence, and, following the sound with his eye, he saw Tom's rifle protruding through the bushes and aimed at Scrub. In another instant that wretched man would have paid the penalty of his crimes, had not Clarence shouted, "Don't shoot! leave him to me!" With a reluctant assent, Tom drew back the trigger, muttering, "I never did see such another man as my young master! There he is, his face all bloody and his head hurt, and yet he won't shoot that villain, though I know he has another load in his pistol; and he won't let me fire, either." Leaping from his saddle so soon as he found that Scrub's pistol was useless, Clarence caught the wrist of his assailant, and, with a sudden jerk, the knife flew across the road; and Arthur, contenting himself with planting his fist between the eyes of his opponent, sent him, reeling and stunned, to the ground. At this crisis James McAlvan appeared, leading the horse of Mr. Sharp, and followed by Paul. That worthy functionary, having escaped all the perils of the' en- counter, was met, as he was hurrying homeward to tell his own story, by the above-mentioned corps de reserve. "Ye'll be in hot haste, nae doot," said James, quietly seizing the bridle of Sharp's horse, while Tom and Paul WHTE OAK FARM. 57 stood before him in the road: "tye'll be in hot haste, nae doot; but ye should ken, Maister Sharp, that yer frinds is inquirin' for ye, and, by your lave, I'll put ye in the right road to find them." And, turning the horse about, James walked demurely by his side. "My good fellow,-my dear Mr. McAlvan, I should say," exclaimed the terrified man, drawing from his pocket a purse of money, which he held towards the Scotchman,-- just accept this trifle, and allow me-- '; "Ye're ower generous, Maister- Sharp, and ye're affectionate; and I'm fain to obsairve the same" replied James: " ye're increasin' in guid manners, if ye're nqt growin' much in grace. But as for the gowd, Maister Sharp, I like an honest penny; and I ken, when Saundy Lawrence gi'es me my wage, how it's come by: but ye may keep yer lucre, for I doot it's filthy, may- be, and I dinna want gowd that's coined oot of the tears i and bluid of man or woman, be they black, or brown, or white! Na, na, Maister Sharp! Ye ha'e a trifle there I wad accept though, maybe; and, as ye're so ower douce and kind the day, ye may hand me them wee irons civilly, maister, and honestly," he continued, sternly, as he observed Sharp fumbling in. his bo0om; "for if by ony improvidence they should explode in yer hand, Maister Sharp, ye might lose the brains ye live by;" and he looked significantly at the muzzle of the rifle, which, during all thls colloquy, had been pointed at Sharp's head. "Ye'll gi'e me the pestols, maister." ' The prisoner surrendered one with as good a grace as he could assume; and James, discharging it adroitly, sent,-the bullet through the rim of Sharp's hat, which flew from his head; and then, with imperturbable cool- ness, continued:--"For yer own safety, maister, (for ye see yersel' these irons are tecklish tools,) hadna ye better gi'e me the fellow to this for safe-keepin'?"P page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, , There was no answering this appeal, and James quietly took the second tool which the terrified man handed to him, and, exploding it above his head into the air, walked towards the main road with his pri- soner. Paul, meanwhile, picked up Sharp's hat, and, main- taining the most perfect gravity, held it up by the shattered rim, exclaiming,- "Look a-dar, massa! Golly! dat shot cum mighty near! Didn't hurt you head none; but it's sp'iled you roof some." And with these words, uttered in a sym- pathizing tone, Paul restored the hat to its owner. "And noo, Maister Sharp," continued James, " as ye're no likely to need that bit carving-knife the day, by the token that I've seen ye takin' yer dinner this noon, I wad advise ye" (and the muzzle of the rifle touched the prisoner's ear) "( to let me carry the carver." With a gesture of impatience, Sharp surrendered the bowie-knife, with the loss of which all means of self- defence vanished; and, finding the Scot proof against cozening and bribe, he endeavored to work upon his fears. "Boy," he said, turning to Paul, "you are witness that this man has stopped me on the highway." "By-way, ye should say," interposed the Scotchman. "And robbed me," continued Sharp, " of my weapons." "Yes, massa!" replied Paul: 4' I seed him! I did so! Shot you hat, too!" "Nae doot, Maister Sharp, he's witness to that fact, as I am mysel', and as I will testify for you in open coort whenever ye desire, maister; and, to help yer cause, I'll produce the pestols and the carver to prove that for aince in yer life ye've spoken honest truth," replied James. "You shall see, sir, that I am not to be waylaid and shot at, and my life threatened in this style, in a civilized WHTE OAK FARM. 59 country," retorted Sharp, with the well-affected indigna- tion of injured innocence. "Aweel, Maister Sharp," replied James, "I've seen and heard mony strange things the day; and I can help yer story when ye want to tell it: so ye can gi'e me notice, mon, if ye should want my sairvices." During this colloquy, Paul had with difficulty re- frained from laughing outright; but he contented him- self with following in silence and serving as a guard, without the least overt or active interference. The first object which met their sight as they struck the main road was the body of Bill Bowler. His ghastly face, hideous in death, with an expression of hatred and rage, lay upturned, whilst his hand still grasped the pistol which he had discharged at Clarence. , "So," said James, "the de'il has ta'en his ain; and, if there's nae mair lead, there's maybe a bit hemp to help thim tak' what else is his. Gi'e the de'il his ain. It's nae mair nor common right." . Without deigning even a nod of recognition, Andy directed James to tie Sharp, as Scrub and Hurlow: had been secured, by means of straps taken from their bridles. The right forearm of Hurlow was broken, and the wound had inflicted a fearful laceration, which had bled pro- fusely. A rough tourniquet, composed of a twisted hand- kerchief secured by a short stick, had been applied by Clarence, so that the blood was staunched; and the re- maining arm of the villain was fastened to his waist. Meanwhile the family at White Oak had been advised of the events of the morning by Jim, one of the colonel's waiters, whom Tacey had met on an errand to W--- ; and, turning his horse's head, the negro galloped up to White Oak. On his way,when near the quarter, he met old Nuff, to whom he hastily communicated the intelli- gence. Nuff, never distinguished for the correctness of his apprehension,. in the excitement produced by the page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, news mangled the information most sadly, and, brimful of importance as the herald of such an occasion, he shouted through the quarter, to the consternation of all who happened to be within ear-shot, "Massy on us, niggas! Run!--tell Massa Lawrence de kidnappers has got Andy and Massa Clarence, and dey's comin', wid dat Scrub, to kill all de folks at White Oak!" The scene which ensued upon this announcement may be appreciated by those who have witnessed similar out- bursts of terror. The screams of the women and chil- dren, mingled with the cries of the men,-who gathered around Nuff like bees about their queen in swarming- time, overwhelming him with questions, to which they gave the old negro no time to reply,--and the general uproar in the quarter, soon brought old Basil, with Colo- nel Lawrence, to the scene. Basil, who without the name exercised all the legitimate functions of an over- seer, outraged-by this breach of order, came running as well as his stiff knee would permit, uncertain whether it was best to cry "fire" or " murder." He therefore shouted both alternately, and, by this ill-advised addition of fuel to the flame of excitement, increased the tumult which he was anxious to allay. At once concluding that the dreaded kidnappers had set fire to White Oak and were murdering the colonel and his family, the men snatched up whatever implement was nearest, and hur- ried towards Basil, armed with pitchforks, seythes, swingle-trees, clubs, or any thing which they regarded as weapons of offence or defence; and with this motley equipment they confronted the old negro, shouting, "Whar's de fire?" "Has dey killed Miss Jeannie?" 4"Whar's Massa Lawrence?" In the midst of these inquiries, Colonel Lawrence and Jeannie rode into the quarter; and the women, screaming with fright, made all manner of additions to the story, until the colonel, who had learned the particulars from WHTE OAK FARM. 61 a far more reliable source than old Nuff, assured them that, so far from the kidnappers having taken Andy and Clarence, they were themselves prisoners. "1My dear father," exclaimed Jeannie, grasping his arm, "what can be the matter with the men? See there!" Turning his eyes in the direction indicated by his daughter, the old colonel stood for a moment in mute amazement. At the head of the motley group, Basil hitched on-. ward, limping like Captain Experience in Bunyan's 4'1Holy War," alternately giving orders to the men and berating them for the uproar:- I'rs shamed on you, niggas! Makin' such a 'sturb- ance about noffin! Hollarin' fire when dere is no fire, and skeerin' folks and bringin' disgrace on dis plantation'! Is nebber seen such' a row on dis yer place-no, nor any odder-since I was born!V "'Twarn't us at all dat hollared fire!" replied Tip, indignantly. "Well, I's glad Colonel Lawrence is dar, and Miss Jeannie; anxd I's jes' a-gwine to tell em bofe about you niggas. Wedder you's drunk or crazy I don' know; but I's shamed on you, anyhow!" roared the old negro, with an affectation of indignant scorn. The presence of the colonel and Miss Jeannie had re- stored order, and the men were disposed to be somewhat ashamed of the position in which they found themselves. "I didna know this was training-day, captain?" said the colonel, addressing Basil. "What have ye turned yer militia out for?" "I's shamed of dese niggas, colonel: 'pon my word I is," began old Basil. "Dey has made dekbiggest 'sturb- ance dey ever made befo', and I's jes' gwine to deport to head-quarters 'bout 'em." "Don't they go through their manual to yer likipng N 6 page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, captain, or what is it?" inquired the colonel. "Weel, boys, ye can put the tools away where they belong, or ye'l have a merry time of it when ye want to use them for a better purpose; and you, Basil, have the car- riage brought out for Judge Woodhull, who is at the house, and drive as fast as you can to the cross-road; and let Tip and Jim go with you; and send Sam over to the doctor's and tell him to come as soon as he can. And the rest of you go and attend to your work and be quiet." "Yes, massa! yes, massa!" was answered on all sides; and in a few minutes the quarter wore its usual aspect of good order. WHTE OAK FARM. 63 CTAPTER VI. As Hurlow had intimated in the conference with Scrub and his accomplices detailed in the last chapter, Andy Lawrence had, for some weeks past, entertained strong suspicions of the real character of the two kidnappers, and had adopted all the necessary precautions to secure their arrest should any proof of their villany be provi- dentially placed within his reach. Judge Woodhull had instructed him to take that step so soon as positive tes- timony of a reliable character should be furnished, assuming that it was as much the duty of every good citizen to aid in their capture and imprisonment as it would be to secure a murderer who had evaded the hands of justice. Andy had therefore felt no scruple in acting on the spur of the moment; and, even without any such private understanding, he would have followed the natu- ral impulse of his own heart and head, at all hazards. When the colonel arrived on the ground with his rein- forcement, he was shocked by the sight of Clarence sitting by the roadside, whilst Tacey was applying a compress of lint and a bandage to his wound. His face, pale with the reaction consequent upon the terrible ex- citement of the last hour, and the pain of the contusion, plainly indicated a degree of suffering which he strug- gled in vain to conceal. Arthur assured him, however, that the injury was slight, and that he would require but a short respite to be himself again ;';and, pointing to Hurlow, whose shattered arm excited his commiseration, he implored the-colonel to call in surgical assistance with- out delay. Approaching the wretched man, he removed page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, the strap by which the left arm of the culprit was se- cured,-for it was evident that he was no longer in a con- dition to offer any resistance,-and, after disarming the kidnapper, he was given in charge of Basil and Tom, with the understanding, that any attempt to escape would subject him to a closer restraint. Hurlow sub- mitted sullenly, muttering imprecations upon the cow- ardice of Sharp, to whose defection he ascribed all their misfortunes, and threatening to make disclosures which would give that gentleman leisure to repent of his deser- tion. He was helped into the carriage with Scrub and Sharp, Basil acting as driver. Donald and James McAlvan mounted the horses of the kidnappers, and, armed with rifles, rode immediately in advance; whilst Tip, taking in charge the animals which Scrub and Sharp claimed as their property, brought up the rear of the escort, and conducted them to the county jail, distant some three miles from the scene of the conflict, with instructions from Judge Woodhull to summon the coro- ner to take in charge the body of Bowler. Meanwhile, the colonel and his friends returned to White Oak. On the way, Andy modestly detailed the story, with which our readers are already acquainted, and Judge Woodhull complimented the friends on their tact and courage. The colonel, who had listened in silence to the close of the recital, exclaimed,- "I'm proud of ye, my lads! We're all proud of ye; and, though I say it mysel', the country owes you a debt of gratitude for this day's service!" To this remark Judge Woodhull assented most cor- dially: he regarded the case as important, because it afforded an opportunity of vindicating the community from the charge of conniving at the diabolical cruelty which the opponents of slavery were, so ready to charge upon the institution itself. Upon their arrival at White Oak, they found Jeannie WHTE OAK FARM. 65 waiting with Dorothy and the house-servants in anxious suspense. As the eyes of the lovely girl fell upon Cla- rence, the color flashed in her cheeks and then -left them overspread with a deadly pallor. Her brother Andy, throwing his arm around her neck and kissing her tenderly, whispered a few words which seemed to act as an immediate restorative. Suppressing all indi- cations of alarm, she approached Clarence, who extended his hand to her with a smile, and, claiming the same pri- vilege which Andy had exercised, assured -her -that it was only a scratch, and that a cup of Aunt Dorothy's coffee, and a lounge on the sofa, would make him as comfortable as he could desire. "Ah, Arthur," replied the blushing girl, "that swollen brow tells another tale, and we must hear Doctor Stan- ley's report before we absolve you from the durance of an invalid. Here the doctor is to speak for us, Arthur." "My dear fellow," said Dr. Stanley, approaching him, "I am rejoiced to meet you again, though pained to find you somewhat badly hurt, I fear: but come in, and we will try if we cannot bring that ugly scratch into better shape." Dr. Stanley had always entertained the highest hopes of Arthur Ularence, whom he loved for his father's sake as well as for his own. Judge Clarence had been a kind friend to him in his hour of need; ,and this, unfortunately for the doctor, was a period of very frequent occurrence. Dis- tinguished for skill in his profession, and enthusiastically devoted to his calling, he found time, in the intervals of an extensive practice, to keep himself posted in medical literature, and was one of those instances of professional ability content to encounter -the hardships of a country- practice without the least ambition of display, and with no other concern than to discharge the duties of his benevolent calling with fidelity and zeal. One science, however, Dr. Stanley never could master; E 6*- page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, and that was the science of economy. The art of "mak- ing both ends meet"--unless, indeed, they were the sec- tions of a broken bone-he never could learn; and yet he was not extravagant in his habits,-to all appearance, at least,--and he certainly possessed a treasure in a most amiable wife and a large family of lovely children. His equipage was usually of the shabby-genteel order. His horses were generally lame and lank, not for want of suffi- cient food or attention, but because he was accustomed to drive them at the top of their speed. This was the result of abstraction. The whip was continually twirl- ing between his fingers, and the reins were smacking the horse's back, whilst he was unconsciously ruminat- ing in his own mind the best mode of treatment, and combining his remedies to meet the indications of the diseases he was called to combat. His practice was large, and might have been lucrative if he had only possessed courage enough to estimate his services at one-half their real value, or determination enough to exact payment even of the very moderate demands which he made. Amiable and generous to a fault, he would give away his last dollar rather than see a patient suffer for the want of proper diet or care. Come from what cause it would, the fact was indisput- able:-the doctor was always poor. Proverbially mild in his temper, and of the most genial disposition, fiull of - good-humor, and overflowing with wit, he was univer- sally cherished, and, truth leads us to say, very often imposed upon. He had a sovereign contempt for mean- ness and quackery. Of all things in the world, the em- piricism of medical mountebanks exasperated him al- most to desperation. On one occasion he was indicted for assault and battery upon an herb-doctor, whom he had met in the sick-room of a patient, tampering with a case which was imminently critical, and whom he ejected from the premises vi et armis. The court was WHTE OAKI FARM. convulsed with laughter in the hearing of the case, for all, judge and jury alike, knew the doctor, and he manifested so much simplicity and such artless igno- rance of the forms of law, that, despite of all Andy Lawrence's efforts to put the best possible face on the affair, he was continually spoiling his counsel's plea by admissions which the law, very properly, does not re- quire the defendant, to make. In despair, Andy looked at his client, and suddenly interrupted a pathetic appeal to the feelings of the jury with this abrupt termina- tion:- "May it please the court, the defendant in this case is Dr. Stanley!" and so took his seat. Without leaving the box, the jury acquitted him, whilst bar and bench were seized with a sympathetic spasm which rendered a premature adjournment of the court indispensable. At White Oak the doctor was always most welcome. The colonel appreciated, admired, and cherished him; and the quiet generosity of Jeannie, who had the most ample means at her command, enabled the doctor's family to maintain an appearance of- respectability which was in keeping with their intelligence and re- finement, and all without any affectation of largess or munificence on her part. She seldom professed to make a present, but took care to reward the medical atten- tions to the invalids in the quarter by leaving a gene- rous fee in the hands of Mrs. Stanley, who acted as the doctor's cashier, by his own appointment. Having thus presented Dr. Stanley, whilst that wor- thy gentleman has been administering good service to Arthur Clarence, we may mention that, after earnestly enjoining upon his friends the necessity of the utmost quiet, the doctor took his leave, expressing his cordial admiration of the courage which had been the procuring cause of the misfortune. As he descended the steps, he was overwhelmed with inquiries by the servants, who, page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, though knowing from long experience that the expres- sion of a clinical opinion was hardly to be expected from Dr. Stanley, were unable, in the present instance, to curb their anxiety, or refrain from interrogating him concerning "young Massa Clarence." The countenance of old Tacey-who implored him, whilst the tears trickled down her furrowed cheeks, to tell her "if there was any danger"-moved the doctor's sympathy so far that he at once expressed his whole opinion of the case:- "Mr. Clarence is in no immediate danger from the wound. It is slight in itself; and, though the contusion is painful, I apprehend no unpleasant consequences, pro- vided he can be kept perfectly quiet. And, while I think of it, my good Tacey, he was asking for you; and I have no doubt you will be the best nurse, next to Miss Jeannie, that he could have." 4"Thank you, doctor," exclaimed Basil, who had been eavesdropping, and who, almost unconsciously, expressed his gratification at the report. "I's bound to keep dis place quiet, if dat's all you wants. So now," said he, as Jim held the horse's head so as to place the wheels of the vehicle in the right position to admit the doctor's portly person, " you's got to go about dis house, all of you, jes' like a cat dat's watching for mice; and you, Turvy, go 'way wid your ball, and take dem little brack fellers off down to dare mammies, and tell 'em dey's not to come about de big house agen till dey hears furder from ole Basil." There was no necessity for a further enforcement of the order. Even the little urchins seemed to under- stand that the restraint was a tribute of affection for Miss Jeannie; and the grateful admiration and sym- pathy which had been freely expressed by their parents -and from which they had gathered enough to under- stand that Arthur Clarence was regarded as their pro- WHTE OAK FARM. 69 tector against the dreaded kidnappers-sufficed to se- cure a cheerful obedience. Meanwhile, the arrival of the escort at W---, and the commitment to the county jail of the party in their charge, by order of Judge Woodhull, created intense excitement in the town and vicinity. Public opinion was overwhelmingly on the side of justice, and there was a general expression of congratulation that the nefarious business of the man-stealers had been so sum- marily checked. Bail was, however, offered on behalf of the prisoners; but, until an ample hearing could be afforded, it was declined, and they were placed in the custody of the sheriff. At firs't, Scrub was loud in his protestations of innocence; but Jack Hurlow, incensed at the attempt of his accomplice to extricate himself at the expense of his associates, soon silenced that person- age, and threw out intimations which, however enig- matical to others, were sufficiently intelligible to the partner of his guilt. Upon Sharp the sturdy ruffian had no mercy. Every ignominious epithet which he could heap upon the poor man was bestowed- with a lavish expenditure of curses on his cowardice; and all the cajoling and coaxing of the crafty lawyer only served to fan the fire which blazed in EIurlow's soul with all the fury of unquenchable hatred and contempt. Exasperated by Hurlow's insolence, he was at last thrown off his guard, and retorted with a menace of disclosures which would be sufficient to consign his re- viler to the gallows. Recriminations followed in'quick succession, and enodfgh was elicited from their own, statements to justify the declinature of bail under any considerations, until time should be afforded to follow out the clue which they had put into the hands of justice. The indications of the public sentiment were at once apparent in the tone of the press. The W---- Herald, page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 ' THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, which had inserted the insolent card of Scrub, contained in its next issue a most humble apology, and commented in its editorial columns upon the courage and forbearance of Arthur Clarence in terms of the highest commendation. Whilst expressing the highest admiration for the coolness and bravery of Andy Lawrence, and of all concerned in the capture of the gang, whom it denounced as a dis- grace to the whole South, it was especially complaisant in its allusions to young Clarence. The neighboring families, for- miles around, were represented at White Oak on the evening of the very day of the occurrence, and the colonel was over- whelmed with verbal and written congratulations, whilst the kindest inquiries were made respecting" Arthur Clarence. The report was circulated-and gained strength, like all similar rumors, as it travelled -that he had sustained dangerous and even fatal in- jury in the encounter. Old Basil stationed himself at the gate, afnd, in the politest possible manner, informed the visitors who came to make inquiries and to pay their respects to the colonel, "dat Dr. Stanley had left de most 'splicit orders to keep Massa Clarence jes' as quiet as dey could; and dat de doctor hoped dar had been no discussion of de brain, but de po' young gem- man had received a severe confusion on de head; and," putting his hand to his head with a polite bow, "he had been 'structed to say to de gemman dat it was Dr. Stanley's peticular bequest dat de young massa should be 'sturbed as little as possible." Old Basil was a general favorite; and he had the good sense, whilst wearing all the dignity of a good reputation, never to assume airs that might have been offensive even to the least fastidious. His apologetic explanations were, therefore, respectfully received; and, with a smiling "Very well, old man," the visitors passed the faithful warden. WHTE OAK FARM. 71 It was late before he left the post which he had with instinctive tact assumed; and, when the last of the transient guests had taken his leave, the old man, after waiting in order to be prepared in case of any other arrival to publish the doctor's caveat, drew from his pocket a padlock, which he fastened upon the latch of the gate and locked it, observing, "Dah! now I's gwine hum; and, if de folks wants to know any mo' about dis yer -and how dey does at de house, all dey's got to do is to ax sum oder time; but fust I's gwine to ax furder 'tic'lars myself about Massa Clarence:" and, so saying, he made his way to the house. It was fast verging towards midnight. The clear blue sky, upon which scarcely a cloud was visible, was studded with the glorious stars, which threw a soft glimmering upon the darkness. The moon had long since gone down, and the deep silence was broken only by the heavy footfall of the negro, who walked leisurely towards the house. He had already reached the'first step of the portico, when the sudden wailing of an owl, which was perched upon the lattice-work, startled the old man; and its prolonged and mournful cry fell upon his ear like a voice from another world. With an ex- clamation of "Who dar?" the negro drew back, and, to his dismay, observed that the ill-omened bird fluttered from its perch and alighted upon the open window of the room occupied by the invalid, and there again poured forth its shrill and plaintive moan. Covering his face with his hands, the poor man dropped upon his knees, and, with a heavy heart, implored the interven- tion of Almighty power to avert the evil of which he regarded this as a portent. At the window, by the dim light which glimmered in the apartment, he saw the tall figure of Tacey, who had driven the bird away, and, in a low voice, trembling with anxiety' and appre- hension, he inquired,- page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 THE O LIVE-BRANCH OR , "Ole woman, how Massa Clarence?" "He is asleep," whispered Tacey; " but he has a high fever, and is all the time talking to himself." "Now, de Lord help us!" groaned the old man, as he turned from the house; "dar's trouble, Ps afeard." Musing with his own thoughts, he strode towards his home in the quarter, muttering over to himself the expe- rience associated with the startling omen which had disturbed him. "Trouble! I knows it! Pore Miss Jeannie! Pore ole massa! Don' I know when my pore little Tamar was sick, jes' de night afore she died, dare was dat same screech-owl, or anoder like it, dat hollared under de window? I knowed den 'twarn't no use! De message had come. Den, dare was de time agen when de cholera was 'bout, and I was de sickest chile I ever was: dar was de screech-owl agen, and here I is yet. De message come dat time too, but ole Basil warn't ready for it, and I's about yet. Well, de good Father in heaven knows every thing, but dis ole man don't. I's gwine to pray, and den wait and see; but dar's trouble coming, I's 'feard!" Still, old Basil prudently kept his fears to himself, and, when interrogated by Tamar, who was anxiously wait- ing his return, he answered her inquiries by stating the first part of his information :--"I's bin 'nformed he's 'sleep! So don' ax me no mo' questions 'bout it, ole woman, but jes' go to sleep you'self " WHTE OAK FARM. 73 CHAPTER VII. THE next morning dawned upon the anxious watchers in White Oak, and found them full of sorrow and alarm. At daybreak Tom had- been despatched to request the immediate attendance of Dr.,Stanley, who lost no time in repairing to the side of his patient. He was pained to find that symptoms of inflammation of a most dan- gerous character had already supervened; but, with the tact and energy of long experience, he endeavored to meet the indications which excited his most serious ap- prehensions. The sun was just rising when the doctor prepared to leave the hospitable mansion of his old friend. The colonel met him, and, taking his arm, led him towards the library, groaning, as he walked slowly with him, "My puir Arthur!" and then, overcome with the tide of strong emotion which he had resisted in the presence of others, he bowed his head, and, covering his face with his hands, sat down in silence. After pacing up and down the floor for a few moments, the doctor, whose heart, with all its training amid scenes of suffering, had abated nothing of its native tenderness, endeavored to rally him:- "We gain nothing, colonel, by trying to cross a bridge before we come to it," said he, kindly; "but we may lose the advantages which Providence offers by want of presence of mind, self-possession, and fortitude. Let us hope for the best: it will be time enough to mourn' when the worst has come. Arthur's symptoms are not pleasant," he continued, as if speaking to himself; " but his youth and vigorous constitution are all in our favor. 7 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, I wonder whether mental anxiety has not something to do with this strange aggravation. There may have been some slight concussion of the brain: Andy tells me for a moment he seemed to reel in his saddle, as though stunned; but " "Ye're right, doctor; mental anxiety has much to do with his suffering. He has been like a man staggering under a weary burden, almost ever since he came home," said the colonel. "Well," resumed Dr. Stanley, calmly, " that is a pity: but still, these symptoms may be but transient, after all. I have no wish to deceive you, Colonel Lawrence; that, you know, is not my habit; and I tell you frankly, whilst I acknowledge the case to be somewhat critical, I have the fullest confidence that, with the blessing of Provi- dence, Arthur will soon be well." The earnest tones of that honest voice seemed to ani- mate the colonel with new hope; and, rising from the ottoman on which he had thrown himself, -he took the doctor's hand, and, pressing it warmly, replied,- "Stanley, I believe you. M3y fears for others must not make a coward of me. Let us have faith in God. Ye mind it is written, ' the prayer of faith shall heal the sick,' and I know there's not a cabin in White O/ik from which prayer, fervent and trustful, has not gone up to God in his behalf. I will not doubt: God will restore him." The doctor withdrew, and, after promising to be back to breakfast, drove down to the quarter, to see an aged servant of the colonel's, at the request of Jeannie. The quarter was distant about a quarter of a mile from the mansion, and the road lay through an avenue of lofty trees of sycamore, tulip-poplar, and white-oak; and then, descending towards a rivulet, crossed by a plain but substantial bridge, it rose to the brow of an emi- nence, on which the houses of the negroes were built. WHTE OAK FARM. 7-5 -these were so arranged as to afford at least four rooms to each family. An air of neatness and thrift pervaded the entire settlement. The front of each tenement was adorned with a tasteful little porch, and the clusters of the prairie-rose and the coral-honeysuckle were twined with the clematis and the deep-green leaves of the Mexi- can vine, over the lattice-work with which it was en- closed. Seated on these porticos, with the air of perfect contentment, here and there an old negro might be seen, his white hair contrasting stronglywith his sable countenance, regaling himself with the fumes of a to- bacco-pipe, sometimes so short as almost to endanger the prominent feature which overhung the glowing bowl. The women were busy in preparing their morning meal; and the younger members of the household, who were old enough to make themselves useful, were carrying water or wood, whilst their mothers occasionally issued- from the front-doqrs to quicken their speed, or urge the dilatory by some characteristic -word of admonition or rebuke. In the rear of each house was a garden of respectable dimensions, which every family was expected to cultivate as their own. The neat hedge-rows of goose- berry or currant-bushes, or sometimes a light trellis supporting a line of carefully-trimmed raspberry-plants, j served as the dividing boundary between most of these kitchen-gardens, which were sufficiently ample to admit. of the cultivation of several varieties of fruit, besides vegetables and a profusion of flowers. A double row of large apple-trees, which were just shedding their blossoms, screened the front of the quarter from the searching rays of the afternoon sun, and their heavy shade threw a delicious coolness around the dwellings in the earlier hours of the day. Seats were arranged around some of the trunks, adapted, with a nice sense of comfort, to the position and shape of the trees which served as the backs of these natural lounges. These page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 THE' OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, were the thrones of the more ancient tenants of the quarter, whose age absolved them from all labor except- ing such as was self-imposed; and they furnished also convenient hiding-places for the smaller juveniles, who squatted under them when playing at hunk-a-dee or hide-and-seek. The rear of the quarter was skirted by a grove of old pear-trees, which extended its entire length, and the fruit of both orchards, as the property of the quarter, was equally divided in the season among its occupants by Basil, whom the negroes familiarly styled 'Old Boss." The fruit of the gardens was sub- ject to no such division, but was used or sold by each proprietor at his own pleasure. Cherry-trees, garnished with tempting clusters of may-dukes, ox-hearts, carna- tions, morillos, &c., were scattered, with other fruit-trees, over the little plantations, upon which the servants of Colonel Lawrence exercised the most absolute right of ownership. As the doctor approached the quarter, he was met by two or three little fellows, who came running to hold Massa Stanley's horse, or to tie him to the most conve- nient hitching-post; and his entrance into the settlement was hailed with expressions of grateful respect. The first inquiry was one which touched the doctor's heart, because it indicated the cordial sympathy between the quarter and the mansion. Their master's grief was theirs. Every countenance was saddened by the report that Massa Clarence was not so well, and every voice invoked a blessing on the family at White Oak. "You Nancy, run tell big Sal de doctor's here, and let her put de room to rights afore he gits dar. Now run! Oh, Nancy! whar Nancy?" exclaimed Aunt Ta- mar, who, as the better half of Basil, claimed something of a corresponding supervision over the female members of the sodality. "Now, it is jes' too bad! Whah Nancy gone to?" WHTE OAK FARM. " "She gone down to de pump for to tote water. Dar she comes," replied a little girl, whom Tamar at once deputized as a substitute. "Here, you Polly; run, gal! Now, make 'aste an' tell Aunt Sallie de doctor's here, chile. Run every step o' de way; you hear? Min' now you don' tumble down and hurt you'self; dat's a good gal." And, as the messen- ger put off at good speed, Aunt Tamar, with her best curtsey, invited the doctor to sit down, and modestly inquired if he would allow her to make him a cup of coffee, and to have a little breakfast ready for him by the time he got through with Old Leff. Doctor Stanley had the most cordial respect for Aunt Tamar's culinary powers; he had often tested and appreciated them, and he was in a mood to be profited by them; but he was under a prior engagement, and he accordingly stated the fact, and satisfied the good woman at once, by adding that he felt anxious to get back to White Oak as soon as possible, because he thought he might be needed there; but he would remember her as owing him a breakfast some other morning. "Old Leff," by which, nanftethe patient was familiarly called in the quarter, though his proper name was Liv- ingston, had passed his eightieth year, and until recently had enjoyed life as much as most men do at his age. Earthly care he had none. He was content with his lot. Devoted to Colonel Lawrence as his earthly master, and deeming it no hardship to render the reasonable service which in his better days had never been oppres- sive, he still rejoiced that he was the Lord's freeman. In his youth he had been taught to read and write; and the leaves of the large quarto Bible which lay on a little stand beside his bed gave evidence of constant use, in the finger-marks which soiled their edges. Leff was a happy soul. Always cheerful, he had been a welcome visitor in every house among his brethren, and had given 7 page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 THE- OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, counsel and comfort in many a season of perplexity and trial, sharing their sorrows when in affliction, and their happiness when all was well with them. With touching humility he spoke of the Lord's great goodness to him, and of his own unworthiness; but, placing a childlike trust in the atoning blood, he walked with his God and Saviour, and talked with him as with a familiar friend. His was the perfect love which casteth out fear. His face beamed with joy too big for utterance, as, in answer to the kind inquiries of the doctor, he said,- * "Doctor, thank you; you's always been good to me: but I's goin' home." "Poor Leff!" said Doctor Stanley, as he laid his finger on the negro's wrist and watched his labored respira- tion; "it does indeed look so." "Poor Leff!" repeated the old negro. "No, doctor; 'Poor Leff' no more. I'm rich Leff now! God bless you, Massa Stanley!" Is it not ordered, in the mercy of a kind Providence, that the approach of death upon the sufferer is often so gradual that the nearest friends who have been the most anxious watchers of his advance are often the last to notice the indications which the unpractised eye of a stranger comprehends at a glance? The daughter of Leff, although fully aware that her father could not last long, was surprised at the announcement, the truth of which became at once apparent to herself so soon as her attention was roused to the reality before her. She had been trained in the same school in which her father's Christian experience had been earned. She had learned patience and submission. The manifest failing of her father's strength during the last months had taught her to anticipate that hour of sorrow which seemed now so near at hand; and yet, when the announcement was made, she was for a moment overwhelmed. Recovering her self-control, she attended to the directions of Dr. WHTE OAK FARM. 79 Stanley with a degree of alacrity which seemed to imply self-censure for not having sooner observed that they were needed. The restoratives which were promptly applied buoyed up the sinking frame of the old negro; and, before the doctor left, he had rallied somewhat under their influence. "Doctor," said Leff, "you say Massa Clarence not so well to-day. I's heard de boys tell about him, and I's prayed for dat young man. I believe it is de Lord's will to spar! him; but I's goin' home, doctor, and something tells me dat when' you cum, to de quarter agen you'll find de window of old Leff's house darkened, and nothin' left of him but dis ole shell. Leff will have gone away from his kind Massa Lawrence, and from dear Miss Jeannie, and all de folks about here, and he'll be with Jesus, who is the Master of us all." The sobs of his daughter interrupted the old negro for a moment; and he paused, as if musing in silence upon the change which he awaited with joyful con- fidence. "Massa Stanley, you will take old Leff's love to ole massa and Miss Jeannie, and all de folks at de big house. I know dey has sorrow at home, or else I would have sent for'em before. Tell 'em dat when I gets. to my blessed Master in heaven I'll thank him a thousand times for giving me so kind a master upon earth. Tell 'em to be kind to dare pore colored people as dey always have been, and de Master above will always be kind to them." Pressing the bony hand of the dying negro, Dr. Stan- ley was preparing to leave the room; but Leff drew the hand of the kind physician towards him, and, raising it to his lips, said, with a voice tremulous with deep emotion, "Oli! Massa Stanley, do you love the Lord Jesus Christ? Dere's-none like him in all de world.' God bless you! and he will bless you, for you's kind to pore colored 'e , page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, people, and to pore white folks too: but take dese words of old Leff wid you, and be sure you love our great kind Master in heaven." The visible approach of death awakens a chord of sympathy that vibrates as powerfully to no other ap- peal. The news was soon circulated through the quarter that old Leff was dying. The men paused at their labor in the field, and spoke of him as a good old man; and even the little children were awed into momentary silence, and stopped in their career of mirth and play. A group of solemn faces crowded around the cabin- doors. The quarter was hushed in unusual quiet; and when the doctor, with a faltering tongue, delivered the dying man's remembrance to his master and the family at White Oak, both the mansion and the cabin felt that awe which drops into the soul when the angel of the grave spreads his wing over the roof. Scarcely half an hour had passed since the doctor's departure, when the well-known footfall of Jeannie's pony, as it rang upon the flinty road, fell upon the ear of the dying slave. His face brightened with a glow of grateful joy. Raising himself upon his elbow, whilst his daughter supported him with pillows, he turned to the open Bible at his side. His hand moved over the page; and, as Jeannie entered the room, he turned towards her with a look of earnest affection, and, with his finger pressed upon the leaf, exclaimed, ' Oh, Miss Jeannie, no time for any words but dese!-Read, dear missy, what de Lord teach David to say!" With a clear and distinct utterance, the gentle voice of the kind girl poured its soothing tones into the heart of the dying man, in the precious words:- "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leatdeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's WHTE OAK- FARM. .8 . sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art wthb me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou\* preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow -me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever!" The lips of the negro moved in unison with the voice which had so often solaced his weary spirit, and, with the word ' forever," they ceased to speak; for the spirit that gave to the tongue its utterance had returned to the bosom of its God and Father. 4 page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 THE OLIVE-BRANOH; OR, CHAPTER V111. DEATH is a mighty Leveller. All distinctions of rank and relation wilt down under his hand. The power and pomp of station shrivel and curl under that icy touch, like the green leaves of the early spring before the un- timely frost. Master and slave are equal now. ' The rich and the poor meet together." But death breaks down only those whom the world claims as its own, and who are proud of the honors which make them great in its esteem. All others it lifts up and ennobles. Yes, death is a mighty Exalter, too. It strips the humble Christian of all infirmity. It cancels all the bond of sin and abolishes its last iota. It pays the last debt. It puts the title-deeds of the purchased inheritance into the hand of faith, and ushers the dying into its pos- session. "All things are yours, whether life or death." Sin can change a blessing into a curse; but grace trans- forms the mighty curse into a blessing, and the last enemy into a friend. "He is at rest now," said the daughter of the old negro, as she gently withdrew the arms that' had sup- ported him in his last encounter, and let the white head fall back upon its pillow:-"-He is at rest now;" and she sat down by the bedside and covered her face with her apron. There was no outhurst of passionate grief. The cabin was hushed. The tick of the old clock sounded out as clearly as though it had been midnight. So absorbed was that little group in their own thoughts that they were scarcely conscious of the presence of WHTE OAK FARM. 83 Colonel Lawrence, until the deep, earnest tones of the old man's voice startled them with the words:- "Write, Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.. Yea, saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.'" "Let me. die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." Whispering a word in the daughter's ear, Jeannie drew down the curtain and let it drop over the window, and, taking her father's hand, .they withdrew in silence. Diverging from the road, they struck into a path which wound through- a grove of heavy timber, passing the neat little chapel in which public worship was cele- brated on the afternoon -of every Sabbath. The bell which summoned the worshippers was tolling- in token ' that a soul had passed away. In the neat graveyard, enclosed with a substantial fence, every picket in its place and whitewashed with the greatest care, the hillocks were scattered, each surmounted with a plain marble slab, bearing the name and the date of the birth and death of each tenant. In the centre of the ground was a plot containing the family-vault, in which Judge Clarence and his wife and their ancestors for a century and a half were buried. A plain, altar-shaped monu- ment stood in the centre, and the sward around was covered with the blossoms of flowering plants and shrubs. Next to this was the grave of Jeannie's mother. No bars of wood or iron separated the-sepulchre of the mistress from the graves of her servants. Space unoccu- pied as yet spread on either side of that grave; but all around it the sleepers rested well in their narrow beds; for "the rich and the poor meet together; the Lord is the Maker of them all." Not one of those mounds was unadorned. No tall monuments were there to mock the living with their garish but empty parade, but clusters of pansies, or "heart's-ease," mountain-pinks, and roses, page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, loaded the air with fragrance, and gave to the burial- place the cheerful aspect of a garden of flowers. The colonel and his daughter, leaving their horses at the gate, walked through the rural cemetery. The place was congenial with their thoughts; and, leaning upon her father's arm, Jeannie followed silently to the spot to which she had often accompanied him. They stood by her mother's grave. With head uncovered, his thick, white hair shading his brow, the old man paused as was his wont, and, bending down as though reading the in- scription on the tablet, he whispered, "'All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come :'- but I shall not have to wait long. Meanwhile, let me have grace to fulfil my duty to the living, that I may be ready to take my place with these pious dead." "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living!" responded Jeannie. "Yes, Jeannie, love; 'she is not dead; she sleepeth:' and they sleep well who sleep in Jesus." "The body sleeps, but the spirit wakes; knowing no weariness, it needs no repose." "Therefore," said the old man, taking up the thought and raising his eyes to heaven,--"therefore are they before God, and serve him day and night in his temple. They hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither doth the sun light on them, or any heat; but the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them to fountains of living waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." The evening of the ensuing day was devoted to the funeral of old Leff. The servants from several of the surrounding plantations who could obtain permission to be present joined the humble procession which formed at the cottage in the quarter. The walnut coffin, plain but neat and substantial, was placed upon a bier in front WHTE OAK FARM. 85 of the house; and, after a few appropriate sentences from the Scripture had been read by Dr. Haddon, the first line of a favorite hymn, with which all present seemed to be familiar, was sung with musical precision by the precentor, and every voice joined in the words:- "Hear what the voice from heaven declares To those in Christ who die: Released from all their earthly cares, They reign with him on high. {' Then why lament departed friends, Or shake at death's alarms? Death's but the servant Jesus sends To call us to his arms. "If sin be pardoned, we're secure; Death has no sting beside: The law gave sin its strength and power, But Christ, our ransom, died. "The graves of all his saints he bless'd When in the grave he lay;- And, rising thence, their hopes he raised To everlasting day. "Then joyfully, while life we have, To Christ our life we'll sing: Where is thy victory, b grave? And where, O death, thy sting?" The last notes of the song floated away, and, borne on the still evening air to the mansion at White Oak, sounded sweetly in the ear of the faithful nurse, who refused to leave the invalid, whose fitful slumber she watched with all a mother's tenderness. There was a moment of solemn stillness ere the car- riers lifted the bier, and, preceded by Colonel Lawrence and his family, conveyed it to the place of burial. The fellow-servants of the deceased followed, dressed in their 8 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, best attire; and, as the procession entered the gate of the cemetery, the words of the Prince of Life at the grave of Lazarus filled every heart with holy emo- tions :- "I am the Resurrection and the Life. He that be- lieveth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die!" Then followed that expression of holy confidence, (Rom. vi. 8-11:)--"(Now, if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him: knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him. For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." The coffin was lowered into the grave, master and servants standing with uncovered head as it sank out of sight into the narrow house, and the voice of the preacher accompanied the sound of the sprinkled earth as it fell upon the coffin-lid:--"Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes." In a few well-chosen words, the doctor alluded to the character of the faithful negro, and to the loss which the community he was addressing had sustained in his re- moval. He reminded them that true nobility consists always in adorning our station in life with the duties appropriate to it; and that a holy example gilds every relation with a lustre that no worldly honor can equal. Whatever that station may be, in itself it is but a secondary matter; for it is temporal and transient. "Let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was called. Art thou called being a servant? care not for it: but if thou mayest be made free, use it rather. For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the WHTE OAK FARM 87 Lord's freeman: likewise also he that is called, being free, is Christ's servant :" 1 Cor. vii. 20-22. "Children," said he, "you are the Lord's freemen, though you are the servants of an earthly master, who loves you; and he is himself the servant of the Master in heaven, who loves all who abide in their calling with God. Soon masters and servants will meet together in this ground: .side by side, they will 'await She coming of the Prince of Life. HE will change these bodies and make them like his own, and then shall we be ever with the Lord. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" The grave was filled up, and the congregation re- mained standing till the process was complete; and, ere they separated, the same voice which had led' in tho former song struck the key-note of Dundee, and all joined in the hymn:- "Death cannot make our souls afraid If Glod be with us there; We may walk through its darkest shade And never yield to fear. "I could renounce my all below If my Creator bid, And run, if I were call'd to go, And die as Moses did. "Might I but climb to Pisgah's top And view the promised land, My flesh itself would long to drop, And pray for the command. "Clasp'd in my heavenly Father's arms, I would forget my breath, And lose my life amid the charms Of so divine a death." Many were the earnest inquiries respecting Arthur Clarence, and the expressions of cordial desire to render page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, any service that might be. in their power, which were addressed to Colonel Lawrence and Miss Jeannie by the servants, both male and female, as they crowded around their beloved master and his daughter. He answered their inquiries with courteous kindness, but said that he had no control over Arthur's case, for he was in charge of the doctor and his nurses; but he was glad to find they were in no danger of suffering for want of kind assist- ance. "And, now," said he, as, taking the arm of Dr. Haddon, he turned from the open gate of the cemetery, "may God bless you-all, and grant that when these bodies are laid yonder we may be found worthy to meet old Leff in heaven!" WHTE OAK FARM. 89 CItAPTEIR IX. THOSE who have made the experience can appreciate the anxiety with which the varying symptoms of danger- ous sickness are watched, when the cherished object of the heart's best affection is trembling on the verge of the grave. The storm which tries the strength of the fasten-. ing that binds the anchor to the ship and keeps it moored in safety is not watched by the sturdy seaman with more anxious solicitude, when he knows that the fate of the noble vessel, with all its goodly freight of human hope and happiness, is suspended on the strands of that strained and quivering cable. Even the fortitude of a tried Christian faith needs its best anchor in such an hour; and nothing but that good hope, the anchor of the soul that grapples with sure and steadfast hold the divine promise, is able to sustain the spirit when tossed with tempests of anxiety and fear. Colonel Lawrence uttered a simple truth when he declared his conviction that prayer, fervent and trust- ful, was-coming up from many an humble heart in be- half of his young friend. Those prayers were heard. The crisis was -safely passed; but several weeks were spent before Arthur Clarence was able to leave his room; and, so soon as his strength permitted, Dr. Stanley ad- vised his removal to the White Sulphur Springs, where, he felt assured, his system would speedily rally from the shock it had sustained. The oldest son of Colonel Lawrence had left Georgia, at the urgent solicitation of his father, to meet Dr. Stanley in consultation, and had made arrangements -8- page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 10 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, . with a medical colleague to leave his practice in his hands for the summer season. The arrival of Alexander, or Saundy, (as his father called him,) was an event which created no ordinary excitement at White Oak. The servants on the plantation felt that they had a deep in- terest at stake. Alexander, who bore his father's name, was regarded by them as the probable heir of the estate with which they were identified; and though the older members of the fraternity, who had known Saundy from his early youth, had always been attracted by the frank, impetuous generosity of "young massa," they were na- turally anxious to learn what effect a residence in the Far South had produced upon his habits and character. Many were the anxious inquiries in the quarter touching his disposition and demeanor; but these were soon satis- fied. The day after his arrival at White Oak, Saundy strolled all alone through the fields, and, with the frank- ness of his early youth, laughed and talked with his old playmates, inquired about their health, their families, and all their affairs, and fairly scandalized old Basil by asking a number of them, who were hoeing corn, to go down with him to the quarter and introduce him to those who were not acquainted with him. The old man stood with a hoe in his hand, ready to do execution upon sundry weeds which disfigured the rows; and, seeing the ranks thinned by desertion, as the hands came up to their young master, although delighted with the affa- bility of Saundy, he seemed to be in somewhat of a strait, from his anxiety to "git frough de fiel' afore night." Saundy was a staunch admirer of the veteran negro, and, by way of humoring the old man's mood and drawing him out, he hailed him with a laughing shout, as the field-hands hurried before them to the quarter:- "Look after your boys, old boss, for I believe they would rather run ahead of me than hoe corn." "Whah you goin', massa, wid all dem fellers?" said WHTE O, AK FA M. 9] Basil, answering his laugh with a face shining with humor. "Dey's bin waitin' for you all de mornin', I xpec, for I can't git no work out of 'em dis day, no- how. Den, afore long, de ole colonel come, and de fast word 'll be, Basil, whah's de boys?' 'Well,' says ole Basil, 'Massa Saundy bin here, colonel;' and den de ole gemman he say nothin', only he look jes as he used to when we had bin out 'possum-huntin' in de fall with you and Andy all night, and he find it out next mornin' and cum to me to ax 'bout it, and old Basil's got to stan' it then." And the old negro shrugged his shoulders as if greatly concerned for the consequences of his dereliction. "Well," replied Saundy, "and then, I suppose, he gives you a dozen dry cuffs to keep you in better order.' The face of the old negro assumed an epression of indignant scorn, and, drawing himself up, he replied, with earnest warmth,-- "Massa Saundy, you knows no man, white or black, ever touched my back in all de thirty years I's bin wid Colonel Lawrence! No man ever cuff me. I b'lieve it would jes' break my ole heart right off." "Excuse me, my dear fellow," said Saundy; "I did not mean to hurt your feelings. I intend, if ahll goes well, to have a rare time hunting with you this fall, and I will stand good for the old colonel. Come along, can't you? I wantAunt Tamar to give me a lunch, for I'm getting hungry. I have been riding all through along the stubble-fields, and they look as if you had had a fine crop of wheat." "A mighty fine crop!-an extr'or'nry crop!-de best crop we's had on dis yer place for many a day. , And de corn looks well too," continued old Basil, as, drawing on a thin coat, h "Walked at the side of his young master. "Every thing looks well";.Basil: you keep your fences in nice repair, and your cattle are uncom monly fine., page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, You have been changing your stock since I was here." "Yes, we has so: dere's not a horn on dis place but Devonsheer i" "Excepting the rams and wethers, I suppose," re- joined Saundy. "Of cou's' I doesn't 'elude dem. But has you seen de sheep, Massa Saundy?" "I have, and a glorious flock they are." "Well, dat's so!" exclaimed the old negro; " and de mutton is mighty good too, and de wool is warm in winter, and Massa Lawrence never pinches either de belly or de back of any chile on dis yer place; and if any nigger in White Oak is sulky, den he don' know when, he's well Off." I "I wish in my heart," replied Saundy, with a sigh, "that all your people were as well cared for in Georgia as you are here." Yes, massa; but I's had 'sperience dar meself, and times is mighty hard down dar, in some parts," replied the negro. "And what's de consekence? Der's no 'fection dar. Some masters treat de pore niggas as if dey warn't no better nor hogs or horses, and de servants is slaves and jes' hates de masters worse a grea' deal dan dey hates de debbil, and both is 'feard of one an- oder, and dey gits a kind o' desper't. But, Massa Saundy, dere's not a servant in all White Oalk dat wouldn't stand in de way of a bullet aimed at any one of Massa Lawrence'g family. Dar's Miss Jeannie! De little children knows de sound of Pet's foot, and dey's all a-pokin' der brack heads out of de do' when she comes along, and dey loves de very groun' she walks on, jes' kase she's allers kind to 'em, and she don't make no fuss 'bout it neider: comes a kinder nat'ral." '"Yes, I believe it all, Basil. Indeed, I know it," said the young man, thoughtfully. WHTE OAK FARM. 93 "You won't be 'fended at an ole man, M assa Saundy, for jes' speakin' what is in his mind?' continued Basil in a tone of apology. "Say on, Basil," replied Saundy, who was interested in the old negro's straightforward frankness. "You won't take it amiss in me that I jes' says what I thinks to you, massa? I's allers done so. When you was a little chap, no bigger dan dat Turvy dar, I used to tote you on my back when you went wid me in de woods arter squir'ls and wild pigeons; dat' was afore massa mistook me for a wild turkey and sent a bullet frough my knee, and in dem days I could walk a heap better nor I can now; and I's never forgit one day how you cried when I told you how my old massa in Georgy used to treat us pore colored folks, and I showed you de seams in my ole back, dat was cut wid a raw hide, kase I helped a pore yallow woman on her feet when massa had knocked her down for being sick, and dat night she had a baby dat died a-bornin', and she died herself nex' day. Colonel Law. rence seed him when he knocked her down and when he beat me, and I declar' he looked as if his heart would break. Well, what was de consekence? Dar was black Jim,-pore Nancy's husband dat died: he jes' ran right off, and dey set de bloodhounds arter him, and dey tracked him into a swamp, and dar dey cotched him and brought him back to ole massa. Oh! I's never for- git how Jim looked! I allers believed de pore man was clar out of his mind. Hie said nuffin,--not0a word; but he jes' picked up a hatchet and drove it down massa's skull as if it had been a chunk o' wood; and den, oh, my Father in heaven!" exclaimed the old ne)g;i - sthe big tears coursed down his swarthj cheeks, -I ftrimbleto dis day when I thinks of it,--how some of de white folks took Jim from de sheriff, and tied him to a stake and burned him till he was dead. Massa Lawrence, I doesn't justify Jim. He shouldn't have killed massa. He should page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] 4 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, jes' have left it all to de Lord, who says, ' Vengeance is mine;' but de pore man was out of his min'. Besides, he was as ignorant as a headen. Massa nebber taught any of us nothin' good: He never said a word about Jesus Christ, 'xcept when he was swarin' and tarin' like a mad bull. Well, de estate was all sold; and Massa Lawrence bought all de slaves, young and old. Lord bless him! He paid for my old daddy and mammy, when dey was good for nothin' but to eat hog and ho- miny and smoke dere 'bacco-pipe, and he moved away from Georgy and brought us here to old Virginny !" Here Basil paused, and, looking up in his young mas- ter's face, he saw the tears running down his cheeks. "Massa Saundy," said he, " now, may our great Master in heaven bless you ! De boys was talkin' about you only last night, and dey was in a heap o' trouble to know wedder your livin' in Georgy hadn't made you a kind o' hard-hearted. And says I, 'Go 'way, niggas! go'way! Massa Saundy's heart is like Jeannie's. I's knowed him sence he warn't no bigger nor a grasshopper. Besides, I's 'shamed on you,' says I. ' You hasn't got faith in man, and you's wery little in de Lord, I's thinkin', or you'd trust him more nor you do.'" "Put not your trust in princes,' " said Saundy: so the good book says." "Yes, it says so. But doesn't it say too, 'Trust in de Lord and do good; so shalt thou dwell in de land, and verily thou shalt be fed' ?" replied Basil. "It does indeed, my dear fellow, and from my soul I am glad that you know as much of that book as you do," said Saundy. "Miss'Jeannie reads to us of'en, and I can read some meself. I has to spell de big words, though; but I gets a hlap out of de Bible dat makes my ole heart light when I's in trouble." Saundy's appearance in the quarter was greeted with WHTE OAK FARM. 9[ hearty cheers. The servants felt as though they were entertaining a guest on their own premises, and bade their young master welcome with a degree of touching cordiality that went straight to his heart. He had a kind word for all of them, and, taking his seat on a rude bench under a large apple-tree, Saundy talked with the old men and the " boys" of his own age about old times and adventures, until the quarter rang again with shouts and bursts of laughter. Suddenly the colonel appeared in the camp, accom. panied by Jeannie; and, seeming not to notice Saundy, the old gentleman exclaimed,-- "Bawsil, mon! Sure ye're takin' an airly lunch the day. What's in the boys, that they're havin' Yule* on the last day in July? It's no the time o' year for sic a celebration! What's in them, I say?' Basil made his appearance at the door, and, chuckling with a kind of dry internal laugh, pointed to the apple. tree beneath which the young doctor was seated, ane answered the colonel's question with a single word:- "Saundy!" "Ech! and if its Saundy that's in 'em, I've no more to say: it's moderate enow for folks possessed o' the like o' him," replied the colonel, his broad face and laughing eyes revelling in the fling at his son, whilst Jeannie clapped her hands and said to Saundy, who was seldom at a loss for repartee, "You owe him one for that!" "Very well,', said Saundy: "I generally pay my bills at sight; but this I'll put by for the present, till I have taken a lunch with Basil." "sAveel," replied the colonel, "I'm that way disposed mysel'.", "You'll come to our house, massa.!" exclaimedfa dozen Christmas. ,A.,*: page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] B THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, voices at once, all clamoring for his company and Miss "I canna hold twelve luncheons at aince," roared the colonel. "Away wid you, boys!" cried Basil; " dis is my con- carn you's nuffin to do wid it, dis day, nohow. At this crisis, Jeannie suggested quietly to her father that it would perhaps be as well to make a joint affair of it: they might easily put a few boards on trestles and spread their tablecloths upon it, and then all would be content, if they contributed a share of the simple cheer. The colonel assented to it as a happy thought, and the proposal was received with general approval, old Basil acquiescing with graceful good-humor. "We'll gi'e ye time, boys, to do yer best," said the old man, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Massa Lawrence," interposed Basil, "you know's best, but dat fief of corn wants hoein' de wuss kind." "Hoot awa, mon! let the corn go. It'll no spoil till to-morrow. Saundy's in the boys the day, and they want to gi'e him a welcome to White Oak. You Tip and Jim, go to the house and tell Aunt D3othy to give you a cask of Scotch ale; I mean the bottles that are labelled Hector Dove.' And tell Donald and Jeames to come wi' you; and ye may as weel say that if Aunt Dorothy has ony thing to send to add to yer picnic----" D or, no, no, massa," rang out from a chorus of male and female voices; " fair play, massa! We's got plenty! We's gwine to make it all ourselves!" "Aweel, then, ha'e yer ain way; but ye may as weel gi'e Aunt Dorothy an invite, and maybe Andy can bring Arthur too; and, if old Tacey's in the house, fetch her wi' you." "Dat's de ticket!" shouted Jim; "I'soff; and I'll tote 'em all down, ef I has to take de wheelbarrow. Under the thickest shade, comfortable arm-chairs were WHTE OAK FARM. 97 placed for the guests; and the cackling of fat hens sur- prtsed by sudden fate, the shrill voices of the women urging the young ones to bring " de piggin full of watei and to tote de wood," the click of the axe as it fells upon the chunks of timber, and those notes of bustling preparation which are the precursors of culinary opera- tions, made strange music in that happy quarter. Clustering around their beloved guests, the old ne- groes, dressed in their Sunday apparel, brought their chairs, placing them at convenient distances, so as not to encroach upon their friends. "Isn't there a pipe and some good 'baccy in all the quarter?" inquired the colonel. "Here are cigars," said Saundy, drawing out of his pocket a package of prime "Plantation." "Na, na, mon!" said the old man; ' that isna what I'm askin' for. D'ye call thae black things pipes, Saundy?" A dozen clean white pipes, and as many pouches of the finest tobacco, were proffered in a trice by a squad of little urchins, all clamoring for special acceptance. " H canna smawk twelve pipes at aince!" shouted the colonel. "Dah now! you's pushed me down, you Bill,-you has so,--and broke daddy's new 'baccy-pipe!" screamed a little fellow, bursting into tears. "You're the man for me," said the colonel, laughing: "the pipe's just broken to the right length." And he took it out of his hands and filled it from the pouch which the boy, whose face was now grinning with tri- umph, held up to him. "Dah now! dat's what you gits, Bill, for shovin' on me so," said the urchin. "Hand the pipes about, and let's have a trial o' the kind of 'baccy that you use in these parts," said the colonel, who evidently enjoyed the fun with infinite lzest. a 9 page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 THE OLIVE-BRANOH; OR, "Happy is he that condemneth, not himself in that thing which he alloweth," whispered Jeannie. "I dinna condemn mesel' in this thing, Jeannie, and that's guid Scripture. A sensible man was that honest apostle; and so ye'll mind and no condemn me yersel'." "Well," exclaimed Jeannie, "I do not smoke; and, as for being smoked, I do not fancy that, either." "Ye're an odd fish, at any rate," replied her father, gayly; " and ef ye war smoked it wad maybe mak' ye a bit better nor ye are." With a merry laugh, Jeannie left the group, from whose glowing pipes the curling smoke began to wreathe in spiral columns, which spread their blue vapor over the dense foliage, to the annoyance of all insects that encountered it, and entering the house which the newly- married couple, Paul and Sue, had made their domicile, she left the devotees of the weed to their own peculiar enjoyment. Meanwhile, the preparations for the impromptu en- tertainment made rapid progress in the quarter. The table was adjusted, and the arrival of Aunt Dorothy, who came in advance of the invited guests from the house, seemed to infuse increased energy. She vowed that they were making quite an explay, and, if she had only known it before, she would have done this thing and the other, so that things should have been more chip-shape. Anon came Jim, wheeling the barrow with the cask, which was supported on either side by Donald and James McAlvan, as a guard of honor. "Boys," said the colonel, "I'm not, as ye weel know from fair experience, in ony way disposed to favor tip- pling or carousing. In- all the twenty years that I have been master of White Oak, not a drop of whiskey, rum, gin, brandy, or sich like, has been brought into this quarter with my permission or connivance;" (at this WHTE OAK FARM. 99 juncture, certain sly winks were exchanged, and old Basil pushed his tongue against the side of his cheeky as though busily engaged in giving a comfortable position to a fresh quid;) " and-though I am weel aware that on several occasions ye have so far transgressed my code of dietetics as to tak' a little of that same, or something similar, when ye thought ye did it slyly, I think I can say, no such thing as a tipsy man has been seen on this plantation in the memory of the auldest man or woman amang ye. And noo, I ha'e sent for this Scotch ale for twa reasons. The first is, because it is guid; and the second is, because this is a special occasion. But I shall restrict ye to the same rule and- measure which I obey mysel'; and that is, a single glass to every one that fancies it." "That's sma' allooance, Donald," observed James, in a low voice: "Maister Lawrence shudna maisure every Scotchman's gullet by his ain pipe-stem;. -Twa glasses for the likes o' you and me, Donald, wadna be ower muckle."* "Na, na," replied Donald; "it's further nor I ever kenned the colonel to trust these black craturs afore. He's a wise mon, Jeames. It isna for the cost, and that ye know; though, I'll be bound, that cask wad tak' a month's of your wage) or mine, to reckon for. And I'll say this for the maister, too:-though he keeps the best o' winee in the house, and though there are many of the geftry that wad be glad to tak' a caroose wi' him when there's ony o' that soort aboot, de'il a drap do they git from Saundy Lawrence; and as for himsel', it's jist as rig'lar wi' him as the time o' day, and has been these twelve years,-a'e glass, and nae mair, o' that ale to his dinner." Aweel," replied James, I'm no disputin' the colo- nel's principles; they're gude, nae doot: -but I dinna * Much. page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 THE OLIVE-IRANCH; OR, fancy the restreection, What may be muckle* for him may be micklet for me." "And what may be mickle for him may be mair nor yer gude wad alloo, if ye're ower greedy for drink," replied Donald. Whilst these public and private speeches were being made, Jeannie had been busy arranging several bouquets from the flowers which filled the borders of the gardens. These were placed in vases on the table, which was speedily filled with a display of substantial provision, together with a reserve of choice fruit, the product of the quarter. Cherries, apricots, nectarines, apples, and peaches, were piled in rich profusion; and the deep- crimson-almost black-murillos, the latest variety of the cherry, (and, epicures think, the best,) contrasted beautifully with the delicate lustre of the early peach and the luscious apricot. The appearance of Arthur Clarence and Andy was hailed with a shout of welcome. Arthur answered the kind inquiries and congratulations of the servants with expressions of cheerful gratitude. A slight paleness, and the wan expression which protracted suffering leaves upon the countenance, were the only indications of the ordeal through which he had passed; if we except the scar which marked his brow, but which rather adorned than disfigured it in the opinion of his friends. "Here come our sojers!" exclaimed the colonel; "and we must gi'e them honorable seats. So, by your lave, Andy, you sit here wi' Saundy; and, Arthur, tak' your place wi' Jeannie on this side, and the rest o' ye can accommodate yersel' to yer awn liking. But first we'll ask God's blessing." Standing behind the chairs which had been placed around the table, all waited in decorous silence, while * Much. t Little. WHTE OAK FARM. 101 the colonel, in few and simple words, invoked the divine blessing upon the company, and gave thanks for the happiness and comfort which cheered them, and for the glad hearts that enabled them to- taste God's gifts with joy. CHTAP PTE X. THE evening sun was beginning to lengthen the sha- dows of the grove under which the happy company sat or strolled, engaged in that unreserved interchange of kindness which is the fruit of mutual confidence, when the party separated; but, before the inmates of the mansion left their hospitable hosts of the cabin, Saundy rose,.and, taking his position on the upper step of a portico, in order to occupy a more convenient stand for the occasion, expressed in courteous terms his personal obligation for the kindness which had prompted the en- tertainment. He told them they had made him feel doubly at home, because they had proved that his absence had not verified the proverb, "Out of sight, out of mind." "White Oak," said the young man, "is very dear to me. It is the abode of a beloved father and sister and brother, who are cherished in my heart's core; and it is the home--yes, the HOME--of the tried servants of a family with whose happiness they are identified. I have not known a day of more joyous delight than this since I was a boy, taking some holiday-afternoon with Arthur and Andy, and with Tom there, and Jim, and Tip, and others among you, hunting in the fall and winter, or going in quest of nuts, or on some other expedition, always, like the rest of you, under charge of Old Boss. We were boys together then, and we are men now; and 9* page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, yet I think I can say we cherish one another as friends; and, whilst I know your own experience confirms the assertion that there is not a sorrow in the quarter that does not awaken a pang in the big house, nor a joy in the cabin that does not make that mansion happier, I am proud to add, that your sympathies are with us,-that our sorrow is your sorrow, and our rejoicing is your joy. And, before we separate, let me return, in behalf of brother Andy and my father and our Jeannie and Arthur, heartfelt thanks, not only for the good things with which you have cheered us to-day, but, more than all, for the kindness and the many touching expressions of regard which you have exhibited during the long illness of our dear young friend, whom a kind Providence has permit- ted to be with us again to-day. These are the ties that bind us together and make us one household; and may God strengthen them, and thus promote your happiness and ours!" "Amen!" said the colonel, wiping his eyes, and ap- plying his handkerchief to a prominent feature of his face, from which a sound proceeded like the note of a trumpet. Bowing gracefully with uncovered head, the old gentleman mounted his -horse, after receiving as) graceful a salutation in return as habits of genuine courtesy, flowing from kind and grateful hearts, couldi elicit; and then, amid a tempest of cheers and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, the family returned to their home. "Saundy," said Arthur, as they walked slowly home- ward, " you have made me a happier man than I have been for many a day." "How so, Arthur?" "Because I see now that it is possible, not only to make servitude tolerable, but to render the condition one of happiness as perfect as the negro can find on earth." WHTE OAK FARM. 103 "Why, Arthur, did you doubt it before?" inquired Jeannie, with an expression of surprise. "I confess I did; not because I doubted that at White Oak the servants are treated with the utmost kindness, for, believe me, Jeannie, I never questioned the tenderness of your heart, and I should be a repro- bate to every sense of gratitude, were I to doubt the kindness of a family to whom I owe every thing," con- tinued the young man, with emotion; " but I am a hap- pier man since- I know that a negro servant--a negro slave, if you will-can cultivate the home affections." "Right, Arthur! right!" exclaimed Saundy. '"The ab- sence of that thing has troubled me more in my State than I care to tell any one. I have no scruple of con- science as to the abstract question of slave-holding. I do not know what can be done with the millions of the negro race, who are under our care, but to give them the protection and the provision which they need, and which Providence requires us to render." "And yet," said Jeannie, "slavery, disguise thee as we will, still, slavery, thou art a bitter thing!" "Jeannie," replied Andy, with warmth, " there is not a slave in, all White Oak. Slavery is unwilling servi- bude; it is the bondage of cruelty and fear; and such a condition does not exist in any cabin in that quarter. I have no question in my own mind,-and I will say it on my own responsibility,-that, if free papers were tendered to' any men or women there, they would re- sent the offer, and would construe it as the result of some offence taken by their master. Why, there are fellows there that have money enough laid up in the I saving-bank in W and in Richmond to pay all that the' best hand would bring in Virginia to-day; and, I will be bound for it," said Andy, laughing, "if they were to come with the price in their hand, and offer it to the old Scotchman, he would say to -them, as he did to that page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, sulky old Tom whom we discharged a year ago, 'I din- na want yer money, Tom: keep it, man: if ye want yer papers they can soon be ready, and ye'll need yer money if ye go to a free State.' " "And did Tom go?" inquired Arthur. 'He did," said Andy, "and in six months' time he was back, begging Massa Lawrence to take him again; but the colonel thought it best for him, and for us all, that he should be free; for the old fellow was whimsi- cal, and was a tool in the hands of the squatters, some of whom are continually putting notions into the heads of the negroes that they would be happier in the free States: and so Tom could not stay. Besides, the ser- vants actually laughed at him." "What has become of him, Andy?" said Jeannie. "Indeed, Jeannie, I cannot tell you," replied her brother. "I wanted father to let the poor fellow stay, and he sent for old Basil to ask what he thought about it." "Well, what said Old Boss?" inquired Saundy. "He said, 'Iassa Lawrence, Tom's no account. He's jes like a pore white man wid big notions. He don't want to work, and he's too proud to be pore; and, 'twix' de debbil and de sheriff, dare won't be much lef' of him.'" And Jeannie-laughing at the reminiscence, which created a burst of merriment--put Pet to his speed, in order to overtake her father. "The boys are in a merry mood, Jeannie," said the colonel: " is Saundy in them too?" "He's among them, sir, and that's enough; but I be- lieve I was the occasion of the last shout, by telling about Basil's decision in Tom's case." "Noo, I'll be bound, Jeannie, ye didna tell the hail speech, from aw to izzard." "Perhaps not," said Jeannie; "and so, if you please, I will just leave you to supply what I may have omitted." WHTE OAK FARM. 105' And, waving her hand, she galloped away; for she well knew that mischief was lurking in her father's eye, and she was by no means desirous to have a rehearsal of the whole speech to which he alluded; for'some of Basil's illustrations, though never really indelicate, were rather too homely for her sense of propriety. "Arthur," said Colonel Lawrence,--who had held up until the "boys" overtook him,--"I hope you have not overdone yourself by your exertion at the table, for I really wondered at your appetite. Why, man, you have not taken such another meal since you came home." "Oh," replied Saundy, "'he's been relieved of a weight of care by that rough-and-ready entertainment: it has given him a new idea, and cheered him .vastly." The explanation which the colonel sought was given with earnest warmth by Saundy; and Arthur acknow- ledged that he felt a heavy load had been lifted from his heart. "I wish," said he, "to live for some purpose that shall be worthy of whatever energy God has given me. It has been my desire to devote my life to the amelioration of the condition of that race which Provi- dence has committed to the guardianship of the slave- holders of the South. You have made that work far easier than it would have been without the model pre- sented in your economy at White Oak.'? "A noble purpose, Arthur; but, ye mind, Rome was- na built in a day," rejoined Colonel Lawrence. 'The results, so far, have been gained by long training. The first thing is to get that confidence which is won by kindness, and yet not to lose respect by too great fami- liarity." "I have been struck by this very thing," observed Arthur:--" that your servants never presume upon your good-humor. They are diligent and faithful, working as though they had a personal interest in all the produce of your farm." page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "And so they have, Arthur. They live on the fat of the land. They know neither want nor care. If all the honest white laborers of the North-whom I respect- were as well provided for, and possessed all the prac- tical liberty which these negroes enjoy, I verily believe many of them would not only be happier than they are, but they would be willing to serve one and the same employer all the days of their life. I say not that they would be willing to adopt the name of slave,--nor would I have them do it; but I say that many of them, to my certain knowledge, work far .harder than any ser- vant on White Oak, and can scarcely earn enough to quiet their landlord's claim and find bread for their chil- dren; and should they be taken sick, they have no alter- native in the end but the almshouse. Still, they are freemen, I know; they are no man's slave, and they are proud of their liberty, and I honor them for that too: only, I am persuaded that it is better for the negro to be under the protection of a Christian master, who takes God's word as the measure of his conduct to his ser- vants, than to be a free negro in a free State. I believe he is more respected, and far happier." ' So long as society is constituted as it is, sir," re- plied Arthur, "I believe your conclusion is a just one. I have been pained, during my residence at the North and in the Middle States, to observe the contempt with which the colored people are treated, even by the very men who are ready on all occasionq to denounce slavery as a most odious institution. Look at the negroes in Richmond, or Charleston, or Savannah, on the Lord's day, and you find them dressed, many of them, in the very top of the fashion: their clothes are of the best ma- terial,-no cast-off finery, but as genteel as the best tailor can make them; they have the manners and the air of gentlemen; they salute their masters, and one with an- other, with courtesy; and who ever knew a Southern WHTE OAK FARM. \ 17 gentleman refuse to reciprocate their politeness? Out let these genteel negroes, who are slaves, run away to"a" free State, and take the same freedom in Boston, or New. York, or Philadelphia, and how far would the poor fel- v lows get in their flight before their wings would be most cruelly plucked -to the quick of the fine feathers which make fine birds? They would be treated with contempt and scorn. I am sure of what I say,-for I have seen this verified over and over again. fHere gentlemen treat them respectfully. We do not deem it, an incongruous thing that a negro should be genteelly attired, or that he should act like a gentleman; no attempt would- ever be made to set in motion that rude underswell 'of society which, in some other cities,-cradles of liberty, and the like,--would roll after such an exhibition of negro gen- tility and sweep' it out of sight as offensive and insulting. Now, it is surely the part of wisdom not to attempt what is, in the nature of things, impracticable. You may say, slavery is a bitter thing. We in the South are as ready as any to say, 'slavery is a curse;' it is a hack- neyed phrase even among us; but the stubborn fact is, it exists, and, unless the negro population--numbering now not far from four millions- can be removed from the country, it must continue to exist for many years to come. Comparatively few of them would be able to provide for themselves; and, if emancipated, the South would not choose to be encumbered with such a popula- tion as the present gpade of free-colored society would indicate." "I know no question more involved and intricate than the subject whose merits we are discussing in this ex- temporaneous style," rejoined Saundy; "but, as we are all of one mind, I would suggest that we waive it for the present. I am informed by Dr. Haddon that he expects a clerical friend from the East, with whom he has been in correspondence on this subject, to visit him in the page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, course-of the ensuing month. This gentleman is an eminent Christian minister, who is thoroughly imbued with principles of decided aversion to the whole system of slavery. Dr. Haddon speaks in the highest terms of his candor and courtesy; and we will have him, Provi- dence permitting, as our guest for a few weeks." ," Well, he shall have a candid hearing and a cour- teous auditory at White Oak. Arthur used to be about half converted to the Eastern faith; and who can tell what the result will be upon him?" said Andy. "I seek truth, and desire to be open to conviction always," replied Arthur, smiling; '" and I hope, when the three learned professions are represented in the pro- posed conference, they will be able to enlighten an humble disciple, who belongs, as yet, to none of them. I am free to say that I advocate the claims of humanity and Christian benevolence; that I see many things in the practical development of slavery which are repug- nant to my sense of right, and some abuses which are not merely flagrant, but abominable and cruel: these I wish to have abated. Servitude itself, if not an insti- tution, is at least a relation which the Scriptures fully recognise; and I am one of the old-fashioned race of be- lievers who are always ready for the watchword, 'To the law and to the testimony.' I am persuaded that the good old book designates the true remedy for this and for every other social evil: all we have to do is to honor God's statutes." Amen, Arthur! from my heart, Amen!" exclaimed the colonel. "You have stated my position; and I'll back ye in it, mon, against North or South, East or West, or all of them together! 'Via media, via tufa,' is the key-note in this controversy! Put me down on your side, against all the professions, learned or un- learned, that oppose your principles!" With a hearty laugh at this characteristic finale, the WHTE OAK FARM. 109 conversation was suspended at this point. They had been seated some time on the portico, enjoying the delicious coolness of the summer evening, the colonel, with his sons, whiling away the evening in social chat, whilst Jeannie and Helen Haddon, who had come over at Jeannie's invitation, were entertaining them with some favorite duets on the piano, which, from its posi- tion near the open window, enabled e listeners to con- verse with the performers and expirbi their appreciation of the music, when a messenger arrived with a note from Judge Woodhull to Andy. Entering the parlor, Andy broke the seal and read as follows:- - W---- July 31, 185-. "MY DEAR ANDY:--Since our last interview, the case in which you and our mutual friend Clarence are so deeply in- terested has assumed a still more complicated aspect. I can- not enter into full particulars, neither is it necessary that I should. Suffice it, the mystery in which the settlement of Judge Clarence's -estate has been involved for so many years seems to be gradually assuming a form that must soon lead to a solution. Hurlow and Sharp have mutually implicated one another in transactions which furnish a clue to certain facts hitherto inexplicable. Do you know any thing of a slave- woman named Kate, formerly owned by Arthur's guardian, but who has not been seen or- heard of, so far as I can ascer- tain, for the last two or three years? If we can secure her evidence, I verily believe the whole plot will be unravelled; Consult your friends; but be cautious, and let me see you, at latest, early to-morrow morning. "Yours, truly, "GEORGE WOODHULL.". "A. LAWRENCE, Esq. Drawing Arthur aside, the young man took his arm, and they entered the library, where Andy at once com- municated the contents of the note to his friend. 10 page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "I know where she is," said Clarence, calmly. "Have you seen her lately?" inquired Andy, eagerly. "I have, Andy; and I would have told you about the affair sooner, but I felt loath to involve her master in a serious accusation without additional testimony." "But how on earth have you obtained this interview, Arthur?" inquired his friend. "As to that," replied Arthur, smiling, "you know I have a great advai'mge in the services of my ubiquitous old Tacey, and I have no doubt she is at this very hour closeted with Kate; for she sent me word through Tom, when I was at the quarter with you this afternoon, that she intended to see her to-night." "And you kept all this to yourself, Arthur," said Andy, sopnewhat reproachfully. "Certainly, Andy," replied Clarence, laying his hand affectionately on his friend's shoulder: "I kept it all to myself, as you say, because I did not think it either wise or just, as the matter stood, to lay claim to Mr. Scrub's estate as my property, without corroborative testimony, which, I suspect, this quarrel between Hurlow and his accomplices has at last furnished." "And do you believe the woman's testimony, Arthur? Are you sure that it is reliable?" inquired Andy, thoughtfully. "I not only believe it, but I know it is sustained by an amount of circumstantial evidence corroborating it in the minutest details," replied Arthur. "Why, then, did you not tell me about it, that the matter might have been sifted to its very foundation, Arthur?" replied Andy, with a degree of warmth which plainly indicated some impatience. "My dear fellow," replied Arthur, earnestly, "I have already told you I thought it was hardly time for any such communication. I felt loath to put in a claim of such a nature upon the testimony of a servant whose WHTE OAK FARM. "I soul is full of the bitterest rancor against the man whom she accuses, and who has deeply wronged her, if the half of her story is true. I preferred to let the fruit ripen on the tree. It will drop without my shak- ing it." "]But the woman may die: and what then becomes of her testimony? I will go this very night and see her, Arthur," exclaimed Andy. "Tacey has taken care of that," replied Arthur, smi- ling. "She took the precaution to secure Kate's testi- mony in the presence' of two canny Scotchmen, who are as close as an underground tomb, if the occasion re- quires; and I have been content to wait quietly for the developments of a wise and righteous Providence." A cloud was gathering on Andy's brow, and Arthur, observing it, continued, in a tone of affectionate apology: -"Andy, be not offended at my apparent want of confi- dence in the dearest-friends of my childhood and of my young manhood. I knew your ardent temperament, and your strong affection for me personally, too well to trust you with any secret of the kind. I did intend to mention the whole affair. to Colonel Lawrence, and, in- deed, I began my story a few days after my arrival; but I was interrupted, and your father's disclosure of the generous provision which you had all been making for me-but which I do most respectfully decline -has sealed my lips against all further conversation on that subject, just because I did not wish to be regarded as, the victim of a dishonorable pride on the score of my poverty." "Well," said Andy, with good-humor, "I suppose I must accept your apology, though at the expense of the good opinion which I still entertain of my own dis- cretion. You are a somewhat eccentric fellow, I see, yet; but you always have been, and I begin to think, yod always will be, rather set in your own way. However, let that pass. Your failing leans to virtue's side. But /'a \ page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 THE OLIVE-BlANCH; OR, just let me ask you, supposing nothing more had been developed respecting your estate: what then?" 4' I should in that case have simply left the matter to the direction of Providence. I felt persuaded that the whole affair would be unravelled in due season." "Exemplary patience, upon my word!" said Andy. Only ordinary faith, if you please," replied his friend. "So, then, I suppose, your delicacy would have allowed a property worth a cool hundred thousand dollars to slip from you without an effort to retain it when it was in your hand?" "Not quite that either, Andy," replied Arthur: "I was pretty well assured that the clue which had been put into my hand almost immediately upon my return to White Oak, in a manner so very remarkable, was an indication of the purpose of a kind Providence to put me in possession of my own. It was only a question of time with me." Stepping to a writing-desk, Andy. penned a reply to Judge Woodhull's note, requesting him to come over to White Oak at an early hour of the morning, and in- forming him that Kate had been seen by Arthur Cla- rence, and that he had for some time been in possession of her testimony. Having despatched it by the same messenger, Andy rejoined the party on the verandah, whilst Clarence resumed his attention to the perform- ance of the ladies. oYe're following the doctor's specific directions," said the colonel, as the music ceased, addressing Clarence through the open window,-" avoiding'the night-air and the like?" "Very pleasantly engaged," replied Arthur, "I can assure you, sir; but, as tha ladies are disposed to close their part of the entertainment, I shall be obliged to the gentlemen if they will give me leave to see them for a , s WHTE OAK FARM. 113 few moments in the library on some business, whic, you know, ladies," bowing to them with a smile, "must sometimes take precedence of pleasure." "We will excuse you, sir," said Jeannie, smiling; "for, to tell you the truth, Helen and myself are rather weary, and we think seriously of retiring, in accordance with the old nursery-rhyme." "Call in the servants, then," said the colonel, knock- ing the ashes from his pipe; "and Arthur, our house- chaplain, will read us a chapter from the good book before you leave us, my bonny girls." Passing into the hall, Jeannie touched the spring of a small silver bell twice in rapid succession, and the voice of Aunt Dorothy was soon heard summoning the house- servants to the room. Arthur performed the duty assigned him, and the venerable colonel, in a few words of simple, childlike supplication and thanksgiving, gave utterance to the emotions which filled his own heart and inspired every worshipper in that little company with feelings of pure devotion. Tacey, who had been an inmate of the colonel's house since the illness of Arthur Clarence, had come silently into the room and knelt unobserved with them during the prayer; and, as they were retiring, her -young mas- ter caught the quick glance of her eye, and, approaching her kindly, inquired. after her health, and in a low voice expressed his concern that her attentions during his sickness and the fatigue of the afternoon's exercise had been more than she could bear. "Remember, you are getting old, and you cannot travel over long miles so easily as you used to do: you must take care of your- self, my good Tacey." "I walked only part of the way," replied Tacey. "Paul met me, as you told him, and I rode'back with him; but there was no need of that. Walking fatigues H o10* " * page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 THE OLIVE-BRANOH; OR, me very little. But," and her voice sank into a whisper, "I must see you alone for a few minputes." ' When?" "Now," replied the mulatto; and opening the door which led to a small antechamber, which was lighted by a single candle burning on the mantelpiece, Arthur fol- lowed, and, motioning her to be seated, waited in silence whilst the old woman, standing before him, proceeded, in her usual subdued tone, to relate the incidents of her interview with Kate. "Arthur," she began, "God has been good to me. The prayer which has been on my lips and in my heart, night and day, for these twenty years, is answered at last. It has been a long night, my poor, dear young master: but the morning is coming; it is growing light; and old Tacey's eyes will see the clear sunshine of early day, and praise the Lord for that mercy." "Speak plainly, Tacey," said Arthur. "Have you seen Kate this afternoon?" "I have, Arthur, and you must see her yourself once more. She is going fast. Another day, and her poor broken heart will be at rest. She says she must see you; and it is her special request that you bring with you witnesses who can testify to what they hear from her own lips," replied Tacey. "CBut how can you procure access for them to her room?" inquired Arthur, in some perplexity. "The tyrant who has been her keeper is away, and will not return until the day after to-morrow," replied Tacey. "But the servants may make some difficulty, and I do not like the idea altogether of going to a man's house in his absence: indeed, Tacey, I cannot help feeling this is a very unpleasant feature in the affair," replied Arthur. "The servants! the house!" murmured Tacey, as WHTE OAK FARM. 115 though speaking to herself; and, drawing herself to her full height, she stood before the young man, and ex- claimed, "Is not the house Arthur Clarence's? Are not the servants his? Whose gold bought that mansion and its broad acres? Judge Clarence's! Whose money bought those servants? Whose, but my own dear mas- ter's? And because a wretched man stole his father's purse, and robbed my poor orphan boy, and called that land and house and those men and women after his own name, shall the rightful owner be afraid to lift the latch of his own gate? Ay, come in, Colonel Lawrence, and all of you come- in, and say whether my young master should halt at such a time as this." Attracted by the elevated tones of the old mulatto's voice, the colonel and his two sons had approached the door of the room, and Andy pushed it open and stood opposite to Clarence, unobserved, whilst Tacey. was beating do-wn her young master's objection, with a dis- play of earnestness altogether foreign to her usual quiet and subdued demeanor. "What ails ye, Tacey?" inquired Colonel Lawrence, somewhat startled at the unwonted- vehemence of her manner. "Nothing, master," replied Tacey, sinking down into her chair; " nothing now." "Poor Tacey!" said Arthur, smiling; " you have always had trouble with my refractory spirit." "No, no! forgive me, my dear master, I spoke from a full heart," said the faithful mulatto; and she hid her face with her hands and swayed back and forth upon the chair. , "And she spoke soberly and truly," said Andy, who had gathered enough from Tacey's address to her mas- ter to guess the import of what he had not heard. "You have no right to hesitate about the thing at all, Arthur." Clarence shook his head in token of dissent. page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "Now, in good sooth," exclaimed the colonel, whose countenance indicated great perplexity, "are ye speak- ing in parables? or are ye getting up a charade? If that's the thing ye're after, I'll have Jeannie and Helen here, with Aunt Dorothy, to take share in it." "I am waiting for the explanation too," said Saundy, laughing. "Here are two of us still uninitiated. What do you want with us, Tacey? Can we help you to bring Arthur to terms? . Any more medicine, eh? If so, I am on hand." "Thank you, my worthy leech," replied Arthur; "I am out of your hands, I believe, for the present, and I mean to keep in the same condition of blissful exemp- tion from your tender mercies, if possible." And, turning to Tacey, who had risen up to withdraw, he promised to talk the matter over with his friends, and take proper measures to secure the testimony; and, pressing her hand kindly, he followed her to the door. She turned, and said to him, solemnly,- "To-morrow will be too late." "Will be, Tacey?" repeated Arthur, in a tone of re- proof. "Yes, my master, to-morrow will be too late," she repeated, with calm earnestness. "I have watched the dying these many years, and I know death's tokens. I can hear the sound of his footfall; I can see the shadow of his messenger; and I tell you to-morrow WILL be too late. I will meet you at your own house this midnight;" and, with a gesture of profound affection and respect, she hurried away from her young master. The tramp of a horse approaching the mansion drew the colonel to the front-door, and in another moment Judge Woodhull had joined the friends, who were en- gaged in earnest conference. WHTE OAK FARM. 117 CTTAPT'R XI. "I GOT your note, Andy, half an hour ago; and I thought, as the evening was pleasant, I would ride over and run the risk, at any rate, of finding you on your feet,' said Judge Woodhull, as the young lawyer ex- tended his hand. "And you could not have come at a better time," re- plied Andy, earnestly. In as few words as the nature of the case would admit, the necessary explanations were given, and Basil was directed to have a close car- riage and a span of horses at the door with as little delay as possible. "Well," said the old negro, as he proceeded to secure attention to this somewhat untimely order, (for it was past ten o'clock, and he was disposed to go home,) "I don' know what Massa Andy's 'bout, nohow! 'Ta'nt no time o' night to take de critturs out; and if he drives 'em dey'll be jes' as if dey'd bin dipped in soap-suds when dey comes back. I's a great mind to put de slow- est kind of a team to dis yer carriage." "Halloo, Basil!" shouted Andy. "Yer's Basil!" responded the negro. "Put the harness on Black Hawk and Red Jacket: d'ye hear?" said Andy. "Yes, massa; tBut if you hadn't told me dat," con- tinued the old man, dropping his voice, " neider o' dem two would have seen de outside of de stable dis night. Here; you Jim," said he, shaking the shoulder of that personage, who was coiled up on a pile of straw, sleep- page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, ing in happy oblivion of all earthly care. "I say, Jim you's got to wake up. co, Jim!" , Y ho dah?" muttered Jim, without opening his eyes. "I's dah," replied Basil, giving the sleeper another pull. P at you, ole boss?"Jim responded, still sleeping. I delar', exclaimed Basil , dat nigga's jes' for all "I deqlar', exclaimed Ba s igg a hury de world like a log o' wood. dMassa Andy's in a hurry, and de bosses is got to be htched up, and yer's dis reckons a-snorin' in de stra^%^ ^ what Jim, I's got to wake Jim out o' dis ye sleep, somehow. Jm, I say! git up!" roared Basil in the ear of the sleeper. ,Dar's de ole bull in de corn-fiel' agen!" muttered Jim, whose dream seemed to take the direction impressed on his ears by the stentorian voice that was urging him to duty. If dat Jim a'nt playin' possum now, den I don' know noffin 1" exclaimed Basil, whose perplexity began to as- sume the hue of serious vexation, as the stertorous breathing of the sleeper indicated the profoundest som- nolence. Grasping the collar of the old coat which Jim had thrown around him, Basil sought by main force to raise him from the straw; but, in whatever position he placed his colleague, the change seemed to' make no manner of difference to Jim. His head swayed from one side to the other, and finally dropped back, as Basil, with an exclamation of wrath, let him fall again on his bed. By a dexterous movement of his foot, Jim seized the moment when Basil was off his balance to push against the old negro's limb, and he came down with stunning sound upon the barn-floor. "Dar goes de fence! de ole bull a-breakin' frough!" muttered Jim. , Now, may de Lor' forgive me if I shud swar," said Basil ; " but I jes' believes dat Jim's tryin' to aggrawate an ole sinner!" WHTE OAK FARM. 119 Attracted by the loud outcry which the old negro had made in trying to rouse Jim from his sleep, Saundy had taken a lantern, although the moon was shining brightly, hoping to facilitate the in-door operation of arranging the harness; and, suspecting that Basil had met with some hinderance, he called out, as he was approaching the stable,- "What's the matter, Basil? Do you want help?" Opening the door, and holding the lantern so as to throw the light into the stable, the first object which presented itself was the venerable negro, swaying a bucket of water, which he was preparing to empty upon a pile of straw, exclaiming,-- "If dis don' fetch you to, I'll rub de bucket on you' head." To his amazement, Jim was no longer to be seen, and, dropping the bucket, he turned to Saundy, with an ex- clamation of mingled vexation and astonishment:- "Dat Jim beats all de niggas I ever did see." "Why, Basil, what's wrong?" inquired Saundy, with an effort to repress a burst of laughter. "Dat you, Massa Saundy?" said Jim. a I's comin'; de hosses is 'most got de harness on; dey'll be ready in a minnit, massa." s Dar's jes' one ting I'd like Massa Lawrence to 'low me to do," shouted Basil. "What's that, old man?" inquired Saundy. "I'd jes' tank him kindly to give me de priv'lege to 'minister ,scipline when it's needed," replied the old. negro. t "Now, you go 'way wid yer 'scipline," responded Jim, c( and jes' cum over yer and help to git de hosses hooked up, instead of keepin' massa waiting dar, and running 'bout wid de bucket, to spile de straw. You's ort to know better nor to be arter such tricks at yer tite o' life," continued Jim, with a Well-affected tone of repro s page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "I's most 'shamed on you, ole boss; and I's a good mind to tell massa 'bout you." Meanwhile, the horses were harnessed to the carriage, and Saundy having restored Basil's good-humor without much difficulty, and enlisted Jim as the coachman for the occasion, every thing was soon in readiness for the unexpected excursion. "I can overcome your scruples, Clarence," said Judge Woodhull, "unless they are absolutely indomitable, by the consideration that this is a legal process. A warrant has been issued for the apprehension of your former guardian, and I have a subpoena here for the woman Kate, whose testimony is absolutely essential in order to corroborate the accusations of Hurlow." "I will go with you," said Clarence; and the party were soon seated in the carriage, Colonel Lawrence re- maining at White Oak. Judge Woodhull was not only held in high esteem for his eminent legal attainments, but he had endeared him- self to a large circle of devoted friends by the warm enthusiasm with which he uniformly espoused the side of justice, without regard to the relative social position of parties whose conflicting interests might be the sub- ject of dispute. He was known as a peacemaker, and, in numerous instances, he had, by a few words of kind counsel, and by his quick and almost intuitive sense of right, reconciled differences among neighbors, when they had assumed an aspect which threatened alienation and protracted litigation. Among his friends, he constituted a private court of appeal; and such was the confidence in the uprightness of his decisions, that they were almost invariably regarded as final. The sworn foe of oppres- sion, transgressors of the law who had exhibited cruelty to man or beast, when convicted by a jury, were sure to receive the full penalty which impartial justice prescribed. He was the successor of Judge Clarence upon the bench, WHTE OAK FARM. 121 and, though he had occupied that honorable position for nearly twenty years, he had not yet attained the period of life which entitles a man to the somewhat dodbtful honors of old age. In truth, he had passed that climac- teric which men reach at the age of fifty, but he retained all the freshness and elasticity of early manhood; and a stranger would never have supposed that the glossy curls, of hair, black as the raven's wing, which hung around his massive forehead, could have so long escaped the frost which passing years will sprinkle from. their wings. From his first acquaintance with young Clarence, he had manifested a deep and generous interest in his welfare. The veil of mystery which had enshrouded the catas- trophe of Judge Clarence's affairs had hitherto been im- penetrable. At the time of his death, Arthur Clarence's father was reputed to be by far the wealthiest gentleman- in that district. His habits had never been extravagant, though he maintained a style of living which was in accordance with his position. He had never been known to be in the least embarrassed for the means requisite to meet his extensive pecuniary wants. On the contrary, he had been proverbially exact in meeting his engage- ments; and, though he was always ready to'lend to those who deserved confidence, he had never in: a single instance been known to borrow. It was, therefore, a matter of general astonishment when his executors announced that his estate was encumbered with claims of which his most confidential friends were totally igno- rant, and that his personal assets were barely sufficient to meet certain urgent demands, which admitted of no delay. He had died suddenly. Without any indication of indisposition, he had retired at his usual hour, and was found the next morning, dead, in his bed, every feature composed as though in placid sleep. During the last two years since the death of Mrs. Clarence, he had lived to a great extent in. seclusion, seldom accepting -the I , page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, social invitations of friends, but always cheerful in the society of those who honored him with their attentions. Gradually his circle of visitors had narrowed down to a few, with whom he remained in habits of the strictest intimacy; and a gloomy reserve, the result of his do- mestic affliction, threw its dark shadow over his genial spirit. All the attempts of friends to rally him were without permanent effect. He was always gentlemanly, and in their society he attempted even to be gay; but the effort was evidently painful, and often his own coun- tenance presented a strange contrast to the cheerfulness which his polished wit had kindled upon the features of his guests. The condition of' his affairs, as announced by his executors, seemed to furnish the solution of this morbid melancholy, and to a great extent precluded sus- picion. One circumstance, however, had never been explained. It was known to Judge Woodhull and others that he had received a large sum of money only a few days before his death; but this, it was alleged, had not been found, nor could it ever be ascertained what disposition Judge Clarence had made of these funds. In the will, which was dated only a few months previous to his death, the Hon. Samuel Scrub was named as the chief executor of his estate and the guardian of his little son. This selection was matter of surprise; for, although the reputation of that individual was unsullied, he was at that time comparatively a stranger in the vicinity of White Oak. It was known, however, that his visits to Judge Clarence had been frequent, and there was evi- dence also that he had been employed in the adjustment of various matters connected with the administration of his estate, during the lifetime of the judge; and these facts, taken in connection with the alleged eccentricity of the last two years of his life, had disarmed all sus- picion at the time when the will, which had been duly registered, was submitted to the approval of the court. WHTE OAK FARM. 123 Circumstances, however, had revived that slumbering distrust, and a painful impression had rested for years on the mind of Judge Woodhull, that Arthur Clarence had not only been subsequently defrauded of the little pittance which the acknowledged statements of his guardian admitted to be rightfully due to his ward, but which his guardian had, by some of those quirks which lawyers of no conscience can turn to the disadvantage of their clients, actually squandered or appropriated to his own use. The result of this was that the Hon. Samuel Scrub lost what little public or private respect he had ever enjoyed, and confirmed the impression, which had long since deepened into a' persuasion, that the wealth which this man claimed as his property was in reality procured at the expense of young Clarence. Simon Sharp, Esq., had for many years been the attorney of Mr. Scrub, and a boon and bosom companion. Hur- low had implicated him not only in charges of pirating negroes, but he had in so many words accused him of conniving with the elder Scrub in stealing a large sum from the desk of Judge Clarence. Hurlow had obtained this information from a female mulatto slave, who had lived with Scrub as his housekeeper for many years, and who, in a fit of exasperation at the introduction of a more attractive rival, had stated,"to Hurlow certain facts of which- she was cognizant. For more than two years, Kate had been secreted by her owner. She was detained in close confinement, in her master's house. Her sole attendant was a' half-witted negro woman, who per- formed the duties enjoined upon her by her master under the influence of terror inspired by his well-known severity. One person, however, had found access to the domestic prison of Kate, and had learned from her lips the whole story of Arthur's wrongs. Repeatedly, at the dead hour of night, Tacey had obtained interviews with r poor Kate; and such was the awe with which Arthur's page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 12 'THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, nurse was regarded by Molly, whose sympathies were aroused in behalf of her former mistress, that she con- nived at the visits of Tacey. A jewelled miniature, which had formerly belonged to Judge Clarence, had been secreted by Kate, and for the last month had been in the keeping of Tacey, from whom she had exacted a promise, as the condition of transfer, to withhold it from Arthur Clarence until death should release her from the vindictive cruelty of Scrub. In less than half an hour, the carriage which con- tained Arthur and his friends was standing at the gate which opened towards the mansion occupied by his former guardian. It was a massive building of stone, surrounded by lofty trees of horse-chestnut, syca- more, and tulip-poplar, waving their broad arms, as the rising wind, which came in fitful gusts, shook the branches, and gave utterance to the murmuring music of the leaves,-a strain in nature's melodies which no other orchestra can imitate. The sullen muttering of distant thunder, and the gleams of lightning which showed a heavy bank of clouds covering the western horizon, were the heralds of an approaching storm. Alighting from the carriage, Andy directed Jim to drive the horses under a shed, and the party walked silently towards the house. They were met by a negro, who exclaimed, as though astonished at the unexpected arrival of guests at so unseasonable an hour,- "Who-who dah at dis time ob de night." "Is that you, Jacob?" replied Judge Woodhull. "Oh, Massa Woodhull, sure as I's a live nigga, dat's you!" exclaimed Jacob. "Is Mr. Scrub at home?" inquired Andy. "No; he been gone dese two days," replied the negro. "When will he be back, Jacob?" said the judge. "Well, now, I declar'," answered Jacob, "dar you WHTE OAK FARM. 125 has me, judge : I don' know. He may come back afore mornin'; and den agin he may come de day arter to-morrow." "Well, Jacob," replied Judge Woodhull, " though your master is not at home, I am obliged to go into the house, as I am here on business of the court, and if we cannot see Mr. Scrub perhaps we can see Kate." "Kate!" exclaimed the negro,--"Kate! Oh, Massa Woodhull, I don' know whar Kate is! Massa Scrub tole me she been dead dis year and more!" "Now, sirrah," take care what you say, replied the judge: "your duty is to obey your master in all things that are just and right, but if you go in the face of the law----" "Massa Woodhull," said Jacob, lowering his voice, "I hasn't seen Kate dis two year, and Massa Scrub tole me she was dead, pore thing; but you won't let a pore nigga be whipped for obeying de law if I tells you all I knows about Kate?" "Never fear! But speak the truth,-mind you,' said the judge. "Oh, Massa Woodhull, 1 wish you'd buy dis pore chile, or get Colonel Lawrence to buy me and Peggy and de four young uns, for 's most afeard of my life on dis yer place. Well, I knows, but I's most afeard to say it," continued the negro,---"I knows Kate is in de house dar, and if Mam Tacey was here she could take you right straight to whar she's kep'." "Why can't you do it?" said Judge Woodhull. "Me take you dah! I's never bin dah!" replied Jacob; "and I don' want to be." "Follow me, my masters," said a well-known voice; and the mulatto walked, with a light, quick step, to- wards the rear of the mansion. "I declar', dat Tacey skeers me!" exclaimed Jacob, as 4ZAlll page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, the party passed the negro and moved towards the dwelling. "Here, Jacob," said Andy; "take care of our horses, will you? and see that they are not left in the rain." And he slipped something into the negro's hand. "Dem bosses shall have 'tention, massa," replied Jacob; and then, passing the coin from one band to the other, and holding it up before his eyes, he endeavored to get at an idea of its value. "It's got a good deal mo' heft nor a dime," said the negro, in a kind of half-whisper. '"Massa Andy's de right kind ob a white man. Wish all de men in de worl' dat has servants was like de folks at White Oak. If dey was all like Massa Scrub, I'd a'most as lief be drownded right off, or be a pore white man, like Jim, dat squats yonder in de bush, as be a nigga. But holla! hi,'holla! you Slim! Down, you rascal!" he ex- claimed, as the baying of the two bloodhounds which formed part of Mr. Scrub's establishment rose in pro- longed howls upon the still night-air: "down, I say, you Ketch, or I'll make you hollar anoder tune." As the negro approached the kennel, the beasts slunk growling under their shelter, and Jacob, striking the side of the dog-house a smart blow with a stick, con- tinued his objurgations, muttering all sorts of menaces, and succeeded in silencing the ferocious brutes, mutter- ing to himself,- "I'd jes' give all my harskins and all de brooms I's got ready for to sell, ef I only dared break you' backs, you red-moufed rascals! you're a disgrace to de white folks, and you're jes' de 'bomination of all 'spectable culled people; and ef it hadn't ha' ben for you, Massa Scrub might ha' waked up in de mornin' and found Jacob jes' nowhar. Hi!" he exclaimed, as a sharp flash of lightning lit up the surrounding darkness with its lurid gleam, and was followed almost instantly by a stunning WHTE OAK FARM. 127 crash of thunder, which rolled onward with heavy re- verberations; "dat's close by, and I's gwine to git out ob de way. Halloo, Jim! whar is you?" He was answered by a voice from the shed, and, guided by the sound, lent his assistance to bring the horses into the stable. Meanwhile, the party followed Tacey in silence. En- tering the rear of the house, they passed into one of the wings of the mansion, and, crossing a long, narrow entry, directed by the light of a lamp which Tacey held before them, they reached the end of the passage-way. "How now, Tacey?" exclaimed Andy, as the party brought up against the blank oak-panelling by which the passage was encased. "ity masters," replied the mulatto, "wait here a moment, if you please, until I let Kate know that you have come. She is weak, and a sudden visit from you might be too much for her." And, passing her hand over the panel, it flew open, and revealed a small apartment, into which Tacey descended by a short flight of steps. Returning after a few minutes, she held the light at the foot of the stairway, and bade them enter. Stretched upon a cot at the farthest corner of the room, the poor- creature, who had been imprisoned for the last two years of her weary life within its narrow limits, lay in hourly expectation of her release. A small night-lamp flickered on the hearth, and Tacey, placing the light on the table by the bedside, whispered a few words in the ear of the sick woman. "Here is Dr. Lawrence, Katy," said Tacey, as Saundy approached the cot and extended his hand. "Lie still, Kate, and do not let this visit alarm you," said Saundy, as he observed the poor woman Bmaking an effort to rise. "We are your friends, Kate,/ he con- tinued in a soothing voice. page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, The cot shook under the agitation which convulsed the poor woman; but the gushing tears relieved her, and - she faltered out,- - "You come from White Oak, and I know that you are a friend. O God!" she cried, clasping her thin, almost transparent, hands, and raising her large swimming eyes, whilst an expression of humble gratitude rested upon her features, "I thank thee that the voice of kind- ness soothes my dying hour." "Be composed, Kate, I implore you," said Saundy; who strove to repress his own emotion: "I have some- thing here that will help you." And he poured a few drops of liquid from a small vial, and, mixing it with a little water, gently raised her from her pillow and put it to her lips. "Now, Kate, if you will rest a moment, you will be better prepared to tell us what you wish us to know." Closing her eyes, the poor woman leaned back upon her pillow and remained silent for a few minutes. Her features, though attenuated by suffering and wearing that pinched and sharp expression which betokens ap- proaching death, still showed the lingering traces of decaying beauty. The only indication of African blood which could have been apparent to unpractised scrutiny was presented in the dark, lustrous eyes of the poor slave. Her complexion was white with the pallor which the angel of the grave casts upon the counte- nance of the departing; and a stranger would never have supposed that she bore affinity to a race of bondsmen. The storm was, meanwhile, approaching ,in its might. The wind hurtled through the grove which surrounded the mansion, and the tall trees swayed to and fro before the wild blasts which bent them towards the earth, whilst the driving rain beat against the casements and poured its torrents over the parched ground. The peals of thunder followed the lurid flashes of lightning WHTE OAK FARM. 129 in quick succession, and brave men shuddered at the fearful tumult of the elements. "It is a dismal night!"Arthur whispered to Judge Woodhull. "A dismal night!" echoed the dying woman; "but it will be the end of sorrow to me. Listen, for my time is short. I am strangely strong," she continued, and, raising herself, she sat up, without assistance; but Tacey, placing an arm so as to support her, propped her up with pillows, and, whispering "God bless you, Kate, and give you strength for this'hour," she kissed the cheek of the-poor woman. "I heard Arthur Clarence whisper, did I not? iMy dear master, come to me; let me see you once more," exclaimed Kate. Arthur approached the cot, and, taking the seat to which Kate pointed, she continued:- "Hear me, my master. Of God I have sought for- giveness, and I have' found it; but you have not yet forgiven me, Arthur, for conniving at a wrong which I always detested, but dared not expose till now. You press my hand and tell me you have nothing to forgive, young man; and it is like you; but you must hear the story of my guilt and sorrow, and then, if you say, PI forgive,' I can die in peace. I wish to make all the reparation in my power. Arthur Clarence, your father bought me to save me from a fate worse than death. Your mother was all that a mother could be to me. She never treated me like a servant. I believe she loved me as though I had been her own child. She lost your sister, Arthur, only a few months before you were born, and the blow that laid that bright angel in the grave fell upon her mother's heart and crushed it. I was with her in her last hour. She died in my arms. I was young then,-not more than eighteen,--a giddy, foolish girl, fond of dress, and your mother was indul- gent and kind to me; but she watched me with a mo- page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, ther's care, and I owe all the comfort I have now to the instructions I received under your father's roof. KMy sorrows began when she died. Your father never was like the same man afterwards. All his sunshine was gone. He hardly ever smiled. He, was always kind to me; but he seldom spoke. I have often lain awake at night and heard him walk about his room for hours together. Poor Judge Clarence! He grew old very fast aifter her death, and in about two years he followed her. It was not more than six months before that Mr. Scrub became so intimate at White Oak. He was very attentive. Every day he called to know if the judge had any commands. He attended to any thing and every thing, and seemed so pleasant, and generous, and kind, that Judge Clarence was won over completely; and, though I know there was a time when he could not bear the sight of Samuel Scrub, all his dis- like was worn off, and he leaned on that man with all the confidence of an honest heart. Oh, he was nursing a viper! God forgive me if I do wrong in saying so. I wish to forgive him, as I hope to be forgiven." And the poor woman sobbed in the anguish of her wounded spirit. "Kate," said Saundy, "you are becoming exhausted. Had you not better rest a few moments and try and compose yourself?" "It matters little, master; I have strength enough left to finish what I have to say. A few minutes more and I can tell you all, and then I will wait till my dear 'Missy Amy comes to fetch me to my other home. I will go on," said Kate. F"r. Scrub was very kind to me. He won my heart. I loved him; and when he offered to take me home to live with him, and promised that I should be his wife and the mistress of his house, though he could not marry me, I went with him after Judge Clarence was WHTE OAK FARM. 181 gone and White Oak was sold. Mr. Scrub's wife died before he came to Virginia. I had my free papers, which your father had given me ; but, at Mr. Scrub's persua- sion, I destroyed them. But why should I speak of myself? And yet, Arthur Clarence,-I cannot help it! --my poor children, my dear Amy,-oh! if you can save 1tf her, do it. Her father has sold her; and yet I do believe he would not have done it, had it not been for his son Samuel. The three others died in their infancy. Thank God, they are safe; but my poor Amy,-she is as fair as you are; and she is the daughter of the man who sold her for filthy coin!" There was a pause, during which Kate seemed to be seeking strength for a continuation of her story:-- "I believe Jack Hurlow knows where she is. Tell him from me, that, if he would escape the torture of a guilty conscience that will lash him in a dying hour, I charge him before God to save her from a life of shame and sorrow. "A few days before Judge Clarence died, a gentleman from Georgia paid him fifty thousand dollars. I know it, for I was in the room: they called it the library. He paid the money partly in bank-notes and the rest in gold. I saw where the money was put. The notes were locked in a secretary in a secret drawer. There Mr. Scrub found them after my dear master died; and he took them, and never accounted for them to the estate. I saw him take the roll of bank-notes out of the pocket- book. Mr. Sharp was with him at the time. They quarrelled about the division of it at first, but soon came to terms. The gold was not there. There were a thousand doubloons. What became of them I cannot tell you. Nor do I know what was done with the old family-plate and with the jewels that belonged to Missy Amy. Mr. Scrub never found them, though he looked in every hole and corner in the house. I believe they page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 182 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, are in White Oak yet. I remember Missy Amy used to tell me, laughing, that there was a strong box in the wall; but she never showed it to me, and I never saw any of those things after her death, but one; and that I have with me now. I found it on the morning of Judge Clarence's death, and I kept it, intending to give it to you some day. After I had taken it, I felt afraid to send it back to White Oak, though I have wished many a time to do so. Mr. Scrub has never seen it. I gave it to Tacey to keep until after my death; but I give it to you now myself;" and she took out of her bosom a miniature-case and handed it to Arthur. "It is your mother's miniature. Oh, forgive me! I did not mean to steal it. I almost worshipped that picture for your mother's sake." Taking the case from her hand, Arthur withdrew from the cot of the dying woman, and, leaning upon the shoulder of Judge Woodhull, who had remained a silent but deeply-affected listener, he strove in vain to stifle his emotion. Throwing his arm around the young man's neck, Judge Woodhull wept aloud; but, soon checking his emotion, he whispered,-- "Arthur, this will never do. She may have more to say, and her strength is failing." Kate sank back upon the pillow, her head resting upon Tacey's bosom. Her eyes were closed, and her lips moved as though engaged in prayer. The silence which reigned in the room was broken only by the tumult of the storm, which raged with unabated fury; and the mournful sighing of the wind as it tossed the lofty branches of the trees, which struggled like giants battling with the tempest, was in strange accord with the solemn awe which oppressed the watchers around that death-bed. "My dear Kate," said Judge Woodhull, shave you any thing more to say?" WHTE OAK FARM. 133 In a low whisper, she replied, "I am waiting to hear Arthur say that he forgives me." "Poor Kate!" said Arthur, bending over her; "if it will comfort you, I will say, I forgive you; and, more, from my heart I thank you for this precious memento." A smile lit up the features of the dying woman. "Now I am content," she murmured. "Bless the Lord, O my soul! Dear, kind Tacey, my second mo- ther, God will reward you." And she soon sank into a quiet slumber. The laboring breath grew shorter and fainter. The eyes wandered, and then became fixed with an expres- sion of intense and earnest scrutiny. The finger of the poor woman followed the flitting motions of an object which seemed to her to hover around the bed: her countenance glowed with animation which gave to that pale face an expression of holy rapture, and, reaching forth her arms, she murmured, ("Missy Amy!" and the slave was free. 12 page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 184 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CITAPTER XII. IT was late the next morning when Arthur Clarence left his room and joined the family group, who were engaged with Judge Woodhull in close and earnest con- versation. The colonel and Jeannie were endeavoring to recall different localities in the rooms which might possibly afford space for a secret recess; but no such arrange- ment existed, so far as they were familiar with the localities which were successively canvassed. The ap-. pearance of Arthur at once reminded Jeannie that an adjournment to the breakfast-room would be mutually acceptable; and, as the family had long since discussed that matter, she suggested, after the colonel's inquiries concerning his health had been satisfied, that, as she had been waiting for the last hour to administer the comforts of a substantial breakfast to their tardy friend, it would perhaps be best for all parties to allow them to attend to that duty; and, taking the hand which Clarence extended, she led the way to the apartment. "Andy has been telling me all about last night's ad- venture, Arthur," said she, as, taking her place at a small table, she proceeded to prepare his coffee, "and I have been waiting, as patiently as I could, to see you; for it seems to me we must be able to unravel this tangled thread, after the clue which poor Kate has given." aWe shall have to exercise some patience yet, Jeannie," replied Arthur. "I am not at all sanguine ,s to the validity of Kate's testimony." WHTE OAK. FAR M. 135 "Why, Arthur, do you doubt her words?" inquired Jeannie, with some surprise. "No. I believe all she said,-every word of it; but it will not avail me in any court of law- in this State." "Can it be possible?" exclaimed Jeannie. "'Has Judge Woodhull given such an opinion?" "He has stated, with all frankness, that this evidence, unsupported by other testimony, will not be sufficient," replied Arthur. "The Act of Assembly which relates to this case, and covers the whole ground, is most ex- plicit. I have it by heart," continued Arthur, "and it is in these words:--'Any negro or mulatto, bond or free, shall be a good witness in pleas of the Cornmonwealth for or against negroes or mulattoes, bond or free, or in civil pleas where free negroes or mulattoes shall alone be parties, and in no other cases whatever.' So my claim will break down at the outset, unless I can get other evidence that will corroborate it." "Oh, Arthur! I am. distressed to think that you should have been so cruelly wronged; and now, when Provi- dence seems ready to do you justice, must your cause fail through such a law?" said Jeannie. "Indeed, Arthur, I cannot believe it." "To be candid,. Jeannie," replied the young man, "so far as I am concerned, I can submit with a good grace. And I am not disposed to exclaim against the law, either. You must see that it would not be safe to allow the testimony of a slave to be received without restric- tion in our courts of law, because the overwhelming majority of the slave-population of the South, degraded as it has been and still is, could not be safely trusted with such a qualification. Allow a slave the unqualified right to testify against his master, and you offer a pre- mium to all grades of perjury, which would often place the owner at the mercy of his servant. Still, I think some' modification might be made. It would be very page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 186 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, convenient for me to establish my case as an exception to the statute; but Mr. Scrub might have some reason to object," said Arthur, smiling. "I do not like the law at all, Arthur," replied Jeannie: "I think law and justice should always go together." "Experience, however, has long since shown that they sometimes do not," rejoined Arthur; "and, so long as the world stands, human legislation will be defective. You know, Jeannie, laws are the result of principles, and must therefore be abstractions, for the most part." "If I were judge in this matter, I should be very apt to let the law make way for the claims of justice, at all events; and I do hope Judge Woodhull will be of my opinion," said Jeannie. "Judge Woodhull will never try the case, Jeannie," said Arthur, smiling at Jeannie's earnestness. "Do you mean to let Scrub keep your property, Arthur? Surely, that would not be right on your part. You owe something to the claims of public justice, and the safety of society requires you to proceed against that man," rejoined Jeannie. "I admit all that, my dear counsellor," replied Arthur; "but Judge Woodhull, I am persuaded, would not be willing to try the case on its present merits. Neither would I consent that he should; because, in this matter, his zeal for me as my friend has identified him too much with my claim. There are other issues, however: I have reason to believe that my title can be made out and established to the satisfaction of the court by means of another process; and Andy is on the track." "Well, let that go, then," said Jeannie. "I wish him all the success he can desire, and that is all that you would ask for yourself. But, Arthur, I have been wait- ing for you to show me that miniature, and you have not said one word about it." !"Because," replied Arthur, "you have not given me WHTE OAK FARM. 137 the opportunity until now, though I have been waiting for it quite as long as you have. Here it is, Jeannie;" and he drew from his bosom a medallion studded with brilliants, and, throwing the riband to which it was at- tached over her neck, he allowed the lovely girl to examine it at her leisure. "Beautiful!" exclaimed Jeannie. "As lovely a face, Arthur, as I ever saw I What a sweet expression! and yet how sad! Oh, I am so glad you have found this treasure!"And the tears, despite of her efforts to con- ceal them, began to trickle down her cheeks; for she thought of her own sweet mother, whose miniature por- trait she had worn from her childhood; and sympathy for the misfortunes of the young man, who was now confessedly dear to herself, and who had so much cause to deplore the orphanage which had left him exposed to the cruel fraud perpetrated by his guardian, stirred up a tide of feeling which she could not suppress. 'u Jeannie dear," said Arthur, as he gently kissed her cheek and looked at the portraits, which she held side by side in her hand, "these are sad but sweet memorials, after all, and I have learned to trust in Providence, and, in the simple discharge of my duty, to leave events with God. For your sake, Jeannie, I could wish to hold what of right is my own." "I have-we have--enough,--Imean," replied Jeannie, blushing, " for----"And she hesitated. "For us both, you mean to say," said Arthur. ' I know it; and, since gratitude and love together have conquered pride, and made me avow the feelings which I could never have permitted myself to divulge until my worldly circumstances had made me more of an equal, I suppose I must be content, under pain of your'displeasure, Jeannie; but I tell you frankly, analyzing the state-of my mind as fairly as I can, I care very little for the result of this suit against Scrub. I should like, however, to know i2* page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, what has become of that part of the money which Kate thinks is still secreted in this old homestead." "We have been speaking about this very thing, Arthur. Father and I have been conning over the shape of the rooms, and the position of closets all over the house; but we can-not think of any place in the whole dwelling that could serve as a casket for all the missing treasure. I tell you what, though, Arthur: we may as well take a day to make a thorough search; and if you are agreed," continued Jeannie, laughing at the conceit, '"we may as well play hide-and-seek- through the house as we used to do ten years ago, when we were children. Suppose we go at once." "I am on hand," replied Arthur, "'if we can get Aunt Dorothy's consent; for you know that used to be a sine quw non." "Never mind Aunt Dorothy: she has lost the substance of her authority, though she does not know it. This room, I suppose, we may pass by at once. It is on the ground-fioor, and it is scarcely probable that a place so much exposed as this would be selected for such a pur- pose," observed Jeannie. "But, Arthur, what could have possessed your father to adopt so strange an expe- dient?" "How do you know that it was not a kind of precau- tionary heirloom?" replied Arthur. "You know my ancestors for several generations have occupied this old castle, and perhaps, in the days of the Revolution, or at some earlier period, when the country was in an unset- tled state, this expedient may have been devised, and the accommodation of its secrecy to a subsequent and even more recent economy may'have rendered it desi- rable to continue it. The wings were added in my father's time; and I am disposed to confine the search to the limits of the old original building." WHTE OAK FARM. 139 "I wonder if that queer old Tacey knows any thing about it?" said Jeannie, thoughtfully. "I think not," replied Arthur. "If she had been aware of the existence of any thing of the kind, I am pretty sure I should have known all about it before to- day." "Arthur/' said Jeannie, moving towards a secretary which stood in a corner of the room, and turning the key, -hich was inserted in -the lock, "do you remember an old-fashioned hollow kind of a key, with which you and Andy frightened me one day? You were mischievous boys then,-about twelve years old, I think. You may recollect you were going to make a pistol or a cannon out of it. I watched my opportunity and hid it. The thing turned up some months ago, and I kept it as a kind of memento of old times; and here it is." I do remember it distinctly," replied Arthur, as he took the antiquated article from Jeannie's hand and began to scrutinize it with eager curiosity. "This key I remember as far back in my history as I can recall any thing. I kept it after my poor father's death as one of my pet playthings. I have a dim recol- lection of him. I have never forgotten how he used to take me on his knee, and point to my mother's portrait, which hung in a recess against the wall, and tell me about her; and many a time Tacey has come in and carried me away, she has since told me, for fear that I would 'fret myself sick/,' as she expressed it. My con- viction becomes strong that the room which my father occupied contains the object of our search, if it is to be found anywhere," said Arthur. "That is my room," said Jeannie. '{We call it the East Room, par excellence; though I do not know why it deserves that name more than a dozen others that face the rising sun." "Ye're takin' yer time, this morning, Arthur, or yer page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, appetite maun be vigorous more than ordinary, or there's some other 9eason for yer absence; and I am deputed by judge, lawyer, and physician, to inquire into the matter," said Colonel Lawrence, as, with a good- humored smile, he stood before the open door. "Conling, sir," said Jeannie. "I didna ask ony thing about ye, Jeannie; neither did ony of the aforesaid mak' ony inquiries touching the likes of ye. But-oh, I understand now. I had al- most forgot. Ye consider yersel' entitled to speak for Arthur, on the ground that where you are, he'll no be far off," replied the colonel, with a mischievous look at the laughing girl. "I declare, father, you are getting too naughty in your old days for any thing," said Jeannie, as she ac- cepted the salute which the old gentleman proffered with lips pursed up in the usual pouting style. "'Arthur and I have just been going over the ground that you traversed with me this morning whilst he was sleeping as though nothing was at stake, and I believe we have made some headway too." "Have ye found the doubloons?" inquired the colonel. "Not yet; but we have found the key, and that's something!" replied Jeannie, gayly. "' The key!" echoed the old gentleman. "The key.! but have ye found the box to fit it? That's what we're after. We've keys enow, but the likes o' the box that ye're after I havena seen in White Oak." Meanwhile, the party adjourned from the breakfast- room and joined their friends in the library. "Now," said Jeannie, "Arthur and I have an idea that we can find this strong box. We think we are on the track, at any rate; and,if you wish to help us, Andy, or you, Saundy, or both of -yu, you can come along." "Weel, Jeandie, ye can tak' the boys with ye; but, for my part, I'm a bit too old to go hunting for a mare's WHTE OAK FARM. 141 nest; and so the judge and I will finish our pipe to- gether," said the colonel; and, laughing at the good- natured sarcasm, the treasure-hunters left the room and entered upon their search. "You seem somewhat incredulous," observed Judge Woodhull, when they were alone. I do, George, no doubt," replied the old gentleman. "And yet the thing is possible, though it: looks very im- probable." "rIf you had been with us last night, I think you could have had no doubt of the sincerity of the poor woman who gave her testimony in relation to this mat. ter of the money; and, I confess, I am disposed to believe that, whether the search is successful or not, her story will eventually be confirmed," observed the judge. "What is your opinion of Arthur's prospect in his suit against that villanous neighbor of ours? I know you say that Kate's testimony is altogether insufficient; but is there no way of bringing it out, so as to give us its moral weight?" inquired the colonel. "I can see none, colonel,-none whatever. The statute is explicit, and the Act of Assembly is so positive, that her evidence would be ruled out, because- she is not a competent witness. The court could not recognise it," replied the judge. "If I am not mistaken, the laws of some of the Southern States make a distinction between those of purely African blood and such as are of a mixed descent; and they would admit Kate's testimony, or the duly- authenticated record of it, would they not?" inquired the colonel. "Yes; but the mischief is, 'colonel, we, are in Virginia and in no other State," rejoined the judge, laughing. "I'm aware of that, George," said the colonel; 6 but I should think you lawyers might be sharp enough to get at justice in the very teeth of such a law as this, which, page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, however wisely meant, is manifestly most defective, and requires some modification. Suppose we try to get the Assembly to pass some qualification in the way of a pro- viso, discriminating between ignorant creatures, who have no adequate moral sense of the obligation of an oath, and those whose intelligence and Christian cha- racter are indisputable?" Judge Woodhull shook his head, and, with compressed lips, remained silent -for a moment, before offering any reply. "You will find," he continued, after a pause, "that the African race is placed under disabilities in every State in the Union but one: in some they are less stringent than in others, but they do not stand on a footing of equality with the whites, by statute law, in any portion of our confederacy except Maine. As P race, the laws discriminate against them. In Maine, they participate equally with the whites in the exercise of civil and political rights; but, for my part, though I wish from my heart that some of the slave-laws of the South were modified and others repealed, I am not in favor of this levelling process even in the free States." 'u'Every man to his liking, as the old woman said when she kissed her cow,'" rejoined the colonel; " but I think an all-wise Providence has put a mark on that race, and planted such a feeling in the very instincts of our nature, that all attempts to remove legal discrimi. nation are repugnant to the laws of our physical organi- zation. Now, I think I am a friend of the negro race. I am -willing to go as far as the next man-and a great deal further than some of my neighbors think I ought to go--to elevate their morals and improve their social condition. It has been the labo of the last fifty years of my life to do the part of a genuine benefactor; and yet, though I do not want to hold any discontented ser- vant in bondage, I believe that, in the present state of public feeling in our country, my negroes are happier WHTE OAK FARM. 143 than they could be in any free State in the IUnion.. In my judgment, there is no species of fanaticism more absurd than the wild abolitionism of certain sections of our Union. I have no doubt many of its advocates believe they are doing God service by their zeal; but I am equally persuaded that the devil has no servants more zealous than the infidel crew who strike at the re- lation of master and servant as part of the organic frame of society, on the same principle that the filthy miscreants aim at the abolition of the family, the'. church, the Sab- bath, and every institution that stands in the way of their nefarious Jacobinism." . "True," rejoined the judge. "I am not disposed to rail indiscriminately at the public sentiment of the North, the East, or the West. I have been of the opinion for years that the slave-population have suffered from the extreme opinions of party in the South 'as much as from any other cause. The conservative sentiment of the South can harmonize with the public opinion of the North without much difficulty. We all know that several of the Southern States were prepared, thirty years ago, to take measures to relieve themselves of the burden of slavery, for to us in Virginia it is nothing else. You can re- member the free, undisguised, open discussions which were held on this subject. Projects of laws giving larger privileges to the slave, and curtailing the authority of the master, were freely entertained in our legislative bodies. But suddenly a change came over the public mind; it withered every budding promise like a mid- winter frost falling upon the opening blossoms of spring. And what was the cause? It was the announcement from influential bodies at the North, that slavery was per se iniquitous and abominable, and- the formation of societies whose object was the immediate and uncon- ditional emancipation of the African race. Then came a series of publications, with all sorts of inflammroatory - , page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, illustrations and appeals, with the avowed object of in- citing the slaves to open insurrection. The plan suc- ceeded partially in South Carolina, and the massacre of the families of some of the masters, under circumstances of the most revolting cruelty, was enough to inflame the entire South with a feeling of determined resistance. Then came the enforcement of prohibitions forbidding the instruction of the blacks in reading and writing. These statutes, where they had existed previously, were a dead letter to all practical intents; but they were en- forced in self-defence." "I remember, myself," said the colonel, "upon open- ing some parcels of chocolate which had come on from the North, finding the article wrapped up in some aboli- tion tracts, that were'filled with lies black'enough to poison the very stuff they covered; and so I threw the tracts into the fire, and the chocolate I flung on the dung-heap,--both precautionary measures, George; for I concluded that the men who could utter such false- hoods as those papers contained were base enough to mix arsenic with their wares, if they thought they could send a slave-holder out of the world." "Well," rejoined Judge Woodhull, laughing at his friend's earnestness, I have no wish to be uncharitable, but I think your suspicions in relation to some of that rabid fraternity are pretty well founded. The men who oppose all government, and avow- their enmity to divine revelation, rejecting the Scriptures as the word of God, and believing in all unbelief, are men who annihilate all distinction between vice and virtue. But we have been digressing wonderfully in our conversation this morn- ing, and, though this subject is intimately connected with the disabilities of the African race, it is not the point we intended to discuss; and so, as we are both of one mind, we will let the matter drop, if you please." "Not yet, my learned judge, with your consent WHTE OAK FARM. 145 You said something about an extreme Southern party. Now, I want to compare notes with you on that head, if you have no objection," continued the colonel. "tNo objection in the world, sir," replied his friend. "I believe that the safety of the South depends upon the prevalence of conservative views. We occupy at present an extent of territory large enough, in all con- science, for our political and social wants. Let us be content with it. I want no more slave-territory; and I will tell you why. What we gain in extension we lose in stability. Our policy points to consolidation. Con- gress has no power under the Constitution to legislate in relation to slavery in our acknowledged borders. It cannot, therefore, interfere with. us without violence to the federal Constitution; and the public sentiment of the whole Union is overwhelmingly in favor of preserving its principles intact. Whatever we may think or say, respecting slavery in the abstract, it exists; and that not by our act or choice. 'It is an entailed institution. We are told,--' Get rid of it. Set your slaves at liberty. This slavery is a blot upon our national escutcheon: we are ashamed of you and your Quashy tribe both. Break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free.' We answer, You talk at random. Set our slaves free? Well, suppose we do: what then? We have four mil- lions of them, or shall have, if the ratio of increase con- tinues in the same proportion until the next census. If these millions, a large portion of whom are brutalized in the extreme, are set free, and all the restraints which are now barely sufficient to keep them under control are removed, we do not want them at the South. At the West the cry is, 'we will not have them.' By the Consti- tution of Illinois, of 1848, the General Assembly was required, at the first session, to pass such laws as would effectually prohibit free persons of color emigrating to or settling in the State, and to effectually prevent the ItK 13 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, owners of slaves from bringing them into the State for the purpose of setting them free.* Somewhat similar restrictions exist in Ohio. Georgia and Florida forbid free negroes to enter their limits; and, in short, the re- sult of immediate emancipation would be the expulsion of the African race from most of the States of the con- federacy, and the measure would involve an immense amount of cruel suffering. We must, therefore, for the present, take things as they are, and try to make the best of them. If the thing were practicable in the present juncture, the South might be glad to be rid of slavery; it would be no disadvantage: but the thing is not practicable.. Well, we have our fire-eaters at the SoutLh, who advocate disunion. They flourish the bludgeon, browheat Senators, and propose, in case the presidential election does not go right, to march straight to Washington and take possession of the archives, and leave the rest to Providence. Very well. Providence will take care of such heroes. But we are annoyed at such caricatures of Southern sentiment. We laugh at them; but, unfortunately, in other sections of the confederacy these valorous champions who do battle for Southern rights are regarded as exponents of the public opinion of the South. They are not. They hold a relation to us similar to that which the rabid agitators of the North and East sustain to the great body of the community which tolerates them; and, were it not for the continual exasperation which the agitation of this subject produces upon the Southern mind, they would not be able to maintain a single post of honor or influence. They live by the vitality which Northern agitation confers, more than by the grace of the South; and they are the worst enemies of our prosperity, in my opinion. * S See Kent's Commentaries, vol. ii. p. 271. WHTE OAK HARM. 147 "In all this I agree with you, judge; and to adjourn this question for the present, I will give you my pro. gramme, in a few words. Ijet us have no more slave- trade, foreign or domestic. Make the business of the soul-driver as infamous by law as it is in the public sentiment of 'the South. Recognise the family as a divine institution, protected by the laws of the land. Respect domestic ties among servants, and prohibit all violent sundering of them. Relieve the African race of a portion of its disabilities, e. g. so as to make it compe- tent for a slave to bear testimonly against his master or overseer in all cases of wanton cruelty, of which the marks are before you. In short, take the law of the New Testament, which recognises the relation of the master and slave as fully as it does that of husband and wife, and make that the rule of equity, and we shall have nothing to fear from any quarter. But what on earth is this hubbub for up-stairs?" exclaimed the colonel, as the sound of Aunt Dorothy's feet upon" the stairway, and the shrill tones of her voice, announced that some stirring scene was enacting in another portion of the domicile. , 5 page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CFTA PTE' XTTT. WHsT the colonel and his legal friend had been set- tling the affairs of the nation and saving the Union from dissolution, the party, consisting of the two sons of the colonel, with Arthur and Jeannie, had repaired to the "East Room," which Jeannie had indicated as the most probable locality for the commencement of their operations. "Upon my word," said Saundy, as they entered the apartment, "whoever is the occupant of this room un- derstands the science of comfort." "No remarks, Saundy," interposed his brother. "If Jeannie permits us to invade her fairy bower in search of lost treasure, we are expected to abstain from all obser- vation, or at least ffom all remarks foreign to the pend- ing issue. Is't not so, Jeannie?" "I shall impose no restraint whatever, Andy," replied Jeannie, blushing, despite of an affected nonchalance; "but I shall take care to mention to Miss Helen Haddon whatever yonder forlorn bachelor and true knight may say touching the science of comfort." I'll make a truce with you, Jeannie," replied Saundy; "and I'll let it be the prelude to a blissful and perma- nent peace, if you don't break the armistice. Now, there's an offer." * "Oh! your head is so full of thoughts of ' blissful and permanent peace,'" retorted Jeannie, slily, "that I shall have to rally you now and then, to keep you from lapsing into Arcadian indolence; and I am not going to WHTE OAK FARM. 149 consent to any embargoes under the plea or pretext of a truce." "Ha! Saundy," exclaimed his brother, "you have nothing before you but ' Bell,' horrida bella, as old Virgil has it. I feel for you." "I do not think Helen such a horrid Belle at all," re- joined Jeannie, mischievously punning upon the sound; "though I agree with you that very little else is before the doctor's mind at present." "Proceed," said Saundy, with an air' of resignation; "I am prepared for martyrdom, and shall meet it in a self-sacrificing spirit." "Of course you are," replied Jeannie, laughing, '"and the sooner you are brought to the altar, the better pleased you will be, no doubt." "You see," said Saundy, appealing to Andy' and Arthur, "Jeannie has her thoughts so set on matri- mony that her lips are constantly betraying the secret of her heart." "There again!" retorted Jeannie. "I said not-a word like matrimony; and yet Saundy can't help turning my innocent remarks into the current of his soul. Every thing drifts with him into the haven of 'blissful and permanent peace. " "That will do," said Arthur, who had quietly enjoyed the playful rencontre, whilst Andy laughed aloud with unrestrained mirth, vowing that he was the only inno- cent member of the party: "we must insist upon a sus- pension of these sharp shots." "For fear that a stray arrow might hit you, I sup- pose," observed Andy. "Too late for that caution. His heart is already rid- dled and pierced. Jeannie is a wonderful adept with the bow," said Saundy. "As you have found, sir, to your cost," replied Ar- thur, coloring slightly. "You may say, then, 130 page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 THE OLIVE-BRANCH. OR, 'Insatiate archer, would not one suffice?' I warn you, Saundy, the quiver is not yet empty." "Go on, Saundy! I'll back you!" shouted Andy:- Thrice is he arm'd who bath his quarrel just.'" At this juncture the face of Aunt Dorothy was seen peerincg in at the open door, with an expression of be- wildered astonishment at this invasion of Jeannie's bower, which was replete with all those little elegancies which refined taste, directed by the plastic hand of the ingenious and lovely girl, had scattered like votive offer- ings at the shrine of innocence and peace. "Come in, Aunt Dorothy," said Jeannie; "come ins and help me keep these gentlemen in order." Aunt Dorothy was preparing to excuse herself, say- ing she had just looked in because she heard such a "bubbub" she was afraid something nmisfortunate had happened. "Not at all, aunty," said Jeannie, laughing; "only Saundy has got a little hurt in a fight with bows and arrows." "Now, I do say, if that a'n't too bad!-to be playing with such wimplements in the house! it's a wonder the windows a'n't all smashed; and then a body's eyes may get knocked out. Such things is dangersome," observed Aunt Dorothy. "Never mind, aunty," said Arthur, who was always deeply affected by the housekeeper's eloquence, and who laughed outright, as the brothers broke out into a cho- rus of merriment; "Saundy will take better care an- other time: he has only been taking a few lessons from Jeannie." s Nowl, NMiss Jeannie," said Aunt Dorothy, in a re- proving tone, "you are too wild for any thing. I am always at-telling you about it; you're always getting WHTE OAK FARM. 151 some mad capons in your head; but I never knew you shoot anybody afore with bows and arrys:--and your own brother, too! I've got some good salve, though, and I can fetch it in a minute." "My dear aunty," said Clarence, who found matters getting worse at every step, (for Jeannie had seated her- self in an arm-chair, and had gone off in one of those merry laughs which are proverbially contagious, and vher brothers were in no better plight for serious occu- pation,) "you forget Saundy is himself, a doctor, and no doubt he has all sorts of remedies at hand." "Suppose he is a doctor!"'exclaimed Aunt Dorothy: "I guess I've doctored him many a time. Law met don't I know what's good for sores? Just let me see it, and I'll tell you what to put on." "Put on a wedding-garment, and he'll be well!" ex- claimed Jeannie. "You'll have to lend me yours, then, for I a'n't got none of my own," replied Dorothy, who began to suspect some misunderstanding, on her part, of the real matters at issue, and with characteristic good-humor entered into the gayety of the party, whom she loved with a degree of maternal affection, though, like most persons under similar circumstances, she retained, or at least endeavored to retain, something of the authority she had exercised over their childhood. The young men were her " boys" to that day, and would have been her boys still, had they been twenty years older; for she was slow to apprehend that a few years added to the period of childhood translates the boy into manhood and the little girl into the happy freedom of the maiden. Catching the hint from the remark of Jeannie, and having more than surmised that Saundy's attentions to Miss Helen were likely to lead to some such result as- that foreshadowed by his sister, she simply added,- "Well, I understand now, and I can only gratitude page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; ORn, Saundy on his choice. I do think Miss Helen is as nice a girl as anybody could wish." "Isn't she, now?" said Jeannie, with mischievous perseverance. It was some time before Aunt Dorothy could be made to appreciate the object of this singular intrusion into the East Room; but she was informed that they had come to examine the walls to see if they were as sound in one place as in another. She protested there was no danger of their falling down, for she knew they were "monstrous thick," and she was sure they were straight, as anybody might see; and, for her part, she could not see any use in making such a fuss and frightening her with the idea that the house might come tumbling about their ears some day. ' Such things have happened, though, before now, aunty," said Jeannie; 'and, at any rate, it will do no harm to try if they are solid throughout." Aunty retorted, that might be so, but it would do no good, and she thought the boys might be at something better; besides, she was afraid if Saundy hammered away in that style with his mallet it might crack the wall, sure enough: but then, she added, with despair- ing resignation, she saw it was no use, for, if Miss Jeannie got into the notion of having it done, done it would be, she knew, and so she would go down-stairs a while and attend to some matters, or else Betty might spile the dinner while she was perusing round doing nothing but watch the "boys" at their nonsense; and, with this valedictory, Aunt Dorothy conveyed her prim person out of the room. Meanwhile, Saundy had been sounding the wall with his mallet, removing pictures from their fastenings, and deranging the order of things generally; but the report of the hammer indicated solidity throughout. "I am disposed to give this room up," said he, as, dis- WHTE OAK FARM. ' 153 mounting from a chair, he threw the mallet upon a sofa: ' these walls are solid as the Plymouth Rock, and if there is a safe inside of them, the only way to get at it will be to pull the house down piecemeal." "Maybe that would pay, doctor," said Andy: "you are a firstrate hand at the demolition of the internal fit- ness of things, as this scene proves; and no doubt you would, with a little practice, be a master-architect of ruin." . The attention of Arthur had been directed to the por- tion of the wall which surmounted the mantel. A large open fireplace, furnished with the old-fashioned but most comfortable appurtenance known as a "Frank- lin," jutted out into the room; and he was convinced, upon examining the thickness of the' entire frame of the chimney, that it was much broader and deeper ithan the ordinary demand of a simple flue would require. "Is there another arrangement like this in the house?" inquired Arthur. "There is not, indeed," replied Jeannie. "This is the most unique chimney-piece I have ever seen; and I do not know what the idea could have been in making this so much wider than any other fireplace in -the house; but it is so comfortable in winter, with a hickory fire on that old hearth, that I have several times dissuaded father from having it altered." "Let me see," said Saundy, placing a chair against the fireplace, after he had carefully examined the direc- tion of the flue: "this arrangement is somewhat singular, and indicates a special design of some kind or other, for there is manifestly an unappropriated space, as you can see for yourselves." "Suppose we take down- this heavy mirror," said Andy, "and you can sound the wall behind it." "No occasion for that!" said, or rather shouted, Saundy, who moved his chair after surveying the;side page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, of the abutment, and, instantly twirling a picture from a knob to which it was suspended, he gave the button a tap with his mallet, and, with a creaking sound, the eamire panel opened, and revealed an iron door, which was evidently the entrance to a secret sate. The excitement was becoming intense. Saunridy seized the handle, but the door was fast. "Where is the key, now? We are at a dead lock." Clapping her hands with delight, Jeannie exclaimed, "The key! the key, Arthur! can this be it?" "Try it, Saundy," said Arthur, handing the key which Jeannie put into his hand. "This is the thing we want, sir," said Saundy, as, pressing heavily upon the handle after the key was fitted in the ward, the heavy door swung upon its hinges and revealed the long-lost treasure. Grasping a heavy bag of coarse linen, he flung it, with a wild hurrah, upon the floor, and, leaping from the chair, grasped Arthur's hand and bade him look for himself. "These are the doubloons," said Andy, opening the bag and examining the coin. "So much for poor Kate's story!" and with a loud hurrah, which made the case- ment rattle, he shouted, N"low, old Scrub, I'm ready for you. With this corroboration of her evidence, I defy judge or jury to rule out her testimony." Alarmed by the uproar, Aunt Dorothy came in all haste to the scene, for she had heard the heavy, stun- ning sound of the money-bag upon the floor, and the cry which followed it made her imagine a thousand mis- haps. As she entered the room, Saundy, who at Ar- thur's request had continued to ransack the safe, was in the act of handing out a large tray of massive silver, which Andy was preparing to place, with other ware of the same metal, upon the floor. Lifting up her hands in astonishment, with an exclamation of wild WHTE' OAK FARBM. 155 surprise% she hurried down-stairs, and was met by the colonel and Judge Woodhull, who had just concluded the discussion detailed in the preceding chapter. It was some time before the contents of the various apartments and drawers of the capacious safe were emptied. These consisted not only of a large amount of gold coin, in addition to the missing doubloons, to- gether with a liberal assortment of plate, both gold and silver, but a casket, marked "'Amy Lawrence," in raised letters of gold, containing his mother's jewels, was pro- duced from one of the secret drawers. This Arthur quietly put into Jeannie's hand so soon as Saundy drew it from its place of concealment. But by far the most important and valuable articles were the papers, care- fully labelled in Judge Clarence's handwriting. "By your permission, Arthur," said Andy, "I would like, as your attorney, to examine these papers with you and Judge Woodhull." "By all means, Andy," said his friend. A glance was sufficient to explain all to the colonel and Judge Woodhull upon their first entrance. With 'the generous enthusiasm which was so. eminently cha- racteristic of him, the old gentleman threw his arms. around Arthur's neck, and exclaimed, "God's, blessing go with the wealth he has sent you, my dear Arthur. You have borne the yoke in your youth, and you will not be spoiled by a thousand times the worth of this gear. From my heart I congratulate ye, Arthur." "My dear, kind friend and father," said Clarence,. "this is like you. I am proud to be your debtor; but, if there is any thing there that you can use, H-" "Not a word of that kind, Arthur!" replied the colo- nel, almost sternly. It would be a hopeless task to attempt to portray the enthusiasm of that excited group. Arthur Clarence was the only one who retained his self-control. It was not , , . page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, from greed or love of money or treasure; for they had not only enough without it, but this was the property of another. A feeling of deep sympathy for the noble young man who had borne adversity with uncomplain- ing meekness, and whom from childhood they had loved for his own sake, kindled into emotions of generous tri- umph, when they saw that Providence was preparing a happy retribution of joy to the patient sufferer, and a measure of ample justice to his unprincipled persecutor. It was an unselfish joy; and, grateful as the sense of in- dependence is to every honorable mind, the generous sympathy which poured its congratulations upon him rendered it doubly acceptable to Arthur Clarence. Jeannie appreciated his feelings; and the laughing gayety which lit up her lovely countenance with its habitual joyousness gave way to an expression of quiet gratitude, and she left the room, unobserved by any excepting Arthur, to pour out her heart in thankfulness to God, for relieving the object of her plighted love from that galling sense of dependence which had so long op- pressed him. An hour had not elapsed before the stirring incidents just narrated were circulated in the quarter. Betty, the cook, encountered Basil on the lawn, and added divers supplements to the disjointed narrative of Aunt Dorothy; and at the risk of burning the turkey, which was de; signed as one of the staples of the approaching dinner, she stood parleying with the old negro, who drank in the tidings with open mouth and eyes and ears; and, gathering enough from her statement to fill his heart to overflowing, (for Arthur Clarence had grown in his esteem until he was second to no man living, unless it might be his venerable master,) he twirled his old straw hat be- tween his finger and thumb, and sent it flying into the air with a hurrah, and, scarcely noticing that the faith- fil head-gear had been caught by a projecting twig of an WHTE OAK FARM. 157 oak-tree, he gave vent to his joy in a series of gyrations which might have been graceful had not one recusant limb' refused to keep time or pace with the other. Alter- nately ejaculating all manner of expressions of astonish- ment and joy, and performing feats of ground-and-lofty- tumbling, he settled down at last into an energetic shout, which summoned half a dozen of his companions, who looked at "Old Boss" in perfect bewilderment. "Ho! boys! I's got de news! Wish you all knowed what I knows. Hip, hip, hurrah! Now, won't dat ole Scrub git rats? De fust bisness 'll be, shoot dem red- mouf hounds, and den give old Scrub his desarts. Don' I know? Mam Tacey told me long ago dat place b'longed to Massa Clarence," exclaimed the old negro. "What's all dis fuss fur, boss?" inquired Jim; whilst his companions, laughing at Basil's unusual excitement, crowded around him to hear the particulars, which Basir gave as fast and as truly as he had learned them. "Dis fuss?" retorted Basil. "I tell you, niggas, fust and fo'most, Massa Clarence has jes' dis very mornin' diskivered 'bout five million tree hun'red and forty-seven thousand doubloons, mo' or less, de property of de vene- rable Judge Clarence deceased. Den, second, he's foun' a four-hoss load of gold and silver dishes and dinna- plates. Den, third, he's foun' all de jeweldry and trin- kets dat ever belonged to his moder, de lamented wife ob his fader. And fourt', dis fuss, nigga," turning to Jim, "is jes' kase de connuptials of Massa Clarence and Miss Jeannie is gwine to take place werry shortly, or I don' know nuffin; and last, dat ole Scrub, de riprobate soul- driver, de off-scrubbings of creation, is boun' to git what's resarved for him in de courts of de State of Virginny! Dat's what dis fuss is fur! Now, whar's my hat?" The enthusiasm of old Basil caught the sympathies. of his associates and burned like fire in a prairie. With a shout of hurrahs, they ran down to the quarter and cir-' " page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, culated the intelligence, until it was in everybody's mouth, but with variations so grotesque that it would have puzzled even the originator of the extravagance to have detected his- own version of the affair. From the quarter at White Oak, it spread to Scrub's plantation; and the arrest of the proprietor, immediately upon his return to his house, increased the excitement, until the poor negroes for miles around were in a state of perfect bewilderment. The writ upon which Scrub was arrested was made returnable that afternoon to Judge Woodhull, who directed the prisoner to be brought at once to White Oak, that he might undergo an examination preliminary to his committal to answer this heinous offence, of which the papers discovered in Judge Clarence's safe convicted him. Andy himself went as a special express for Judge Fofsyth, the associate of Judge Woodhull, and never did Black Hawk fly over the course with greater speed than on the present occasion. The road was somewhat heavy from the rain of the preceding night; but, without regard to the splashing mud, the impetuous rider drew the rein upon the no less willing steed, and let him take his fill of the exciting career. As he dashed through the quarter, he was greeted with a loud hurrah, to which he replied by waving his hat, and was soon out of sight. WHTE OAK FARM. 159 CHAPTER XIV. JUDGES in the courts of law in Virginia frequently discharge the duties which in some of the Northern States are committed to justices of the peace. -The sum- mons which had been addressed by Judge Woodhull to his colleague received prompt attention, and, as the news spread in the neighborhood, a large number of the colo- nel's friends repaired to White Oak, to ascertain the real state of affairs. The crisis, however, was one which called for the exercise of more than ordinary prudence; and the gentlemen who were interested contented them- selves with simply inviting those who were so disposed to be present at the preliminary examination, which was to begin by appointment at 4 P M. Meanwhile, a careful examination of the 'documents which had been so opportunely discovered revealed a tissue of frauds the most complicated and atrocious. Mortgages and judgments to a very large amount, held by Judge Clarence as security for money loaned at dif- ferent periods to Mr. Scrub, and covering his entire pro- perty, besides notes of hand acknowledging indebtedness for various sums, but which under ordinary circum- stances would long since have become invalid by the statute of limitations, were now in the possession of Arthur's attorney. False entries, and fictitious items of indebtedness, had been entered by the unscrupulous executors of his estate; and by a scheme. of well-devised fraud and forgery, in which the documentary evidence implicated Sharp as an active accomplice, the entire estate had been absorbed and wrested from its- legal heir, page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, with the exception of the pittance which had been saved, through the intervention of Colonel Lawrence, during Arthur's infancy. At the time appointed, Scrub made his appearance at White Oak, accompanied by his attorney, Captain Barber. Upon his arrival, he was ushered into the library, where the judges were in attendance with Andy Lawrence and the male members of the colonel's family, with the excep- tion of Arthur Clarence. Captain Barber bowed with easy politeness, and his air was that of an advocate who is sure of his cause and therefore gives himself no other concern than to follow the usual routine of a formula which he knows must result in the discharge of his client. Scrub was silent. A scowl of indignation and hatred was settled on his forbidding features, and the cool in- difference with which he was treated by the outside party, who were awaiting his arrival with some impa- tience, rendered the expression of his countenance still more forbidding. "May I ask," said Captain Barber, with some little hauteur, what is the charge upon which this gentleman has been arrested?"' "It will give me pleasure, your honors, to satisfy an inquiry so very reasonable," replied Andy; "and, with your permission, I will proceed with certain statements, which I propose to lay before you.' ' I confess, gentlemen," said Captain Barber, with a sarcastic smile, " these proceedings have taken us some- what by surprise. -My client was preparing to enter suit against certain parties, not a hundred miles off, for clandestinely entering his house at midnight, and tampering with his slaves, in a manner utterly con- trary to all law and precedent, and more worthy gen- tlemen of a region infested with fanatical abolitionists, than of a district in the Old Dominion. But, though sur- WHTE OAK FARM. 161 prised at the audacity of this suit, we are by no means alarmed, gentlemen: they are on a par with certain other high-handed measures in which the same parties," bowing with mock politeness to his opponent, "have already figured. We are content, however, to bide our time; and we are not without means of redress." There was a momentary pause after this deliverance, which was received by Andy with a smile of cool equa- nimity that was manifestly by no means refreshing to Captain Barber. -"If your honors are ready," resumed Andy, "we will proceed with the matter for which we have been sum- moned. One suit is enough at a time; and I am greatly mistaken if this will not prove the last that the captain's client will ever wish to engage in, so long as he remains a member of this community. By your leave, I will proceed." The judges intimated that they were prepared for the hearing, and Andy proceeded. He said that, as this was merely a preliminary process, he should content himself with a succinct statement of certain facts upon which he should ask the court to commit the defendant for trial. He then briefly reviewed the circumstances under which Scrub had gained the confidence of Judge Clarence; the mystery which had for so many years hung over the affairs of the deceased; the dark suspicions of fraud; the fact that a large sum of money had been paid to the late judge within a few days of his death, in bank-notes and gold, which the executors had never accounted for; the sudden and marvellous change in the circumstances of the defendant after the settlement of the estate com- mitted to his trust, and the difficulty under which the friends of Judge Clarence and his heir-at-law had labored, for so many years, to bring home to the defendant the actual perpetration of the enormous frauds which sus- picion attached to his name and agency. Their per- L 14* page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, plexity had been extreme. There had been at times certain openings, which seemed to admit a glimmer of light upon the dark transactions which had robbed a helpless orphan of his patrimony; but these revelations had been so restricted by legal disabilities that they would have been insufficient to convict the prisoner, had not a providential confirmation of these frauds rendered them no longer a matter of speculation. The countenance of Scrub, which had retained an expression of impudent defiance up to this stage of the plea, began to indicate a degree of disquiet and pertur- bation too evident to escape detection. He became deadly pale. Rising from the chair in which he was seated, he exclaimed,- '"I protest against the reception of slave-testimony in a case like this. It is against the law of the land F" Captain Barber looked at Scrub with a disconcerted air, and whispered to him to be calm and leave his case with him. "I am not aware," said Andy, "that as yet I have said any thing about slave-testimony in this case, though I am prepared to prove that the poor woman whose years of domestic incarceration have been recently ended by the Great Liberator never was the slave of the de- fendant in law; that she was a free woman; and that the defendant is liable to another action at law for piracy in her case: but I waive that matter for tie present. She is dead; 'and, though the majesty of violated law may have some claim upon her oppressor, the victim is be- yond the reach of any reparation the law can make. Let that pass, therefore!" "Kate has been dead these two years!" exclaimed Scrub, whose face had assumed an ashy paleness, and Who, though aware of the visit to his domicile, had been informed by Jacob that the party had not gained access to the room in which Kate was imprisoned. The WHTE OAK FARM. 163 first information which he had received came through one of his servants, who had seen the carriage of Colonel Lawrence when it drew up at the gate, but was unable to tell who were its occupants. Upon questioning Jacob, that personage, with characteristic truthfulness, denied- all knowledge whatever of the subject. He had seen nobody. "Besides, who'd ever think of turning out in sich a drefful storm?" He had a score of interro- gatory asseverations, which his master cut short with a raw hide, under the influence of which Jacob was at last brought to remember that " dere had Jbeen some of de folks from White Oak dar, he believed now, but he had thought it was a dream, 'cause it was late when dey come; but dey had gone 'way agen, afore de storm cared, off." "Did they see Kate?" inquired Scrub, whose raw hide was flourishing around Jacob's ears in a proximity which was by no means comfortable. "Kate!" exclaimed Jacob, with well-affected surprise. "Why, Massa Scrub, she been dead dese two years! YoUt tole me so you'self! I didn't know Kate was alive. I thought she gone long ago! Did so," rejoined Jacob, rubbing the shoulder which his master had been beating, and making all manner of contortions, indicative of suffering. This was a poser to Scrub, and he muttered a curse between his teeth upon his own abstraction, which had made him inadvertently betray his secret. Deceived, however,lby the asseverations of the negro, whom long practice had made an adept at lying, he quieted his un- easiness by assuring himself that the visit, whether intended for Kate or not, had been unproductive of result, and he therefore ventured upon the hazardous experiment of repeating the falsehood to which he had given currency on his estate; for as yet he had not been informed of her death. Molly, the poor half-witted - page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, negress, had not ventured to return to her post, and was secreted in the quarter, to which Tacey had sent her on the preceding evening, telling her that she would her- self take care of Kate until the next morning. The asseveration that Kate had been dead for so long a period fell with leaden weight upon the ears of those who had only a few hours since listened to her dying testimony. Captain Barber manifested some vexation at this im- promptu interference of his client, and, with a tone of increased emphasis, whispered his request either to allow him to conduct the case or to release him from all further responsibility. But Scrub had meanwhile caught the expression of Andy's countenance, and his confusion became still more uncontrollable. He was wholly unprepared for the ter- rible exposure which his falsehood and perfidy had courted. "May it please you," said Andy, "I am glad for the defendant's sake that he is not under oath; for there are those present in this room who hearcd that poor woman, not twenty-four hours ago, tell, with her ex- piring breath, how she had seen a man and his accom- plice take from a drawer in that secretary, and in this very room, a roll of bank-notes amounting to many thousands of dollars; whilst their benefactor lay, shrouded in death, in the house which they were plun- dering. That poor woman, sir, is dead! But, before she left the house which had been her prison, for a home where the weary are at rest and the wicked cease from troubling, she gave information which has led us to a discovery that not only corroborates her testimony in relation to the individuals whom she named, but whom I do not name: I mean the thieves who plundered that desk,-the thieves who robbed the poor orphan boy whom they were sworn to protect: but, what is more, WHTE OAK FARM.- 165 her testimony puts into our possession documentary evidence, in the handwriting of the defendant, which bears with damning weight upon him, and convicts him beyond controversy of a fraud unparalleled in the annals of this district for atrocity and utter disregard of all the dictates of humanity." The wretched culprit rose from his seat, and, with an agitation which it was impossible to conceal, stammered out a few unintelligible words; but, suddenly reeling forward, as though crushed by a burden which he could no longer sustain, he would have fallen prostrate upon the floor, had not Captain Barber caught him in his arms. The poor man was borne away to another room, and, by the application of remedies which were promptly administered by Saundy and Arthur Clarence, he was restored to consciousness. With returning sensibility, the first object which met his sight was the young man whom he had so cruelly wronged, and who was bending over him with anxious solicitude, endeavoring to ad- minister relief. Bursting into tears, he exclaimed, "I am a ruined man; but I deserve it all." Arthur was deeply affected at the sight of the man's wretchedness, and, with the impulse of his generous nature, was ready to forgive all the wrongs of the past at the first indication of sincere contrition. Turning to the friends who had followed them into the room, he requested, as a favor, that they would all withdraw, with the exception of the counsel who were engagd in the suit, and Colonel Lawrence and the doctor. They were no sooner alone, than Arthur, turning to Mr. Scrub, assured him that he was actuated by no vindictive feel- ing, and that he was ready and anxious to spare him, so far as his duty permitted: he had therefore requested his attorney, in the first instance, to institute a civil suit, and to waive all criminal prosecution until he had given page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Mr. Scrub the opportunity of saving himself from the inevitable consequences of such a process. "The way of the transgressor is hard!" murmured the unhappy man. "My sin has found me out. I own it. I am guilty!" And the old man sobbed aloud. "There's mercy for the chief of sinners," exclaimed. the colonel; and the two old men bowed their heads and wept together. "Am I to understand, sir," said Captain Barber, " that you acknowledge yourself guilty of the theft to which Mr. Lawrence has alluded?" "I do acknowledge it," replied Scrub. "I am guilty." Captain Barber bit his lip. He was a man of high- toned feelings of honor, but without the least pretension to any higher moral or religious profession. Pausing a moment in front of his client, he cast upon the miserable man a look of ineffable scorn, and then, bowing to the company, he said,- "In that case, gentlemen, my presence can be no longer of any service, and I will therefore take my leave." "Captain Barber," replied Arthur, " you will confer a personal favor if you will remain." The captain hesitated a moment; but the frank cor- diality with which the old colonel accosted him, begging him to accede to the request, disarmed the hauteur which the recollection of his former relation as the friend of the younger Scrub, and the bearer of a hostile message to Arthur, threw around his deportment; and, with an expression of bland acquiescence, he resumed his seat. "I do not wonder that you despise me, captain; for I despise myself," said the unhappy man. "I do not despise you," replied the colonel. "God for- bid that any of us should. It is a painful thing, I know. Your head is white, like my own; but it is not too late for you to forsake your sin. Thank God for that!" WHTE OAK FARM. 167 'Mr. Scrub," said Captain Barber, "my professional relation to you is at an end. I can be of no further ser- vice as your attorney in -this case, and, as an honorable man, I cannot undertake your defence in the face of your own acknowledgment; but I must say, sir, that you owe it to yourself and to all interested, to state the whole truth in relation to this painful subject. As your lawyer, I might have advised a different course an hour ago; but, as you have surrendered the case of your own free will, I believe there is no other alter- native." '"I know it, captain, and I am ready to relieve my conscience of a weight that has oppressed me for the last twenty years. I am happier now--abject that I am,. villain as I confess myself-than at any period of my life since I forfeited my self-respect. I will not detain you, however," said the poor man. There was a pause, during which Mr. Scrub seemed to be struggling with his emotions. "Mr. Scrub," said Andy, "I have reason to believe that you were not alone in your transgression." ;: "I have no wish to implicate any one besides myself; and yet truth requires me to state the whole occurrence as it transpired. It is as fresh in my recollection as though it had happened only yesterday," resumed the unhappy man, "and I could not forget it if! would, A few days before Judge Clarence's death, he received fifty thousand dollars, the proceeds of a plantation which he sold in Georgia. After his death--which was sudden, as you all know-I administered to his estate. A part of that money, amounting to thirty-four thousand-dollars; I found in bank-notes in the secretary. Mr. Sharp was with me at the time. We determined to appropriate it to our own use. We did so. I paid for the plantation on which I now reside, and ten negroes; with my share of the proceeds. Sharp got ten thousand dollars. The $ page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, remainder of the money I never found. The plate be- longing to the family I was never able to discover, though I confess I made most diligent search. In addi- tion to that money, I am indebted to the estate of Judge Clarence for large sums which I borrowed from him on various occasions, and by a series of forgeries and false entries, in connection with my accomplice, I absorbed the proceeds of the entire estate, and left this young man, who had been intrusted to my care, almost a penniless orphan. But God is just; and I am ready to restore, so far as I can do it, what I have wrested from him, and then I will hide my dishonored head in a prison-cell, until it can be buried out of sight in the grave." A gush of tears overwhelmed the unhappy man, and he was unable to proceed. "Mr. Scrub," said Arthur, so soon as he could com- mand his feelings sufficiently to speak, "we have, this day, found the missing articles; and they corroborate your statement. And now, I have a proposition to make to you. I am willing to stay all further proceed- ings. The confession you have made shall be sacred and inviolate; but you must be aware that your further continuance in this community is impossible. I shall expect you to make restitution to the full extent of your ability, and then I will make ample provision for your maintenance in respectability and comfort during the remainder of your life." "That is handsome, sir," exclaimed Captain Barber, extending his hand to young Clarence; "and it is as generous a proposition as the most exacting friend of Mr. Scrub could suggest." "It is more than I could either ask or expect," said Scrub; "and I can hardly accept it." "There is one thing more." said Arthur. "Do you know where Kate's daughter Amy is at present?" WHTE OAK FARM. 169 "I do," replied Scrub, shuddering as though an arrow had pierced him. "That young woman is free in accordance with the law of Virginia; for she follows the condition of her mother, who was emancipated by my father; and I am anxious to see that the debt I owe to poor Kate is paid, so far as I can do it," said Arthur. "Amy is my daughter," groaned the. old man. "Can you put it in my power to secure her freedom?" inquired Arthur. "It shall be done, Mr. Clarence," said Scrub; "and, if you will afford me a private interview, I will redeem my pledge. She can be sent to White Oak in two days' time. She is in Baltimore." "I am satisfied," said Arthur. "Do I understand, Mr. Scrub, that you accede to this proposition?" ' "I do accede to it, most thankfully,' replied the old man. Arthur silently extended his hand in token of his satisfaction with the arrangement and of his reconcilia- tion and forgiveness. "Mr. Clarence," said the old man, "you offer me your hand. What does this mean?" "It means," said Arthur, 'that I am your friend." "My FRIEND!"And the old man bowed his head, and, covering his face with his hands, wept aloud. The deeds of transfer were prepared by the attorneys; and, in the presence of the two judges and of the party who had been closeted with Mr. Scrub, the signature of the penitent man was appended. A nolle prosequi was entered, and Mr. Scrub, in less than twenty-four hours, had left the State of Virginia, never to return. It is needless to say that the pledge which Arthur made to him was fully redeemed: ample provision for his maintenance was secured to him, and he lived for many years, proving by his amended life the sincerity of his repentance. 15 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Captain Barber, at the request of Arthur Clarence, promised to attend to the items of business which di- rectly concerned Mr. Sharp; and, as the case was a plain one, admitting of no possibility of evasion or escape, a single interview with that astute practitioner brought the gentleman to terms. He surrendered the plunder, however, with an ill grace; and Captain Barber was under the necessity of exacting the restitution, item by item, as the documentary evidence of his own signature appended to the discovered papers rendered these feats of honesty expedient in the estimation of the reluctant restorer. Money, landed property, and negroes, passed out of his hands, until more than three-fourths of a large estate was absorbed; and, though a heavy claim was still pending against him, Clarence directed Captain Barber, who was disposed to strip the miscreant of every shred of property, to suspend all farther proceedings. Upon one point, however, his injured creditor was inexorable. He insisted upon the transfer to himself of every servant claimed by Sharp as his property. He was deaf to the piteous entreaties of the convicted thief to allow him to retain a single man, woman, or child; and he moreover intimated to the fellow that any attempt on his part to hold such property in the future would insure the enforced payment of certain judgments and mortgages, which would otherwise remain quiescent, out of regard to the wants of his wife and children. To these terms Sharp was fain to submit. A plantation adjoining that which had been transferred to Clarence by his former guardian, and which had been purchased by the .plunder of his father's estate, passed into the hands of its rightful owner, with all the hereditaments, appurtenances, ayd chattels; and a few weeks sufficed to establish the claims which gave Arthur Clarence an op- portunity to carry but his cherished desire of devoting his energies to the duties of Christian philanthropy. WHTE OAK FARM. - 171 CR APTER XV. THE heat of the summer was spent, and the early frosts of autumn had already covered the forests with that glow of decaying beauty which renders an Ame- rican landscape glorious beyond all the scenes of nature's loveliness. The sky, with its clear, intense azure, fading into fainter shade towards the horizon, was radiant with the brightness of a cloudless noon, and the delicious temperature of the early autumn seemed to inspire every creature of life with unwonted cheerfulness. The little birds twittered their liveliest airs. The gorgeous autumn flowers expanded their showy blossoms, glittering by the wayside, in the field, and through the wood. The asters, purple, white, and yellow, the solidagos, with their panicles of gold, and the clusters of convolvulus, trailing along the hedge-rows, spread their garlands of blossoms like nature's offerings to the Great Creator. It was a glorious day. It was a great day at White Oak. From early morn- ing there had been an unusual bustle and stir among its denizens. The colonel was on horseback at half-past six o'clock praceesely. Before that hour, Basil might have been seen by the reader, if an early riser, standing like a Parsee, with almanac in one hand and Watch in the other,-the same old ball-shaped watch--watching for "the rising sun. He was there to regulate, not the sun, but his timepiece. With spectacles on nose, atnd his eye fixed upon the well-worn almanac, the old negro stood on a little knoll in a pasture-field, surrounded by some noble specimens of Southdown sheep, which rubbed page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, their noses with familiar confidence against his nether limbs, and looked wistfully at the preparations for an observation. "Go 'way, and don' boder me. I's got no salt for you dis mornin', " said the old negro; but the tones of the old man's voice seemed, even in the effort at repulse, to settle down unconsciously into a strain of unwonted mildness; and, whether the subjects of his objurgatory remonstrances understood it or not, they were by no means embarrassed by any apprehension. "Go 'way, I tell you: don' you hear?" repeated the shepherd, as his woolly charge crowded bleating around him. "You ort to know better nor to be 'sturbin' me dis mornin'." At this moment the broad disk of the sun shot its bur- nished rim above the horizon, and the observer, stretching one limb before him, and holding the almanac at half arm's-length, peered through the round glasses of his silver spectacles until the forefinger of the other hand, which held the open watch, settled upon the date. "October de second--sun rises, 5 h. 59 m. Dar now, Colonel Lawrence wants to be on ole Roan's back at half- past six, and ef de sun had ris' an hour ago he'd a been hollaring, 'Basil, mon!' for de las' half-hour. Well, he's a dear ole master, de Lord bless him. I reckon I better jes' make tracks over to de stable and see if Jim's got de hosses all snug, for dey'll be wanted to-day." And now, says the reader, what is the meaning of all this? A wedding, I suppose, says our aunt Tabitha. A wedding? No, ma'am. You are too late. The wedding of Arthur Clarence, Esq., and Jeannie Lawrence, took place four weeks ago. Do not frown, my gentle friend. We could not invite you to be present, because Miss Jeannie preferred to have this affair managed after her own mind. We would have been glad to have had your company; but what can a poor author do in such a case but obey orders? The " happy pair" are expected WHTE OAK FARM. 178 at home between twelve and one o'clockr P.. Hence all these notes of busy preparation. You are welcome to come with us to White Oak. Aunt Dorothy has been instructing the junior members of the colored sodality in the manners they are to exhibit on the occasion. We told you, at the beginning of thb chapter, that it was noon. So it was: but we were anticipating; the scene in the earlier history of the day- is an episode. But at noon, you observe, old Basil, arrayed in his very best, with a sprig of jessamine in the buttonhole of his glossy coat, stands at the front-gate of the lawn, peering up the road with an anxious face. Away up on yonder hill is an old pine-tree. - The top branches are dead, and the dry limbs; stripped of all their greenness, stretch out their withered arms as though inviting the crows to roost; and there, sure enough, is a dark object, perched on the topmost bough. It is too big for a crow: besides, though a biped, it is no bird at all. It is Turvy,-rol- licking, fun-loving, work-despising Turvy. He has a stick in his hand, to which is attached something that looks like a white handkerchief. This he has been in- structed to wave from his look-out- as a signal, so soon as the anxiously-expected party loom in sight. There he sits, chattering all sorts of congratulations to him- self,-now catching up the strain of some favorite melody, and anon giving vent to the exuberance of his feelings by imitating the cawing of a crow, the crow-. ing of a cock, the squeal of a pig, the mewing of a cat, or the barking of a dog, interspersed with variations and fantasias which it would be tedious to enumerate. Turvy's perch commands a view of at least a mile of level road, and he has been straitly charged, under pain of divers smacks, spanks, and other corrective ap- pliances, by no means to wave the white flag until he is quite sure that " the folks" are in view. The penalty he does not regard as formidable, inasmuch as it has 15* page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, very seldom been inflicted, though "Ole Boss" has some- times made at him with ferocious grimace and threaten- ing attitude; but Turvy is an adept at dodging; and, whilst revolving in his mind the order of the day, he breaks out into a ringing laugh, and, swaying to and fro on the limb, soliloquizes his defiance:- "Ole Boss don' cotch dis young chile! Yah! he! ho! He may come arter me wid a big stick, and look as fearce as a buck rabbit:--he can't skeer me,-I isn't one of dat sort. I's jes' got a good min' to swing dis napkin mammy gave me, for fun! Wouldn't I laugh, now, to see Ole Boss come a-runnin' up de hill?"And, no longer able to resist the temptation, the little scamp broke out into a wild whoop, and waved his flag, as though in a frenzy of joyful congratulation. Basil catches the sight, but half suspects that it is a false alarm, for the ante- cedents of the announcement have not been altogether satisfactory. Besides, his watch tells him that at least fifteen minutes more must pass before the arrival can be reasonably expected. He mutters,- "Dat Turvy's at his tricks, de young scape-grace! But you don't cotch ole birds wid chaff, neider." Shaking a switch at the urchin, who was peeping over his shoulder to see the effects of his signal, the old negro exclaimed, "I's gwine to settle wid ye, when you gits down." Meanwhile, the lawn is covered with groups of ser- vants, who have assembled from the quarter of White Oak, and from the adjoining estate of Arthur Clarence. Young men and girls, old folks, and children of all sizes and ages almost,-toddling weans, and infants in their mothers' arms,-all are there. The gay holiday attire and the parti-colored dresses, some gaudy almost to tawdriness, others neat and tasteful, indicating the various grades of the refinement of the wearers, throw a picturesque coloring over the scene. Let us join that WHTE OAK FAR M. 175 party standing around Jacob, who has heretofore occupied a *quasi-overseership on the plantation formerly in the possession of Mr. Scrub, but who now looks like a new man, in his snug suit of eassimere and linen, and wears the air of a distingud. He is holding forth on the sub- ject of the relative privileges of the houses of Lawrence and Clarence, and has wound up a cordial panegyric on his young master and missus, and ,a most complimentary allusion to the " ole kernil" anid the folks at White Oak in general, with the emphatic declaration that "he'd as lief, and a great sight liefer, live on de place whar he b'longed, dan be like some folks he knowed dat was allers a-blowin' about deir free papers." ' Miss Jeannie b'longs on dis yer place, Mister Jacob," retorted one of the house-servants at White Oak, who answered to the name of Sallie; " and I's not gwine to hear you talk 'bout de young massa and his Jeannie as though they are gwine to forsake ole friends for -new ones." "I's not dispose to give offence to you, Miss Sallie," said Jacob, with a bow that would have done credit to a dancing-master; " but, howsumdever, I has de honor to say dat 'Squire Clarence and his lady am my master and missus, and I's entirely satisfied wid de 'rangement." "Well," responded a venerable negro, who was known as Moses, though he more frequently answered to the familiar abbreviation of -"'Ses," "it's- my honna, gem- men and ladies, to be a free man. I's no man's man, but 'ceptin' myself." And here Moses drew himself up with an air of conscious dignity, and'twitched at the arm of a well-patched summer coat, as though trying to stretch the cuff, which was provokingly short. "I has my papers, gemmen: I's no man's mran, but -- " "Pity you warn't," retorted Jacob, with a good- humored smile. ars no man's man, sa," repeated Moses; "but ef I page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, wanted a master I should be wery well satisfied wid eider of de 'spectable gemmen you has named." 4 "Oh, 'Ses, now jes' you shet up," exclaimed a tall negro, whose broad face shone with easy contentment, and whose brawny limbs were encased in a neat suit of new clothes. (You's allers a-talkin' 'bout yer free papers, and now what's dey worth to you, 'Ses? I's heerd you ax Kernil Lawrence twenty times jes' to take you back. You teased de kernil to give you yer freedom, and fifteen years ago he guv it to you; and yet dar's not a year passes dat you don't get yer living off dis yer place; and if it hadn't been for de folks at dat house, and for Miss Jeannie in petic'lar, I wonder whar your wife Becky, and dat squad of young uns dat calls you 'fader 'Ses,' would have been afore dis? I reckon Becky don't think as much of de 'free papers' as some oder folks." This was rather hard upon poor Moses, for it was not only true, but the half had not been told. He received it, however, without any abatement of his self-esteem, and quietly replied " dat he was proud to number de venerable Kernil Lawrence among his pussonal friends." "Git eout!" roared Jacob, bending down with a loud explosion of laughter, which was echoed on all sides by the merry group, old 'Ses joining in the chorus with im- perturbable good-will. A shout from Basil-who, mounted on Old Gray, and flourishing a marshal's baton decked with ribbons, red, white, and blue, rode towards the party--set the whole lawn into commotion. "Fall in! fall into de ranks,--all of ye! de folks is jes' on de top of de hill, and in five minutes dey'll be here. Now, gemmen, you's got to put on yer civility," said Basil. "To de ladies I need say nuffin." And the marshal rode slowly between the file, who stood flank- WHTE OAK FARM. 1" ing both sides -of the broad gravel-walk which wound through the lawn. A shrill and continuous repetition of hurrahs from the pine-tree on the brow of the hill, and the waving of the white flag which was whirled around the head of Turvy, indicated the near approach of the party whose arrival was so eagerly expected. With a prolonged hoora--a--h! Turvy flung away his flagstaff, and, scrambling down from his perch, leaped over the felice, and, catching up one of the wreaths of wild-flowers which lay upon the sward, he scoured over the road to. meet a Miss Jeannie." The movement was observed by the party on the lawn, and, with a cry of exultation, Sue, whose marriage with Tom the reader will remem- ber, broke away from the ranks, followed by those im- mediately around her. Basil screamed and thundered, but, with a shout, the file gave way, despite of all at- tempts to restrain them. Over the lawn, through the gate, across the fences, in a stampede of enthusiasm, the whole colony broke away and dashed up the hill, leaving the master of ceremonies, disconcerted and solitary, at the gate. "Now, what's to help us?" groaned the poor man, in the keen anguish of disappointment. "If my ole massa would only 'low me to minister 'scipline! De place will be ruined if dere isn't more 'tention paid to orders. But, oh, dar's Miss Jeannie!' And, without another word, the old negro urged Gray to his speed, and soon over- took James McAlvan, who was running laughing after the scattered flock, though without the least desire to interfere with their purpose. The sight of Basil in his new rig provoked a smile from the Scotchman, to whom Basil bowed in passing, and he muttered the old pro- verb;- "Set a beggar on horseback, and he'll ride to the deevil.' The puir things!-they're as fain as if their ain page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, parents were coming hame; and it's a' richt as it should be. Let 'em gang their ain gait. It's love's tribute, and it's airned by them that get it. Let them wear thae flowers that win them," he continued, as Jeannie came in sight, decked with wreaths hanging around her neck and almost covering the pony, which seemed to enter into the spirit of the occasion, tossing his arched neck and neighing and curvetting; whilst Jeannie, laughing through her tears, answered as well as she could the hundred and one inquiries addressed to her by the members of her household, who ran from her to Arthur Clarence, clamoring a welcome whose sincerity touched every heart. "Bawsil, mon, I thocht ye were to ha'e a' this regi- ment drawn out in file before the house," said the colo- nel, as the chief-marshal, with hat in hand, bowed in his saddle till his head touched Old Gray's ears. "Colonel Lawrence, dat was de plan, and I had 'em all 'ranged right; but dey broke, sir, when dey seed Miss Jeannie-I ax pardon-Miss Jeannie Clarence-I mean .Missus Jeannie Clarence:-dey broke, sir; and, though I was mad at fust, sir, I don' wonder so much when I reflex on de circumstances ob dis great oc- casion." "Well, maister marshal," replied the colonel, "it will- na do to coort-martial them the day; but, in sober truth, mon, dinna ye see they're blockin' up the road, and the toddling things will be getting under the horses' feet?" In truth, the party were obliged to halt. "It's de wish of Colonel Lawrence, and de petic'lar bequest of Miss Jeannie-(kerfound it! I fergit it allers,") he muttered--"ob Missus Jeannie-excuse me, Miss Jeannie"---and here the old man fairly broke' down with vexation at the repetition of mistakes. WHTE -OAK FARM. 179 "Never mind," said Jeannie, laughing: . it makes no difference. Leave out the miss and the missus." "And then you won't miss the mark," said the colonel, who laughed at Basil's quandary. "I isn't 'customed to de change yet, Miss Jeannie;- kersmash!" muttered Basil; a dar it goes agen! What will I do? It's de desire ob dis company dat you clars de road!" exclaimed Basil, rallying with fresh energy, and waving his baton right and left. The space was soon left open. "Now, if you'll jes' obey orders, and de friends will be so wery obliging as to wait five minutes under dese trees, I'll endeavor to have you 'ranged as you ort to be in front of de house. lNow, go 'long, all of you, and fall in whar you b'longs." With a cheer for Ole Boss, the crowd obeyed his direction, and hurried back to the lawn. "Hadn't you better go with Basil, and help him, James?" said Andy, addressing the Scotchman. - "I's thousand times obliged, Massa Andy; but, if you's no objections, I doesn't want any 'sistance now," replied Basil, drawing out a snuff-box, which he opened and handed to James. James helped himself, and, giving his gratified nose a gentle tweak, observed, "tHe that willna help his neebor at a pinch isna worth a snuff. I'll be yer daiputy, maister marshal, if such is yer wull." "I's t'ankful for de honna, Mister McAlvan; but, if it's all de same to you, I's gwine to give 'em anoder trial. Dey'll perform de proper revolutions dis time," And Basil rode after -the crowd, who were already entering upon their former position. This time they certainly did perform more in accord- ance with the routine which the marshal had pre- scribed; but the prestige of the artificial was lost in the page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, natural expression of hearty welcome which had at first excited the resentment of the chief-manager. As it was, they cheered and hurrahed most lustily, and maintained tolerable order, as Basil acknowledged, until the caval- cade had passed about half-way towards the house, when the rearward broke and crowded upon the party who were nearest the portico, in defiance of all propriety. It was no use remonstrating; and, by the time that "Miss Jeannie" was ready to dismount, all appearance of rank or file had been merged in a cloud of dark and happy humanity, radiant with the joy of artless and undisguised affection, but restrained by a respectful deference, which was exhibited by the uncovered heads of the -men, who tried to catch "Miss Jeannie's" laugh- ing eye, and bowed with a politeness that bespoke at once their respect and the gratification they derived from the kind recognition of their young mistress. Even old Moses caught the general infection, and stood, cap in hand, offering his congratulations and good wishes; and he looked even prouder than his wont when Jeannie inquired after Becky and the children. ,' Deys right smart," replied Moses; " dey is so: and dey'll be glad to do you sarvice, liss Jeannie." ".Now, gemmcn," exclaimed Basil, "I begs leave to obsarve dat Missus Clarence is no doubt fatigued." "Who dat?" inquired Turvy, in a whisper, and grinning, at a safe distance from Basil's reach. "And darfore," continued the master of ceremo- nies, "de part of rail politeness will be for de com- pany to retire. And I's happy to inform you, dat, by order of Colonel Lawrence and Master Clarence, you are invited to partake of a fustrate dinner, which you will find at de quarter, already spread out on tables under de trees. So now, Miss Jeannie, (kersmash!) Ma'am Clarence, and young master, we will adjourn most respectful." And with this deliverance-which was WHTE OAK FARM. 181 answered by a merry Bmile from Jeannie, who waved her hand, and, leaning on Arthur's arm, entered their home once more-the assembly adjourned. CHAPTER XI. IN the course of the afternoon a large number of guests assembled from the surrounding country to offer their congratulations to the friends, who had just re- turned from their wedding-tour through some of the Western and Northern States. Dr. Haddon's family arrived shortly before Dr. Stanley, whose new barouche, with horse and harness in keeping, formed a very gen- teel establishment,-a fee from his former patient. Judges Woodhull and Forsyth, and Captain Barber, and a host of others, to whom we cannot introduce the reader at present, thronged to the hospitable mansion, in accordance with previous arrangement among them- selves. The colonel had evidently been laboring under a tendency to depression of spirits since Jeannie's de- parture, and even now he had scarcely regained the tone of buoyant happiness which was his usual temper. He could not endure the idea of a separation from the daughter who, since her mother's death, had been his companion in his morning and evening strolls on horse- back or on foot. He could not enjoy his meals without her. Even the tobacco-pipe, which was her special an- noyance, had lost its relish since she was not there to light the little taper that always burned in its silver stand on the table which supported his smoking gear, and to arrange the comforts of the smoking-room to his taste. He could not stand it. Aunt Dorothy did her 16 page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, best. It was of no use. She placed things just as Jeannie used to fix them. They were not right. Still, the colonel did not grumble or complain. He felt it, notwithstanding. His sunshine was gone. His sons and Judge Woodhull, Dr. Haddon and Dr. Stanley, came to his aid. They rode out with him; they sat and smoked with him; they gave him all the time they could spare; they rallied him on his despondency. He laughed at their wit, and endeavored with genuine politeness to be cheerful; but his mirth had lost its old metallic ring: it sounded like the heavy click of a leaden counterfeit. He admitted that the interests of Arthur's plantation required his presence at his own house. It was right that Jeannie should live there; but when he thought of his own fireside and of her absence from the "quarter," which blessed her as its angel of mercy, the tears ran down his cheeks, and Aunt Dorothy knew that his pil- low was often wet, though she had never seen him weep. That faithful soul communicated to Jeannie what she had observed, at the first opportunity after her arrival. Jeannie was in the East Room, just completing her toilet, with Aunt Dorothy's aid, (for aunty declared "she could not fix her twilight without her,") when she inquired confidentially into the reasons of her father's altered appearance. "Jeannie dear," said the kind domestic, "it's nothing in the world but just fretting after. you. Law me! When I make his bed, mornings, there's his pillow as wet as if it had been washed l" "' Poor, dear father!" said Jeannie, and her own face was bathed in tears: "has he said any thing about our, going to the new place?" "iN'o, love; he says nothing about it,-not a word, that I know; but I'm sure he is all the time thinking about it. I've seen him standing there in the library before. that telegraph of yours--" WHTE OAK FARM.- 188 -"Photograph," said Jeannie. Well, of course; it's the same thing; and he stands and looks at it as if you was buried instead of married, and then wipes his eyes, and sighs like as if he was carrying a heavy heart; and he's all the time unrestless) and he don't eat as hearty as he used to; and when he takes his pipe he'll smoke a while, to-be-sure, and he litters the room with the ashes as natural as he ever did, but he don't take hold with a hearty grip: he does it a kind of languish; and then, when folks talk to him, very often he don't seem to hear them. Law me, Jeannie! though I am sure nobody gratitudes you more heartily than I do, yet I declare I'm sometimes almost sorry that you a'n't just Jeannie Lawrence any more.' And poor aunty threw her arms around the girl's neck and mingled her tears with those which fell like rain- drops from Jeannie's eyes. "But this won't do, neither," said aunty, controlling herself by a sudden effort: " your eyes will be as red as your cheeks, Jeannie, and Arthur will see you've been crying.' "And suppose he does," said a voice that startled them both: "who has a better right than he to know the reason?" "Law me, Arthur! Mussy on us!" exclaimed aunty. Laughing at aunty's confusion, Jeannie raised her eyes, which were still suffused,-and, taking the hand which her liege-lord proffered, she assured him, in an- swer to his inquiries, that she had not shed a tear on her own account, and she did not mean to, either. 'Either laughing or'crying, or both in a breath, Jeannie, like showers on a warm April day: that's the way with you," said Arthur, as they stepped down the stairs. "And pray, Mr. Paul Pry, when have you seen me going through the latter of the two ceremonies since t . page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, consented to add your name to mine, with the exception of the present instance?" inquired Jeannie. "And why have I found you, Jeannie, like Niobe, all in tears, within the first hour after your return home?" said Arthur. "And yet the question may be improper: if' it is, Jeannie, I will withdraw it." "No, Arthur, I am sure I shall not stand on my re- served rights in this instance. Only do not expect me always to be as communicative as I am willing to be in the present instance; for I tell you, Mr. Clarence, when I promised obedience, I reserved to myself the right of laughing or crying at my own pleasure," said Jeannie. "A mental reservation that," replied Arthur. There is one thing in the fabric of. such verities as we are submitting to your inspection, kind reader, which may seem marvellous; and it may possibly at times puzzle you to know how, when a fond couple, in the full light of the honeymoon, are walking down-stairs, for example, all alone, we should still be in possession of a knowledge which reveals a fact such as we are about to state. We assure you that the last remark of the gentleman was accompanied by a hurried sound on his wife's cheek, which startled Aunt Dorothy in an adjoin- ing room and made her mutter something about the cork of her yeast-bottle. We do not, however, pretend to say definitely what it was. We might venture an opinion, but we modestly forbear, though, we feel as- sured, few of our lady readers, unless they be the dear aunties who have passed the limit of threescore, will maintain a similar reserve. The colonel was greatly surprised to find that neither Jeannie nor Arthur said a word about betaking them- selves to the new place. They not only joined the company at dinner, but remained as quietly at White Oak as though there were no other roof ready to shelter them. At length the old gentleman began to inquire WHTE OAK FARM. 185 -as the day was waning, and he knew the friends had come to give them an old-fashioned Virginia house- warming in their new quarters-whether they were not going to invite them to the house, which had been pre- pared, without stint of trouble or expense, for their re- ception. "Why, father dear," replied Jeannie, {are you so tired of us that you want to be rid of us instanter?" The'colonel looked with blank amazement. "If you have no objections, sir," continued Arthur, "we intend to stay here for a few weeks." "Sold!" exclaimed Captain Barber. "Here are we, your devoted and admiring friends, assembled, according to previous arrangement among ourselves, to spend an hour or so with you, and relieve the tedium of your loneliness at RESCUE GLADE; and, after poaching upon our old friend here, you arrest the whole proceeding, and spoil as pretty an evening's work as you could have desired." The colonel's lip quivered, and his countenance for a moment betrayed the working of deep emotion;- but he understood the whole movement, and so did the com- pany. Regaining- his self-possession, he said, with the Scotch accent and dialect,--which always would recur when his feelings were specially roused,-- "Dinna mind me. I'll no be sae lonely as ye think for." But here, despite of himself, his feelings were be- ginning to get the masteryT when Jeannie, with the ex- quisite tact which belongs to the sex, turned the whole current of thought by insisting that Helen Haddon should join her in a duet, to be accompanied by Saundy on the flute; and, moving towards the piano, which Ar- thur opened, she opened the book, and proposed a fan- tasia, by Thalberg. It was performed exquisitely, and at the close the company applauded with appreciative enthusiasm. 16s page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 THE OLIV'E-BRANCH; OR, "Well, I must say, Saundy," exclaimed Dr. Haddon, "you are a son of Orpheus i" "Na, na," retorted the colonel. "He's no that, for I'm nae Orpheus. But there's a resemblance, nae doot. Ye mind, doctor, that Orpheus used his lute to lure a pretty lass to become Mistress Orpheus; and that's what Saundy is after, or I'm nae judge in the matter." Helen bit her lip and smiled, Jeannie looked up archly at her brother, Saundy gave a spasmodic'strain upon his flute, and his face, whether flushed by the effort, or from some other cause, looked more ruddy than usual; and as for the others, they joined in a cho- rus improvisatore not to be found in any of the music- books, unless the famous laughing glee be taken as the nearest semblance to it on record. "Give us a song," said Andy, "and spare Saundy's breath; for his face is sae flushed with his last perform- ance that it will not gain its wonted color for the next hour." "Phew!" replied Saundy, tugging at his cravat and moving towards the window, with a good-humored smile: "it's getting warm." "When are you going to set sail for that haven?" in- quired Jeannie, with a provoking allusion to the scene in the East Room. "Not till the coast is clear, madam," replied Saundy. ' Ye're talking in parables," said the colonel. "Oh, Saundy understands!" exclaimed Andy. "Here's the song, Helen," Jeannie proceeded. "The words are original: they are an effusion from the pen of a certain witty lawyer; and, happening to find them one morning in the library, I have substituted them as an accompaniment to a familiar air. They are ar- ranged as a duet, for two voices alternately: the last is a chorus:- WHTE OAK FARM. l87 "TO A WAVE. "Wave, in beauty dashing by Seeming to be lost for aye, Comrn'st thou from the mermaid's cave? Tell us, ever-changing wave. "Didst thou wash the dolphin's breast Did the sea-gull on thee rest? Didst thou ship-keel passing lave? Tell us, ever-rolling wave. "Art thou from yon pendent cloud, ' Now the sun's bright mantling shroud? Art thou from the sailor's grave? Tell: but thou hast vanish'd, wave. Beauty, joy is in thine eye; Thy proud heart is bounding high; Health is on thy cheek; and now Death has settled on thy brow. "Haggard student, what thine aim? Thou wouldst gain a scholar's name, Thou wouldst climb yon rugged hill, Student! But his heart is still. "Warrior, who art wont to tread 'Mongst the dying and the dead, Thou art bravest of the brave: Tell us--Lo! the warrior's grave! "Wit! upon whose ready tongue Boon companions joyful hung, Men have fear'd thy gay retort: Worms now make thee, wit, their sport. "Wave, thou art an emblem fit Of student, warrior, beauty, wit. Mortal? But I may be dead Ere an answer can be said." The last notes of the song had scarcely died away when the voice of Basil was heard in the entry, in- quiring, in a tone of great earnestness, for Colonel Law- rence and Master Clarence. Arthur went to the door, and Basil, evidently under extraordinary excitement, page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, inquired if he could see de colonel and Massa Clarence for a few minutes. "De business is of de most 'mentous importance!" ex- claimed the poor negro, whose face was wet with tears. "Come in, Basil, unless it is a private matter," said Arthur. "Not'zactly private nor 'zactly public," replied the negro. "Well, come in, then: there are only a few frien'ds in the parlor, and they will all be glad to see you," said Arthur. "Dey might perhaps 'gard it as a kind of 'trusion," said Basil, hesitating. ".Not a bit of it. Come in: they will all be glad to see you." And Arthur led the faithful negro into the parlor. With a profound bow, the old man stood with easy self-possession before the company. "Weel, Bawsil," said the colonel, kindly moving to- wards the old man, "what's the matter, mon? Ye seem to be in trouble." "Colonel Lawrence, I is in trouble,-de greatest kind of trouble. Dere's not been sich a 'currence on dis plan- tation never before,-never! and I jes' feels disgraced!" replied the negro. "What's up, mon?" said the colonel, calmly. "Oh, my mast'r, Tip has runned away! He's gone,- mast'r,-clar gone! de ongrateful varmint!" exclaimed Basil. "Well, let him go," said the colonel, quietly. "If you'll 'low me, sir, to go arter him, I can cotch him, and I'll have him back afore dis time to-morrow," said Basil. "Not a bit of it, Basil," said the colonel. "The fellow came to me yesterday for a pass, and I gave it, as I always do when it is asked for; and if he thinks he can WHTE OAK FARM. 189 care for himself, and chooses to disgrace himself by de- ceiving me, I am well rid of him. I want no malecon- tents at White Oak." "De brack varmint!" muttered Basil. "Why, sir, he had over two hundred dollars in de savings 'stution, and you'd jes' given him de new clothes, in honna of de wed- din' of our Miss Jeannie, and he was spruce as a 'possum in pussimon-time, and he's never known noffin but kind- ness sence he's ben on dis plantation; and to think, mast'r, dat he's disgraced de place and de people!-oh, sir, it jes' makes me rarin', hoppin' mad!" "Colonel, had not you better send after the rascal?" said Captain Barber. "Na, na, captain," said the colonel, shaking his head. " 'Ilka man to his ain gait,' as we say in Scotland. I'm weel shut o' him! ' Good riddance o' bad rubbish!' Let him go!" Captain Barber and several other gentlemen thought that, for the sake of example, Tip ought to be brought back. "Mast'r Clarence," said Basil, I's a'most sorry dat de fust thing that was done at Rescue Glade, in de way of improvement, was to knock dem two hounds on de head. Not dat I wants to see a pore crittur hunted wid 'em, but dey might jes' ben dar, for to skeer sich fellars as dat Tip, de sneakin' crittur dat he is!" The colonel knit his brow, and his eye flashed fire, as he exclaimed, in a tone of severity,- "Never speak of hounds to me, sir! They're a dis- grace to humanity; and I'm grieved to hear you say what you have just uttered!" "Now, may de Lord forgive me-!" said old Basil, the tears coursing down his cheeks. "I's a thousand times sorry I's guv offence: and I ax yer pardon, sir. Hounds wouldn't keep me, sir, and de fearob 'em is a pore means of keepin' sarvants at home, I know. We's larned here page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; or, dat love has greater power dan tarror. De hounds should tar me limb from limb, befo' I'd desart my ole mast'r." "Give us your hand, Basil," said the colonel, deeply moved by the old negro's distress. "I know ye're a true man, and ye're none the less my friend that God has made yer skin a few shades darker than my own. But never mind Tip. I'm mistaken if you don't see him back again of his own free will. Meanwhile, here's a glass of guid ale, and here's a bundle of Saundy's cigars: tak' 'em home wi' ye, and never fash yersel' about Tip, or a hundred Tips like him, but smoke yer pipe, and be content as I am." Basil's face glowed with an expression of grateful relief, and, taking the goblet which the colonel offered, he bowed to the company, and, looking first towards Jeannie and the ladies, and then at the colonel and the boys, he nodded as the glass touched his open lips, and, quietly saying, "My respec's, colonel!" the "Hector Dove" lit upon the nest to which Basil consigned it. "Here's a light, Basil," said Saundy, handing him a burning wax taper and a neatly-twisted paper cigar- lighter. "PI's obliged for de cigars, Massa Saundy," said Basil; "dey's de reg'lar plantation." And he rolled the smoke in his mouth, and puffed it with artistic skill through his nostrils. "Bless de Lord, but dey's good!"And, with a bow, the old negro passed out of the room, followed by Arthur. "In every thing give thanks!" said Dr. Haddon, smiling. "That's a noble fellow, colonel," said Captain Barber, after Basil had retired. "Indeed he is!" responded his master. "I do not know what I should do without him." "That man, in his simple-hearted devotion to your 4- WHTE OAK FARM. 191 family, reminds me of Eliezer, the servant of Abraham," observed Dr Haddon. "I have always admired that Scripture character as one of the noblest on record. Abraham was a slave-holder to all intents and purposes, and in the very acceptance which some of our Northern friends deem most odious." ' By-the-way, that reminds me," said Saundy, " of a little passage I heard not long ago between our trusty henchman, James McAlvan, and a somewhat earnest opponent of the 'peculiar institution,' as it has been termed. I was attracted by the vigorous and emphatic mode of delivery which James's opponent in the contro- versy exhibited, and, not knowing what the case in hand might be, I came in as a kind of peacemaker; for James, though not easily provoked, is sometimes a little testy. But I found him as calm as a summer's morning; and, as I drew up, he was laughing in his dry, quiet way. The other party withdrew. He is one of the squatters whom you find hanging on' the outskirts of White Oak, and who live Heaven knows how,-very much like gyp- sies, though, I suspect. These squatters are generally violent opponents of slavery, and abuse us without stint behind our backs, though there is not a more obsequious race before our faces. I asked James what was the matter. "'Ech! Sapndy,' says he, 'but the cratur's as mad as a March hare.' "' What about?' said I. ' Aweel!' says James, 'he cam' talkin' aboot this. slavery and its cruelty, and how shamefu' it was for folks that made pretence to believe the Bible, to be holding their fellow-men as their servants for life; and so, says I, "-Mon alive! dinna ye ken that the father of the faith- ful had man-servants and maid-servants born in his house?" "Na,' says he; "there's nae truth-in it." " The moor's the pity for yer ignorance," says I. "And page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, dinna ye ken that the blessed dead wha die in the Lord gang straight till Abraham's bosom?" "I wadn't go to the bosom of a slave-hoolder," says he. And, wi' that, I laughed in a quiet way, and telled him, "Maybe ye'll no be invited;" and then he brak' out in a tearin' rage and went bock till his kennel,-the puir cratur'.' James's sarcasm, given in Saundy's capital imitation of the sturdy Scotchman's intonations, provoked a laugh at his discomfited assailant. "Colonel Lawrence," said Captain Barber, "do you think, now, it is right to allow such men as many of these squatters notoriously are, to tamper. with your servants? Is it not altogether probable that Tip's defection may be traced to the instigation of these people?" "The thing is possible," replied the colonel, "but I cannot prove it; and I do not wish to be hard on them. I have allowed them to take up portions of the land which we do not cultivate, and to occupy some tene- ments which we can spare, charging them a nominal rent, which they never pay, but which I claim merely to bar them from pleading the statute of occupation; and Jeannie has always had their sick women and children to care for. But a more thankless race, always allowing room for some exceptions, of course, I think I have never seen in my life." "I would oust them at once!" said the captain. "They have very little chance to meddle with our people," replied Andy. "In the first place, Donald and James are always on the qui vive, and we have Basil and Paul, Tom, and a half-dozen others of controlling influence, who are all bosses in their way. And, besides, the negroes despise these 'pore white folk,' as they call them, and laugh in their .faces when they talk about their liberty. They feel safe at White Oak; and, I am proud to say it, I doubt whether there is a man or WHTE OAK FAROM. 193 woman, who calls Colonel Lawrence master, that wouldi accept ' free papers' if they were- offered." "Suppose you try them," said. Jeannie, with a merry smile. "Wouldn't Massa Andy, fume:if they were to go; off in a stampede?"' "Jeannie," said her, father, "ye're a mischievous, lassie, and I fear Arthy 'll have trouble wi' ye, though I was at pains, as Dr. Haddon knows, to press particu., larly on him, before the marriage-service, the importance; of making ye promise obedience to your husband." "Well, sir, he left my conscience free, did he not?-"' said Jeannie. "Yes, you're right there," replied the doctor, laughing.. "No doubt I should fume, if the case you suggeEst; were a reality, Jeannie," replied Andy; "but I think- it is hardly within the range of probability. Many of them, I am sure, would regard the offer as an affront,. which would" grieve them to the heart." "My own. experience proves the truth of that remark, Andy," observed Dr. Haddon. "I am the owner in law of five slaves, who became, my property, as, we say, through my wife. Knowing that slave-holding is deemed: an offence and a sin by many of my Northern brethren, I sought to set them at liberty. They were all in the& prime of life. I made it the subject of - earnest prayer, and I called them together one morning, and, in the pre- sence of my wife, told them that it was our wish that they should be- free. They burst into tears. They clung around my knees and implored me not to send them, ,! away. What could I do? Five times, on as many dis- tinct occasions, I repeated the overture, and every: time it was refused with all the earnestness, of impassioned sincerity. They would not go. So, if slave-holding is, per se a sin,'I must remain a sinner." "In all candor, doctor," said; Judge Woodhull, who had been quietly looking on and listening, "I do: not N . 17 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, know a greater instance of uncharitable and presump- tuous interference than this wholesale indiscriminate denunciation of slave-holding. I have a friend living at present in one of the Northern States, a Christian man, a physician, and an ornament to his profession and to the society in which he lives, who would, with his lovely wife, on the terms of some Christian households, have been debarred from all the privileges of Christian fellow- ship and communion. I have his letter, in which he in- cidentally speaks of the affair, in my hand. I will read the passage in his own language:- "' With respect to old blind Lucy, she died some three years since, nearly one hundred years old, having been blind about thirty years. rs. W.'s father, who died some twenty-five years ago, inherited a few slaves, among whom were Lucy and her husband, who died some years before her. They were both incapable of supporting themselves, and were maintained by the estate from the time of Mr. D.'s death, until about a year previous to Lucy's death, when, upon the division of the estate, there being five superannuated slaves left, each of the five heirs took one. Lucy fell to me, and was maintained during the last years of her life, and when she died was buried at my expense.' "That gentleman was a slave-holder: and yet is there a man with a spark of humanity in his soul, that could charge his relation to that poor blind woman as a crime?" "I should hardly suppose he could make out his case, if he undertook it," replied Andy. "Then," replied Judge Woodhull, "the premises will require some modification, and it must be admitted that slave-holding is not in all cases a crime. The next point, I suppose, will be to define under what circum- stances it becomes one." "Definitions are proverbially dangerous," continued Andy. WHTE OAK FARM. 195 "I know it, and so do some of the wise men of the East unto this day," replied the judge. "Just so soon as they admit that slave-holding can be allowed under any cir- cumstances, they are driven to the acknowledgment that the evils which are connected with it are the proper subject of complaint, and that their terse magisterial dictum, Slavery is itself a sin and an abuse, is done for!" '; That argument meets the case on rational grounds, no doubt," observed Dr. Haddon; "but the matter is settled satisfactorily to my mind on the ground of reve- lation. If there is a plain doctrine of the Bible, I think it is that cruelty, inhumanity, and injustice are offences against the divine law, and therefore are not, under any plea of differences of social relation or position, to be tolerated by Christian men. But, then, it is equall y plain. that these relations are fully recognised both in the Old and New Testament. The Hebrews, by divine direction, reduced into bondage the heathen whom they subdued and who were their captives. The Canaanites were bondsmen and bondswomen to the Hebrews, and their children after them were slaves,-this, too, by God's command. A Hebrew might sell himself for a term of years. The year of jubilee released him; but if the ser- vant refused to be released, the master bored his ear and he became his slave for. life. Now, if slavery be itself a sin, it follows that God ordained a system and decreed statutes which compelled a man to be a sinner all the days of his life. A Christian, I should think, would therefore shrink from taking such a position." "That is a strong point, doctor," observed Judge Woodhull. a Gi'e us the words of the guid book itself, doctor," said the colonel. "Here they are," replied Dr. Haddon, turning the leaves of the Bible which lay beside him on a table. " 'If thy brother, a Hebrew man, or a Hebrew woman, be sold page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, unto thee and serve thee six years; then in the seventh year thou shalt let him go free from thee. And when thou sendest him out free from thee, thou shalt not let him go away empty,' &c.: Deut. xv. 12-13. 'And it shall be, if he say unto thee, I will not go away from thee; because he loveth thee and thine house, because he is well with thee; then thou shalt take an awl, and thrust it through his ear unto the door, and he shall be thy servant forever; and also unto thy maidservant thou shalt do likewise:' Deut. xv. 16-17. So much for perpetual servitude to the end of life in the case of a Hebrew. The statutes regulating the servitude of the heathen are as follows:- ' Both thy bondmen and thy bondmaids, which thou shalt have, shall be of the heathen that are round about you; of them shall ye buy bondmen and bondmaids. Moreover, of the children of the strangers that do sojourn among you, of them shall ye buy, and of their families that are with you, which they begat in your land: and they shall be your possession. And ye shall take them as an inheritance for your children after you, to inherit them for a possession; they shall be your bondmen for- ever: but over your brethren the children of Israel ye shall not rule one over another with rigor:' Lev. xxv. "1 16." At this point in the conversation, Arthur, who had returned after sending a message to Donald McAlvan through Basil, and giving a few hints to "Old Boss," sug- gested that these passages, though plainly settling the principle which lay at the foundation of the controversy, were nevertheless objected to by conscientious opponents of slavery, on the ground that they were special enact- ments, designed for a special and obsolete dispensation, and asked, "How do you meet this, doctor?" "The principle which is the root of the question is settled, as you say, Arthur," observed the doctor, "by * WHTE OAK FARM. 197 the Scripture already quoted. I deny, however, that the principle relates solely to the Jewish dispensation, because there is nothing ceremonial about that. The ceremo- nial law, with all the details of its cumbrous ritual, was utterly abolished when Christ inaugurated a better dis- pensation; but these statutes are moral, or politico-moral, and belong to that moral law of which Christ says, 'Think not that I am come to destroy the law and the prophets. I am come not to destroy, but to fulfil.' Not one jot 9r tittle of that moral law can fail, or pass away. That-law must therefore abide in every moral principle which it enforces or includes. But this is not all. The apostles of our Lord, as I believe, on this very ground, recognise the relation of master and slave, and without in a single instance stigmatizing it as an abuse; and, more than all "Hold, doctor, excuse my interruption," said Arthur, "but, you must know, some learned scribes, living in a more Northern latitude, undertake to prove philologi- cally that aouRo, does not mean a slave technically, but merely a servant." "I know it," said Dr. Haddon; "and a bealutiful spe- cimen of philological erudition it is: no man whose claim to scholarship is worthy of the least respect could assert any such thing, unless the whole question were with him a foregone conclusion. Let that pass, how- ever. We can convict them of gross absurdity without the aid of lexicons, classical references, or archaeology either. Suppose we say the word servant, as employed by the Apostle Paul, means nothing more than the term as it is used in non-slaveholding communities. What then does the apostle mean by his letter to Philemon in the affair of Onesimus, who, it seems, had run away from his master, and whom Paul sends back-after his conver- sion, mind you-to the master from whom he has ab- 17X page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 THE' OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, sconded? If Onesimus was merely a voluntary servant, like the 'helps' whom some Northern housekeepers de- scribe so pathetically as the plague of their economy, what in the name of sense, common or uncommon, did the good man mean? Why does he say, 'Art thou called, being a servant? Care not for it'? What need he care, sure enough? But he places that supposition in direct antagonism with freedom, and in the next breath he asks, 'Art thou called, being free? Choose it rather;' thus proving that in the one case the man is,a slave, and in the other, free. Now, I do not endorse the opinion, which is sustained by respectable names, from Chry- sostom down, that when the apostle says, 'Choose it rather' he advises any man to choose slavery in pre- ference to freedom. That is just as absurd as the learned exposition of the meaning of doulos, and is, moreover, in direct opposition not only to the spirit of the gospel, but to the actual scope of the passage. ZBesides, he says again, 'Let as many servants as are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed.' What yoke?" "The yoke of freedom, of course," exclaimed Helen, laughing. "Ye find that yoke galling, nae dootr" retorted the colonel: "but have patience and ye'll be put in silken bonds afore long. I ken a young callant that has a yoke for ye." "Good for you, Saundy!" said Captain Barber. "Of course," rejoined the colonel, "his neck is ready too.' "Well, you are bound to help the commentators among you," said Arthur. CBut I wish to hear Dr. Haddon further." "I fear I may be wearying our friends," said the doctor. ' No danger," replied Judge Woodhull. "I am greatly WHTE OAK FARM. 199 interested; and so, if you please, will regard this as a passing episode, and proceed." "I will adjourn the question very soon," replied the doctor, smiling pleasantly; "but there is -one passage which, to my mind, is the strongest of all, and which settles it, in my opinion, beyond the power of successful dispute. The first verse I have already quoted: it is 1 Tim. vi. 1-5. I will read the passage in full. "Ijet as many servants as are under the yoke count their own masters,worthy of all honor, that the name of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed. And they that have believing masters, let them not despise them, because they are brethren; but rather do them service, because they are faithful and beloved, partakers of the benefit. These things teach and exhort. If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, EVEN THE WORDS OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness, he is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions and strifes of WORDS, [0ovS;, and the like!] whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings, perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, sup- posing that gain is godliness. From such- turn away.' "Now, you will observe, the apostle makes direct allu- sion to the words of the Lord Jesus Christ; and yet'these words are not recorded by any of the evangelists. A parallel case may be cited, (Acts xx. 35:)-'Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive,'-a saying which is re- corded-first by the writer of the book of Acts. So that we have the direct authority of the Master cited, in this instance, in support of the principle which requires as many servants as are under the yoke to be obedient;: to their own masters. The apostle's comments upon:those who teach 'otherwise' we commend to the serious re- flection of all concerned. One thing is plain :--thegos- page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] '200 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, ,pel which they preach to us differs widely frpm the teachings of this book." "Many thanks to you for your sermon, doctor," said Jeannie; "but I fear, if you were to preach in that style in some sections north of a certain line, you might find an auditory not quite so appreciative as this." "Perhaps so," said the doctor, quietly putting up his spectacles; " and I have no doubt I might meet apostolic treatment too. Probably I should be branded as an advocate of oppression, of man-stealing, licentiousness, and every evil work: but what of that? They called the Master of the house Beelzebub: how much more, then, 'may they who are of the house be contentsto -share the Master's reproach?" " For my part," said Dr. Stanley, who had been an attentive listener throughout, "in my judgment, the :church of Christ has tolerated the rhapsodies of certain reformers long enough; and it is a question which I would like to submit to the advocates of universal ' freedom,' whether the church has not been in bondage in too many instances to men who would have us be wiser and more philanthropic and more merciful than Jehovah, and more temperate than the Lord Jesus him- self." "Just hear him, now!" exclaimed the colonel. "He's afraid some one of these reformers may break his cork- iscrew and keep him from his glass of ale, or turn the spigot of his cider-barrel, maybe, or break his pipe and throw his fine-cut into the gutter. O doctor! doctor! I'm afraid ye'll be qualified yet, as a gutter-man, to preach temperance to sober folk!" "Seriously," said Dr. Haddon, so soon as the laugh -which followed this sally of the colonel had sufficiently ibsided, "I can remember the time when these very gatter-men, as you call them, were ready with open auoths to bellow out their denunciations against the WHITE OA'K A M. '201 church and its ministers, and even had the impudence to claim my pulpit for that very purpose,-though they never got it. And what has been the'fruit of all these reforms, (save the mark!) attempted without regard to the principles of revealed religion?" A I'll answer," said Dr. :Stanley. ;The grand result has been the notorious increase of intemperance and the strengthening of the bonds of the -slave, until the very abuses of the system have become Stronger than ever, and the efforts of the only men in, all the world who can do aught to abate them have been paralyzed by the prejudices against abolitionists. And when is this to end?" "I'll answer," replied Dr. Haddon. :"When men learn to regard God's word :as LAW." "That's so!"' said the colonel. Yes, reader: that's so I page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CR:APTER XV11. AND where is Tip? Come with us, and we will take you to the very spot where the fugitive is concealed. In the deep recesses of a wood, cowering under a pile of brush, covered with leaves, two men are lying side by side, asleep. The moon is up,--full-orbed and bright. The forest glitters in the silvery light, and the silence which reigns supremely is broken only by the small, still voices of the night,-nature's lullaby to the weary. The sleepers are foot-sore and exhausted. They have tra- velled far; and they have a long, long journey before them. They have been obliged to avoid the open road and the bright daylight, and they ought now, in accord- ance with their plan, to be on the restless tramp again; but they are tired, and nature exacts repose, and in this case, it would seem, she will have it. They have tried to reverse her order and sleep by day; but, despite of them, she claims the night for rest. The world of life all around them is sleeping,-sleeping,-recruiting the tired energies of yesterday for the toil and burden of to-morrow. That katydid, rubbing his rough limb against the shield of his inner wings, and the restless cricket, with his everlasting chirp, are the only watchers hovering around the lowly pillow upon which the wanderers are reposing. Afar off is the faint "too-too- too-hoot" of a solitary owl,-the cry lengthening into a prolonged wail and sounding sadly in the distance. Nearer and nearer it comes, and the notes are growing shrill and shriller, as the restless prowler approaches the couch of the slumberers. Over their heads is a WHT3E OAK FARM. 203 broad canopy formed by the spreading boughs of a gigantic beech. On a dry twig in the heart of this forest-king the night-bird has chosen its perch, and, all unconscious of their presence, it repeats its quaint anthem, trilling out the mournful notes, and then sinking decrescendo into a plaintive cadence. There is a rustle in 'the leaves, and Tip rushes with a wild scream from under the brushwood, his frightened comrade starting up and following, both running they know not whither. "Golly! but I was skeered!" exclaimed Tip, rubbing his eyes and shaking his burly frame. "Who was dat, anyhow?" inquired his companion. "I t'ought it was a painter, sure, come to cotch Tip!" replied the terrified negro. "Guess 'twarnt nuffin but one of dem are owls: but dey's mighty skeery crit:; turs." * - - "Ha! ha! and I was a-t'inkin' it was de next t'in'ri :'. to a painter!" rejoined the other, whom we' beg to in' *r troduce by the name of Abraham, though, we grieve to say, despite the sober influence of better counsel and example, a wicked world persisted in calling him simply Abe. "'Next t'ing? wha-what's dat?" inquired Tip. "Squire Scrub's bloodhounds, sa!" responded Abe. "'Oh, de'm critturs! Massa Clarence finished dem," said Tip, "and dar's none o' dat sort o' varmint in dis part ob Ole Virginny since dey's had dar ole backs broke." On they went, striking a footpath which wound through the intricacies of the swamp, and conversing in a low, subdued voice, though there was scarcely any, danger that an unwelcome auditor could overhear them at the dead hour of night. Tip was not disposed to talk much. He seemed to be communing with his -own thoughts; and gradually his companion became weary page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, of prompting the conversation, and they strode onward in silence. At length Tip began:- - "I say, Abe, does you know what I's runnin' off for?" Abe, who knew that Colonel Lawrence always .treated his servants with a liberal kindness that was the envy of their less favored brethren in bondage, was at first somewhat at a loss for an answer. He adopted the Yankee practice. "Don' you know you'self, sa?" was his interrogatory reply. '"No, I don't," responded Tip, with a candid, matter- of-fact air. "Well, does you know whar I's gwine?" continued Tip. "You's gwine to Ohio," said Abe. i "No, I isn't," responded Tip. "Whar den, sa?" exclaimed Abe, in astonishment, as Tip stood stock-still in the road. "I's gwine hum!" said Tip, emphatically. "If I don' know what I'm runnin' away for, and if you don' know eider, den Tip's a big fool for leavin' his kind master and Miss Jeannie: dat's all I has to say 'bout dat. But what do you run away for? Maybe you don' know eider, Abe?" "Yes, I does! My massa guv me a switchin' de oder day," said Abe. "What for?" inquired Tip. "Jes' for nuffin. I jes' went to see what old Ike was a-doin' in de cornfiel'," said Abe. "Well, what was he doin'?" said his companion. "Nuffin!" was the laconic reply. "And what was you doin'?" persisted Tip. "I was watchin' Ike!" replied Abe. "Yah! yah! Sure enough, you got dat switchin' for nnffin," shouted Tip, forgetting all his previous caution. "But no hand, eider black or white, ever totcht my WHTE OAK FARM. 205 back, 'ceptin' my mammy when I was. a little feller. Dey neber strikes anybody at White Oak,-nebber And so I believe I'l jes' bid you good-by, Abe, and go hum!" "Now, you git out, Tip! 1 t'ought you was more of a man dan all dat," said Abe. "I 'garded you- as a can- derate for de sweets of liberty! I s'posed you was above' bein' a slave, sa I I s'posed you had pluck enough to be yer own mast'r, sa! But I's bin deceived in you. You go back! What 'II all de folks say?, Dey'll jes' laugh at you. Den, besides, dey won't trus' you no Mo'." The "sweets of liberty" 'Tip could not appreciate. To all practical purposes he had been his own master quite as much as his circumstances would permit. There might be something in the inducement held out by those vague "sweets of liberty." As yet, though, he had not tasted them. Camping out at night in the woodsy eating a dry cruat, drinking muddy water,--rendered no clearer by the twinges of a conscience not altogether satisfied,-were all the sweets he had proved, as yet, since he set out to run for "liberty." In truth, he was not yet sufficiently enlightened to relish them. There was an uncomfortable text, too, which he remembered,--one of many that Jeannie and her father had taught him in the Sunday afternoons, at the school-house in that grove near the graveyard; and it was continually coming up again:- "Let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was called!" Tip had had no provocation. But had he not an inalienable right to be a free man? Did not God design that hie should be free when he made poor Tip a man, with all the thews and sinews and the mind and faculties of A MAN? These are questions, kind reader, which may gravel you somewhat. Our answer may not be satisfactory; but we will say, at a venture, that, in our opinion and belief, the design of Providence 18 page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, is to be reached generally by due attention to the actual facts, condition, or results, as the case may be. What Providence designs it usually accomplishes. A man does not cease to be a man because he is a servant or a slave, as some would have us believe; but there may be a difference of opinion respecting these inalienable rights. Those rights are conferred by God, where they exist; and the same power that confers may, for wise purposes, alienate them, as was done in the experience of the Canaanites, and subsequently in the still sadder experience of their Hebrew masters; and thus there may be a change of relations. But we are digressing. Two ideas in Abe's remonstrance Tip appreciated thoroughly. They decided him for liberty. "Dey'll jes' laugh at me, will dey?"Tip muttered, sullenly; "and dey won't trus' me no mo', won' dey? Den I's gwine to run for it. Go on, Abe!"And Tip flourished his cudgel with an air of independence that would have edified any advocate of liberty in the land. "Dar! dat's you, Tip! I allers thought you was de right sort. Dis pantin' for freedom's not gwine to be put down, wedder de white folks treats us kind, as your ole mast'r treats his people, or wedder dey hammers us, as my mast'r did sometimes. Dat's nuffin to do wid de bisness. iNo, sa! My 'pinion is jes' dat eber-y man in de worl' has jes' de same rights as any odder man! Dat's de doctrine of de folks what lives whar dere a'n't no slaves. Dar all people's on de same footin' of 'quality! Dat's de land I's a-steerin' for; and I's proud to have de company of a pusson dat can 'preciate de glorious sen- timums of de everlastin' fourth of July!" "Is you sure, Abe," inquired Tip, "dat dey treats de called folks in de free States same as ef dey was white?" W'Zactly de same! To-be-sure dey do," responded Abe, with oracular authority. "How can dey do any t'ing else?" WHTE OAK FARM. 207 "Well, I don' know," replied Tip, doubtingly; "I allers feel as if de Great Maker above meant dat black. and white should be sep'rate. It seems a kind o' nat'- ral to me dat, dey should. Does de white folks jes' marry de black gals and de yellow gals, same as de white ladies?" inquired Tip. "I don' know 'bout dat," said Abe; " maybe dey does, and maybe dey don't; or p'rhaps some does and some doesn't." "Dat's a kind o' queer,'" said Tip. "Does de black and white folks go to see one anodder 'at dare houses, same as de quality dat calls on Colonel Lawrence at White Oak?" "'Zactly: dey's jes' on de same footin' ob 'quality, don' I keep a-tellin' you?" replied Abe. i'Does dey nebber call de culled members ob 'ciety niggas in dem parts?" persisted the incredulous querist. "Of coas not: dere is no niggas dar; dey's all gemmen and ladies,-some culled, de rest not culled," was Abe's reply. "When was you dar?" inquired Tip. "Now, you go 'way, Tip: what's dat got to do wid it? I's gwine dar, jes' as fast as I can peg it. Whar's de use of all dese queshions?" said Abe, somewhat wore ried byr the pertinacity of his catechist. "Kase I wants to know," responded Tip. "Den de best way to find out is jes' to go and see," said Abe. "'Zactly: dat's what I's about," was Tip's reply; but in the same breath he continued his queries by another: -"Does de culled folks Fwote at all de 'lections? and does dey get 'lected demselves?" "Wote? Of coas dey does,-jes' de same as de white folks," replied Abe. "Golly! Yah.! I means to run for de Legislatuir;, and if you'll wote for me, I'll wote for you for Congress!" page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, and Tip laughed somewhat at the conceit, but more at Abe's credulity in supposing that he was his dupe. "Dar's somefin' else, too, I could tell you, Tip, if I'd a mind to," said Abe, with a knowing wink and an air of mystery. "Tell a feller, Abe, won't you?" replied Tip. "Don' know 'bout dat. I doesn't tell it to everybody," responded his companion. "Well, I isn't everybody," said Tip. "But I don' know wedder you's good at keepin' a secret," said Abe, with a hesitating look. "Den de best way fur to find out is to try," replied Tip. "Well, if I t'ought you wouldn't tell, I'd hab no ob- jection," said Abe, assuming a confidential air. "Of coas I won't, if I ortn't to," replied Tip. "De fac' is jes' dis yer. De culled folks," continuedc Abe, "is jes' about wore out, and dey isn't gwine to submit to be slaves to de white folks much longer. Afore long dey'll rise agin de masters, and dey'll kill 'em; and ef dey spare any of de fair sec, it'll be de best- lookin', fur " A tremendous blow upon the mouth of the speaker cut short the sentence, which Tip could not allow him to finish; and his assailant stood quivering with wrath before the astonished Abe, whose face was instantly covered with blood, which flowed from an ugly gash in his severed lip. "You brack villain!" roared Tip; "I's a good mine to make ye go straight hum and jes' tell yer mast'r what you's tole me! You varmint! you talk to me about killin' my ole mast'r, and de boys, and Miss Jeannie, too!"And here his fury overcame the negro again, and, with a shout of execration, he fell upon his companion, and dealt a shower of two-fisted blows right and left WHTE OAK FARM. 209' upon Abe, which laid him prostrate and helplesg9 on the road. "Murder! murder! bloody murder!" screamed Abe. "Oh! oh! Tip, you'll kill me!". "No, I won't do. dat," replied Tip; "but I'll teach you somefin' you ort to know. You's down now; but ef you wants any mo', jes' get up." And, spurning Abe with his foot, he repeated,-- Get up.! I doesn't strike a- feller when he's down! But you's not got half enough yit!--I isn't half done wid you." "Oh, Tip, I's got enough!--I has indeed! I can't stan' no mo'," groaned Abe. "Besides, it was all talk, Tip! Nobody intended fur to do any t'ing ob de sort." "If dey does, let 'em come on," said Tip; dar's over two hundred fellers jes' about as stout aa me, dat dey'll hab to walk over, to. say nuffin' of de women-folks, afore dey can totch one o'- my ole massa's white hars, you bloody brack villain! I jes' feels like pullin' you back by de heels and lickin' ye ebery five minutes on de road!" "Oh, Tip) I tell you, de trufe, now. It was all talk," reiterated Abe. "Well, you go your way," said Tip, calmly, "and I'll go mine, and. take what you's got fur de lies you's! told me." And, picking up the cudgel which he had thrown away when he fell upon Abe, Tip turned on; his heel and; left him still sitting by the wayside. i "Oh, Tip, what shall I do?" groaned Abe. "You's bruised me so, I's all like a jelly; and I's gotfonly about two dollars to take me to 'Hio. And now youls gwine hum to. tell on me." Tip paused for a moment, and then, retracing his steps he drew from his wallet four quarter-eagles, and aid , - -- R Hole out yer dirty han', sa!" O O 18s' page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Abe held out the hand which Tip had evoked with this complimentary invitation, and clutched the pieces as they dropped into it. "Dat'll see you ober de line," said Tip; " sich fellers as you is no loss to anybody that gets shet ob'em. You go 'long! I isn't gwine wid you no mo'; but I's not gwine to tell any t'ing 'bout you until I finds out wedder you's told me de trufe. And if you's got any t'ing to do wid a 'surrection, I'll have you brought back, ef I has to fetch you all de way from 'Hio by de heels or wid a wheelbarrow. I guess de trafe is, it's all talk. You's too big a coward to dar' any sich t'ing. Dar's jes' one t'ing I's sorry fur, and yet maybe it's all right. Ef you hadn't met me on de road de oder day, I should jes' have bin at White Oak yet, widout any of de trouble you's guv me to git back. I was about as stupid as a mule to let you pussuade me to run away from hum. But, as Ole Boss says 'bout de doctrine ob election, 'It is as it is, and it can't be no tisser.' I's guv you a lickin', and ten dollars for de priv'lege: and now you go 'bout your bisness, or I'll give you anoder, and no pay but dese ten fingers." In a few moments Tip was out of sight. Dismissing Abe, who, after a brief respite, resumed his march, and succeeded in reaching the place of his destination after numerous hairbreadth escapes, we shall follow Tip in his lonely walk. The light of the moon faded away gradually, and there was an interval of darkness between its extinction and the gloaming of the early morning. Tip formed a little couch of dry leaves, and, covering himself up, lays down at the foot of a tree and slept. He dreamed of home. He is in the quarter again. Again, he is out with Jim, in the woods, having obtained a permit for a- holiday, to shoot wild pigeons. He has his game-bag full, and is on his way home. Suddenly he meets a party of negroes, armed with guns and pikes, running In WHTE OAK, FARM. 2" a confused crowd, yelling and, screaming through the forest. They are dragging a heavy weight, like a log, with the rope which is fastened to it. They come nearer. He recognises among them some of the negroes of a plantation eight or nine miles from White Oak. They hail him. In the distance is a lurid light. The'old homestead is on fire. White Oak is in a blaze. He looks at the object which the negroes are trailing over the road. It is! Can it be?"It is, oh God!" he groans; that white head,-that upturned face, bloody and pale in death, but wearing still, even in its ghastli- ness and pallor, the smile of parental affection! He moans, with a loud wail of anguish, "My dear, dear ole mast'r!" "Halloo, Tip!" The sleeper awakes. The bright sunshine is bathing the forest in its golden light. The drops of early dew are sparkling on every leaf and spray, and the world is awake and up again for the struggles of another day. "Htalloo! - Tip, mon!" His eye follows the sound of a familiar voice, and at his side is Donald McAlvan, mounted on a powerful black horse. "Massa Donal'! Dat you?" shouted Tip; and, spring- ing to' his feet, the poor negro ran towards him, and grasped the hand which Donald held out. "Puir Tip! What on airth ails ye-?" said Donald. "Oh, Massa Donal', but I's glad to see you!" said Tip; and the tears gushed from his eyes. "Ho! Jack," he continued, stroking the neck of the noble animal which responded to his caresses by a low whinnyj "you's missed Tip from de stable, hasn't ye, poor fel- low? But I was on my way back, and I'll curry you agen, jes' as I used to." Donald shook his head, and looked sorrowfully at the poor negro. r V page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 THE OLIVF,-BRANCH; OR, ' I'm afeard, Tip, Jock will ha'e to find another/ groom," said Donald. "What fur, Massa Donal'?" inquired Tip. "I reckon I knows how to 'tend him, as well as de nex' man!" "Yes, puir fallow! I dinna doot that at all," replied Donald, in a tone of pity. "But I'm thinkin' auld Saundy Larrence willna ha'e ye at White Oak!" "Oh, Massa Donal', he wouldn't sell Tip kase he runn'd away? I was on my way hum agen!" exclaimed the negro. "Puir cratur!" said Donald. "What iver possessed ye to do it? Na, Tip, Saundy Larrence isna that soort! He'll no sell ye, Tip; but he'll give ye yer papers; and he's sent me after ye, to hand 'em ower to ye." And Donald took out of his pocket the certificate of Tip's freedom. Snatching the paper from the hand which extended it, Tip tore it into fragments and flung the shreds to the winds. "I's gwine hum!" shouted the negro. Donald's rough features twitched with agitation. "Aweel," said he, " ye maun try it. But I doot ye'll no succeed. I'll do what I can for ye, mon; but auld Saundy is set in his ways, and I niver kenned the day when he turned frae them." "EMy ole mast'r may kill me, but I's gwine hum," re- peated Tip. "Ye're tired, and I'm fresh as a cricket mysel'," said Donald, dismounting. "Git on Jock's back, for it's a long way to White Oak. But stay: ye're hungry, Tip, and I've brought ye a bit meat and bread, and some odd notions to comfort ye, that Jeannie-bless her blue eyes and her sweet heart!--sent till ye. Ye left yer Bible, Tip, that she gav' ye. Ye'll find the bit strips o' paper, marking places she wants ye to remember when she's no wi' ye at yer Sunday-schuil." WHTE OAK FARM. 213 Tip threw himself on the ground, and- groaned aloud, in the anguish of a broken heart. Covering his face with his hands, the strong man wept and sobbed in an agony. "Dinna greet, mon!" said Donald: but his own ex. ample contradicted the precept. "IDinna greet, mon! If ye're minded to go back, back ye shall ,go. But first ye'll need a bit something." And Donald spread a nap- kin on the leaves, and, drawing a hunting-knife from his pocket, he cut some slices from a boiled tongue and a wheaten loaf, and, taking a flask of light wine and a leathern drinking-cup, he poured out " a drap" and held it towards Tip. "Arter you, Massa Donal'," said Tip. "Na, tak' it, Tip: I dinna want it, mon. My drink is water. Wine is for them that is heavy of heart, and strong drink for the faint, that's ready to perish. Tak' it, Tip, and God's blessing gang wi' it." No further persuasion was necessary. Rising to his feet, the negro bowed his thanks to Donald, and, taking the cup in his hand, he said,-- "I My respec's, sa!" and the cup was empty. The refreshment proffered by Donald, was most grate- ful to Tip. He entered upon the process of refection with a zest which amazed the Scotchman, who was him- self no mean trencherman. .The bread and meat dis- appeared with a marvellous rapidity, and Tip ate on as though he had been on short commons for a week and did not know when he might find himself in clover again. "Dar!" said Tip; " dat 'll do now; and I's 'bliged to you, Massa Donal', for takin' de trouble to bring dis yer f to me; and to Miss Jeannie, for sendin' it; and to de good Lord, above all, for, spreadin' dis table in de wilderness." "Weel, Tip," replied Donald, shaking the crumbs from page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, the napkin and replacing it in his saddle-bag, " ye'll be better prepared for yer journey, now that ye're vic- tualled, nor ye were afore; and ye can tak' Jock and ride him to White Oak, and I'll jist walk over to the railroad, and the cars 'll be at the station in half an hoor. It's but a short half-mile. And the pike-ye canna miss it, for it's close by, and the wood-path leads straight till it. So, I'll tak' the cars, and ye can bring Jock hame by noon." "Oh! Mdassa Donal', isn't you 'feard to trus' me?" said Tip. "Na, I'm no 'feard at any risk from ye," replied Donald. "There mony a man that I wadna trust Jock vi', but ye ken how to handle him. He's fresh and blithe as a lark, and ye can let him tak' his ain gait: it willna hurt him. Noo, tak' heed to yersel', Tip, and I'll meet you at the quarter, in White Oak, at twalve o'clock this day." So saying, Donald strode off through the forest, and left Tip standing by the side of Jack. "Massa Donal'!" said Tip. "Aweel?" replied the Scotchman, turning towards the negro. "Massa Donal', I's thinkin' maybe de gate-keeper won't let me pass frough." "Ye're right, mon," exclaimed Donald. "I had for- gotten ye'll be needin' a pass." Drawing from his pocket a slip of paper, he wrote upon it, in a large, plain hand, "Let Tip pass to White Oak," and, after append- ing tis signature, handed it to the negro, who touched his cap politely, and, putting his hand on the horse's neck, vaulted into the saddle, and Jack bore the poor wanderer home. Massa Donal' didn't understan' me," said Tip, musing as he rode leisurely along. "I axed if he warn't 'feard to trus' me. And he t'ought I meant he wouldn't like me to ride Jack. He's not afeard dat I'll run off * WHTE OAK FARM. 215 agen, anyhow. Dat Abe said de folks wouldn't trus' me no mo', and I kind o' feels as if dey ortn't to. But Massa Donal' jes' de same. Wonder what ole massa'll say? Oh, I's so 'shamed o' myself! What will I do? De folks'll laugh at me! Abe said dey would. But Abe tole me a fib befo', and maybe dey won't. And, if dey should, Tip desarves it. So I'll go straight hum, widout turnin' eider to de right hand or to de left." Tip was mistaken; Donald understood him well enough. Reader, a word with you. Was Tip right in this re- solve or not? Some religious papers, in their zeal against slavery, -have suggested that, the slave might take a horse, or any thing else that was a needful auxi- liary to his escape. But fort this, we would scarcely have ventured to offend an honorable mind by such a question. We think you will say, with us,- "Go home, Tip!" ' . . page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CHAPTER XV111. HALF an hour before noon, Tip rode into the quarter. To his amazement, not a soul said a word to him about his absence. The servants all treated him as though he had just returned from some errand, and seemed disposed to make him feel as comfortable as if nothing had hap- pened. The poor fugitive, however, wore a downcast look. He felt uneasy. Watching his opportunity, he whispered to Jim, with whom he had long been on terms of closest intimacy, and inquired if he knew what "Massa Lawrence was gwine to do?" Jim shook his head sorrowfully, and beckoned to Tip to follow him into his room. "Tip," said his friend, "what made you run away?" "Don' know, indeed, Jim, unless it was de debbil!" replied his chum. "But what is Massa Lawrence gwine to do? Oh, Jim, he sent Donal' wid my free -papers, and I tore 'em up!" "Well, I don' know what de ole mast'r means to do," replied Jim. "I seed him talkin' wid Jeannie arter Massa Donal' cum back and said you was gwine to cum wid Jack, and I heard her beg him to let you stay but de ole man said, ' No!' wid dat kind of 'termined way he has: he said you had cheated him by axin' for a pass and takin' 'vantage ob his kindness to ye, and he didn't want anybody to be his servant dat would do dat." "Oh, deary me!" sighed Tip. "It's so! He won't trus' me no mo': but I desarves it all. Only, Jim, I didn't mean to run away when I axed Massa Lawrence for a pass to go to W . But I dar'n't say no mo'." * WHTE OAK FARM. 217 Why not, Tip?" inquired Jim. 'Kase I's not gwine/" replied Tip, calmly. "But dar's Massa Donal'," he continued; "and I reckon he'll want me to go wid him to see mast'r. So I'll go, Jim." And, opening the cabin-door, he called to the Scotchman. "I's here, Massa Donal', and Jack is all right." "So I obsairve," replied Donald. "Does Mast'r Lawrence want to see me?"'inquired Tip. "Na, Tip, he hasna said so. Ye're tired noo, and he'd rayther let ye tak' a bit restin'-spell. Maybe aboot sundoon he'll'send for ye," said Donald. "Oh, Massa Donal', he isn't gwine to send me off? I'd rather be at hum, yer, dan anywhar else in de whole worl'. You'll ax him, w(on't yer, not to send me 'way? Indeed, I's 'shamed of meself. I is so, Massa Donal'." "I canna speak for auld Saundy LIarence," replied the Scotchman. "Ony man that wad ondertak' that' same might find himsel' grievously mista'en, Tip.' But I can only say, what ye ken yersel', that there's a big heart and a kind ane in his boosom, and that I've tould him what passed this iaornin', and how ye trated y er free papers." "And what did he say, Massa Donal'?" inquired Tip. ",He didna say muckle, Tip. His lip quivered, and he said he was sorry you had deceived him. That's. what cuts him, Tip. Jeannie's been pleadin' for ye like a law- yer, mon, and he'll hear her ef he'll hear onybody, but a' the answer she gat frae him was just nae more than that same quiet shak' o' the heed." Tip sat down on the sill of the doorway, and looked the picture of disconsolate perplexity. "Auld Saundy 'll do what he thinks is right, Tip, and the worst he'll :do will be what mony o' yer kin and bluid wad esteem the biggest favor i' the warld," con- tinued Donald, 'nt, as I s id, I dinma ken what he'll 19 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 THE OLIVE-BR4NCH; OR, do." And, with these words, Donald proceeded to attend to such arrangements as were necessary for the expedi- tious harvesting of the corn-crop, and for this purpose he repaired to Basil's cabin and gave him, as the super- intendent of the field-hands, such directions as the case required. Basil's resentment had been completely disarmed by the voluntary return of Tip and by the recital of Do- nald's discovery and interview with the fugitive, and a feeling of pity had displaced the sterner emotion which the defection had aroused. He sent his little girl, Nellie, with a bountiful supply from his own table, and directed her to give his "kind regards" to Tip. "Dat's a good gal," said Tip, patting the little girl's curly head, after uncovering the dish, which was filled with a savory mess of mutton-chop and omelet. "Dat's a nice gal, Nellie," he repeated: "and jes' tell yer fader and Aunt Tamar dat I's grateful for dis yer dinner!" The power of kindness! What in all the world of moral dynamics can so win the heart and bind the af- fections? This is mightier far than all the implements and engines of oppression. The lash and the chain pro- voke resistance and hatred. The harsh invectives of abuse, the menaces of a wrathful spirit, may inspire terror, but they have no attractive power. But kind- ness knits a band of adamant around the grateful heart and keeps it ever in the strong embrace of love. The question which Tip was agitating in his own mind had been pretty thoroughly discussed at White Oak. The subject had been weighed, if not dispassionately, at least without resentment. Colonel Lawrence was touched by the story which Donald had told him, but he had seen nothing to induce him to change the deter- mination already formed. His resentment at the appa- rent deception which had been practised upon him was disarmed. He was willing to believe that it had not WHTE OAK FARM. 219 been premeditated. Still, deceit had been practised, and he feared that Tip was impulsive enough to repeat it under similar circumstances; and the idea of any man's absconding from him was repulsive. He could -not tole- rate it. Colonel Lawrence felt that he had given no provocation which could annul the duty of his servants to his family. He had prided himself upon their loyalty. Their devotion to Jeannie was more grateful to his feel- ings than any exhibition of personal attachment to him- self. For the first time in an experience of forty years, he had been made to understand that a servant in his employ felt the yoke galling by its weight. He was an- noyed by this discovery, though he was neither vexed nor iaritated; but one thing was certain:-he would not retain Tip under the circumstances. Jeannie exhausted her eloquence, but she failed. "Na, na, Jeannie," said the colonel; "it willna do ava'. Tip wad be putting on airs that I canna endure in white or black. I canna let him think we canna do withoot him. He maun gae, Jeannie. He'll find his mistak'e when he's had a trial of fending for himsel'. It's a'e thing to have his auld maister at his hand when he wants aught to wear or to eat, or money to spend; and it's anither to aim every mouthfu' that he eats, and every stitch o' clothing that he pits on his back. He's a runaway, Jeannie; but he's goin' from a hame he'll be glad to find his- way back to, or I'm mista'en in the mon." "Well, father dear," said Jeannie, 'if he comes back you wont send him off again, as you did Tom? Tip is not a discontented boy. He has always seemed happy and cheerful, and I have been used to see him here ever since I can remember any thing. I am sorry to see him go. I am sure he loves us all and would do any thing in the world for any of us." "What did he run away for, then?" retorted the coloe page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; ORE nel, laughing. "I am attached to the lad mysel'P but I canna keep him noo. If he comes back after a fair trial, and would rayther live at White Oak than anywhere else, I'll let him tak' his auld place; but I canna ower- look his attempt to sneak awa' from us." a The more I think of it," said Arthur, appealing to Jeannie, "the more persuaded do I become that this is the right course. An old rhyme which I remember, though I do not know the author's name, is full of truth; and the lines display so much knowledge of human nature in its less exalted developments, that I cannot help repeating them:--- "' Tender-handed touch the nettle, And it stings you for your pains r Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains. So it is with common natures: Treat them kindly, they rebel; But be rough as nutmeg-graters, And the rogues obey you well!"' ' It's true, Arthur,-true every letter of it," exclaimed the colonel. "And ye may tak' an auld man's advice, Arthy, and remember what the Wise Man says about the treatment of servants. There's such a thing as being ower gracious. I dinna advocate tyranny, or roughness, or any thing of that sort, and that ye ken without much palaver from me on that head; but, ye mind, Solomon says, 'He that delicately bringeth up his servant from a child shall have him become his son at the length.' Ye'll be imposed on, mon, if ye dinna think at times of the Wise Man's proverb. There's a medium, Arthy; and the same authority that says to the master, 'Thou shalt not rule over him with rigor, but shalt fear thy God,' has gi'en the other hint to put into the oppo- site scale of the balance." "I believe you, colonel," replied Arthur, " and I thank yolU for the counsel; but I have already learned that WHTE OAK FARM. 221 my dignity is worth something to my servants as well as myself. I wish to be kind to them; but I am per- suaded that their own welfare requires that I should insist upon habits of truth and industry. They under- stand me, however, I believe." "If they dcon't," said Jeannie, laughing, "they will be slower of comprehension than ordinary. You should, only have seen Arthur give Josh, one of Sharp's ne- groes, the first lesson in speaking the truth, the other , morning." a What was that?" inquired her father. "Oh, sir," said Arthur, "Josh's infirmity is a common one: he is given most inordinately to lying, and I tried to teach him that 'honesty is the best policy.' " "And did you succeed?" said the colonel. "I think I did, sir," replied Arthur, smiling. "You, see, I had given all the hands a supply of seasonable clothing, for they were miserably clad; and what must my Joshua do but sell his coat to some fellow on another plan- tation! Then he comes to me with a doleful tale, that our trusty James McAlvan had forgotten him in the distri- bution of the coats. Now, I happened to know all about it; for one of our old servants, indignant at the trick whichl Josh was about to attempt, had informed me of it the very morning when the fellow came to be refitted." "The scoundrel!" exclaimed the colonel. '(I have never allowed a blow to be inflicted on any servant; but I think, if I had had a switch, I should have been tempted to have given the fellow a Scotch. tap. What did you do, Arthur?" "Oh, not much, sir," said Arthur. "I asked if James had neglected to give him a pair of pantaloons and a vest. He hesitated a moment, but I repeated the ques- tion somewhat sternly, and Josh responded that 'Massa James had guv him dem articles, he b'lieved.' {Well, then,' said I, ' fetch them here this instant.' Presently 19* page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, he came with the clothes under his arm. 'Now,' said I, 'Josh, you have tried to cheat me: I know all about it; so you may save yourself the expense of any further stories about the matter. You will wear your old clothes, sirrah; and you get nothing new this winter; and now begone, and take care how you try that game again.' Josh looks like a speckled bird in a flock of crows; but there is no help for him. He will have to F wear old things, patched and mended to keep out the cold, but he will not be allowed to put on any state for the present." "Ye did right, ArthyI ye did right!" said the colonel; "and I see ye're on the straight track, mon." "Josh feels the disgrace terribly, for he is as fond of dress as any dandy I ever saw in Broadway or Chestnut Street; and the servants either laugh at him, or despise his meanness," said Arthur. "It was weel done, Arthy. It'll be a lesson to him- sel' and to the whole crowd that ye've got thegither at Rescue Glade. They'll need a deal of training before they can be trusted like our boys," observed the colonel. "I know it, sir, and, if I dared, I would forgive the rascal for the sake of the opportunity I have had of ad- ministering a practical lesson," said Arthur. "Nla, na; that wad spoil the whole kettle of fish!" observed the colonel.. At this juncture, a gentle rap at the door of the li- brary was answered by the colonel, who called, "Come in ;" and Tip stood before his master, with a downcast air. "Aweel," said the colonel, kindly, "sit doon, Tip!" "Mast'r Lawrence," said the negro, "you isn't gwine to send me off? Indeed, sir, I'll nebber do sich a thing agen, de longest day I lives." "Ye're a free man, Tip," replied the colonel, "and, by the laws of the State, ye'll be required to leave Auld Vir- WHTE OAK FARM. 223 ginny. It's nae use talkin', Tip," continued his master, observing that Tip was about to put in another plea. "All ye can say, mon, canna hinder ye from being re- leased from every legal bond that fastens ye to White Oak." Tip hung his head and wept bitterly. "Ye can try how ye like yer liberty, Tip! Gi'e it a fair trial, mon,-a year, two years, or more, at your plea- sure; and, if ye find, after tasting the sweets of liberty, that ye'd as lief be back again at White Oak, ye can use yer awn free will aboot that. Why, mon, there are ten thousand of yer kindred that would leap' for joy at such an offer, if they hadn't a dollar to bless themselves wi' I and you've got money, I believe." Tip replied, in a voice scarcely audible,- "Yes, mast'r, Tip has money. -I has over two hun- dred dollars; but I'd give it all to get leave to stay at hum." "That canna be, at this present," replied the colonel. "Tak' wi' you, Tip, all that belongs to you, and Donald will see you safe on board the cars,' and go wi' ye as far as Baltimore to save ye trouble; and, after he's put you on the track to Philadelphia, wi' yer free papers in yer pocket, ye maun try to mak' yer awn way." Tip burst into tears, and Jeannie left the room. "I dinna wish to cast ye off, Tip," said Colonel Law- rence, with a quivering lip. "I want ye, Tip, to be carefu' about yer company and yer habits. Ye'll find, Tip, while yer money lasts, ye'll ha'e friends plenty; but, when that's lost or spent, they'll be scarcer, maybe. Work for yer living, mon! Be honest and true, and trust in God, and ye'll prosper." "Oh, my heart's 'most broke!" said Tip. "How will I do among strangers? Nobody dar knows Tip. No- body 'll keer for pore Tip, Sundays or weekdays. I's got no home!" . ' , I page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, .^ Arthur Clarence followed Jeannie, and the colonel was left alone. Approaching the poor negro, he knelt by his side, and, Tip falling upon his knees, the old man poured: out his heart to God in a fervent prayer in behalf of the poor negro, commending him to that protection which never fails. They rose from their knees, and master and servant stood together in the presence of Him who is the master of both. With a kind pressure of the hand, the colonel whispered, "God will take care of you, Tip. You can come to White Oak at the end of six months and see your old friends again, and, whether you come to stay or not, we'll be glad to see you. And now, good- by, and God bless you." Tip's heart was too full to give utterance to his fare- well. He wrung his master's hand and left the room. On the porch he met Arthur and Jeannie, and, taking the hand which they proffered him, he tried to speak; but the poor fellow's words were choked by his emotion, and Arthur, slipping a letter into his hand, said to him,- (There's a letter, Tip, to an intimate friend of mine who lives in Philadelphia, and who is a Christian. He is not above noticing a colored man, as some of the white people are in the free States; and, if you want advice or help, go to him. I dare say he will find you * employment. Remember the colonel's advice, Tip, and God bless you." 'Oh, Massa Clarence!" said the poor fellow, bursting into tears. And, unable to finish the sentence, Tip hurried away to the quarter. In two days' time the negro found himself in Phila- delphia. WHTE OAK FARM. X CHAPTER XTTX. THE sun shone forth upon a bright sky in October on the last Sabbath in the month. Al1 work is sus- pended at White Oak. The fire in the smithy has gone out. The Vulcan of the estate-a tall, brawny negro, who is known as Richard--has laid aside his toil-stained garments. Here again that custom which too often becomes law persists in perverting the dignity of no- menclature, and Richard is known and honored among his fellows as Big Dick. The hammer is reposing on the silent anvil, as though both are resting from the labors of the week. The bellows holds its breath, and the cinders smoulder and sleep, as though fire and air resolve to share in the quiet slumber of their great sister-element, earth. It is a quiet, lovely morning, fit opening of a day consecrated to rest, to peace, and to devotion. Before the doors of the comfortable tene- ments in the quarter men and women are seated, ar- rayed in neat apparel, their tidy clothing and carefully. washed persons inedicating the public estimation of that virtue which some place next to godliness. The little children are getting ready for Sunday-school. Here and there groups of them are conning over the hymns which they are to sing. in the infant-school, over which Sue presides. The men are reading their Bibles,--some, re. , ; citing the sacred words aloud for the benefit of tJ:i:- who cannot read with fiuency, but the greater pamit silently perusing the pages of their own books. Some will tell you that the slaves are by law pro- hibited from learning to read. In Virginia, however, page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 THE OLIVE-BRANOH; OR, the statute is interpreted and understood as forbidding the employment of professional schoolmasters for this purpose, and not, by any means, as interfering with the legal owners of servants in any educational efforts of the kind. The measure seems harsh; but, if slavery is to exist at all and for any length of time, it is not reason- able to demand that its most unscrupulous opponents should have, a carte blanche given them on which to write their seditious cruelties in the name of liberty and philanthropy. The religious instruction of the slaves has, of necessity, become principally oral; and let any unprejudiced mind look at the statistics of Christian denominations in the South, and there will be some cause for thankfulness in the reports. Many, many- thousands of the poor slaves are known and honored as communicants in various Christian churches, sharing in the sympathies and the courtesies of religious fellowship without regard to color or social relation. Many thou- sands more stand in no such happy connection; but surely that is no reason why the violence of philanthropy .- should rear additional barriers in the way of the exten- sion of such privileges. Christians in the South have embarrassments enough to contend with already: let not their brethren at the North increase them. Fierce invective, loveless denunciations, are as powerless for good as the noise of the sea. They will not convince the master; they can profit the slave nothing: they have done great evil. Surely those who regard their plantations as a missionary-field, and who use the posi- tion which their relation gives them to encourage their servants to seek the mighty and ennobling influences of the grace of God, deserve our sympathy and respect more than our censure. Is it not a remarkable fact, moreover, that nearly all that is done by the race of whites for the moral elevation of the negro is done, not North, not East, not West, but South? In other sec- WHTE OAK FARM. 227 tions the negro is left to care very much for himself; but in the South the relation of a slave rolls a weight of responsibility on the Christian master which compels him to labor for the religious instruction and education of his dependants. Hundreds and thousands of Chris- tian masters feel this obligation, and live and actunder its pressure. Hundreds and thousands of masters. are not Christians, says the objector. Admit it. The more is the pity: but are they likely to become such by preaching to them the gospel of a servile insurrection? Hundreds and thousands of families. in the free States of our great republic are living without God and with- out hope inthe world, and are as ignorant of the first truths of the gospel as any hewer of wood and drawer of water in the South. Why does not Christian benevo- lence pour forth its energies for the promotion of pure religion and undefiled among the thousands who are perishing under the eaves of its churches? Must it ac- complish its mission in a round of wretched negations, instead of fulfilling the positive duties of its profession? You tell us slavery in itself is an evil. Far be it from is to say it is in itself a blessing. You say, If it is an evil it ought to be abolished at once. We answer, No: many things are evil which cannot be done away with at once. They require time, patience, wisdom. Slavery is a great sore-a running sore-on the body politic. What appliances do you propose to cure it? Amputate the limb andbe done with it? -That would be heroic practice, certainly: but would it be the practice of a surgeon, or of a quack? Would it be the act of hu. manity, or the part of cruelty? Perhaps the limb can be saved. Who is the better practioner -the man who saves a limb, or the man who scientifically whips- it off with amputating-knife and saw? If you wish to heal that wound, it will hardly be prudent to rub it every few minutes with a villanous embrocation of acids and page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, salt. That will not soothe it much. Better far do nothing. The Sabbath in the country! Who that has felt its stillness in the quiet hours of the waking day can fail to understand that it was made for man? In the crowded city there is bustle through the thronged streets. There it is a day of relaxation; but in the country it is a day of rest. For many years it had been the custom at White Oak to maintain an evening assembly for divine worship in the chapel described in a former chapter, so that all might have an opportunity, at least once a day, to hear the gospel preached. Most of the adult servants on the plantation were members in full communion with the church in which Colonel Lawrence worshipped; but those who preferred some other communion to the Pres- byterian were at liberty to seek a home more conge- nial with their religious preferences in any evangelical church of their own choice. The church in which Dr. Haddon officiated was distant some two miles from White Oak. A large portion of the capacious edifice was devoted to the accommodation of the slave-worship- pers. This is a common arrangement. Master and servant worship together. They meet in the same house; they join in the same songs of praise and unite in the same acts of supplication; they listen to the same truths; they know but one gospel. If this com- munity of religious privileges is commendable, it is due to the legal relations of the master and the servant. It exists nowhere but in districts where slavery is recog- nised by law. It can exist in no other localities. It would not be tolerated in our Northern cities. Were such a thing to be attempted, the cry of amalgamation would rally thousands who would expurgate the offence by a summary process. There, however, Christian masters see nothing offensive in it. They adopt it from choice. WHTE OAK fARM. 229 In the North all men are masters. There are no ser- vants at all, except those employers who are at the mercy of their helps. Consequently, no such arrange. ment can exist. It is better for us that the white masters and mistresses should worship by themselves, and that the black masters and mistresses should have their own houses of worship. Our prejudices are too strong for any other disposition. ' Nowadays, too, the old idea that hired servants were a part of the family is almost exploded. They do not usually stay long enough in any one household to be identified with it. In fact, we have no servants any more, or, at best, very few. The most, if not all, we have, are "helps;" but they differ somewhat from those about whom the apos- tle writes. Pray, sir, do you wish to have slavery extended, so that we of the North may share its benefits? No: thank you; a thousand times no. But we wish you to understand that in -the South Christians regard the blacks with fewer prejudices and with far more sym- pathy than we do at the North. We wish you to admit that in a Christian household the servants of the South constitute an integral -part of the family, and thus to show that God can bring some good even out of this in- stitution, which becomes an intolerable evil when it is perverted. This relation has been the means, moreover, of bringing the gospel home to the hearts of thousands who, without it, would have had no man to care for their souls. But let us away to the church. Long before you come in sight of it, the voice of that bell comes floating on the quiet, hazy air, bidding the heedless pause and think :- '"There remaineth a rest for the people of God." The road which you strike when you pass through that open gate, the entrance to White Oak, leads straight to the "meeting-house." Hiere and there groups are dotted 20 page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, over its flinty surface, as the congregation gathers and moves towards the well-known spot. All seem cheerful. Why should they not be happy? Like David, Christians are always glad when the invitation is given,--"Come, let us go into the house of the Lord!" Then, there is much to promote the cheerfulness of social friendship in these meetings by the way. The labors of the week are ended. Another day of rest has come, to spread its sweet refreshment over the tired frame; and the jaded mind welcomes the calm repose, as God's boon to weary, careworn man. The Sabbath-the family :-from the first associated by the Great Creator, in the prime order of the world, and ever since maintained, the one as the guardian and protector of the other. Without the Sabbath, where would be the family? Without the family, where would be the Sabbath? Who is that moving yonder with an elegantly-dressed lady on his arm? He has the air of a gentleman,-the gait of a gentleman,-the independence of a prince. As he passes on, he salutes all whom he meets, masters and servants alike, with easy urbanity. Can it be that Mr. Aydelott is out to-day without his carriage? Has the pure air and the bracing tempera- ture of this October morning lured him to walk these few miles to church? "Mr. Aydelott; is that you?" The gentleman faces you, and so does the lady. His face is dark as ebony. It is Paul; with his wife. "Excuse me, Paul: I was mistaken!" "Oh, suttenly, sir; you are very 'scusable!" Be careful, next time, to see the face of your friend before you call him by name. In Virginia, on a fine Sunday, this caution may be worth something to you. All around the house you see groups of people, ex- changing the civilities of friendship in cheerful yet sub- WHTE OAK FARM. 231 dued conversation. The first bell has given its warning. In half an hour the services are to begin, and gradually the house is filling up: fresh arrivals are swelliSg the numbers. The aisle on the west side of the spacious church, and the galleries, are occupied by the servants. All are respectably attired, and not a few are dressed with a degree of easy elegance that displays both taste and refinement. You might suppose they had never listened to the harsh music of the overseer's lash, or to the clanking of the coffie-chain. And, we suspect, in that opinion you may safely take your seat: do not let such thoughts distress your sympathies or disturb your de- votions. There is a stillness in that house: the wor- shippers enter with noiseless tread. In the last five minutes of the interval before the commencement of the services, the thronging crowd has ceased to obstruct the entrance, and the door is shut. The last tones of the bell have pealed forth the morning invitation. The spacious edifice is full. The opening chant has been sung by four well-trained voices, each sustaining its ap-' propriate part.; and when the words of the precious Psalm, "The Lord is my Shepherd," have been recited, in the glowing utterance of Christian faith and hope,-- "'I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever '--Dr. Haddon rises and invokes God's blessing on thewor- shipping assembly. The hymn has been read. You feel, when the clergyman takes his seat, .that reading is an art. He has given you not only the words, but the intonations of his voice have helped you to appreciate the full sense of every stanza. There has been no air theatrical about it. It has been read without any affectation of rhetoric, but with that easy grace-the fruit of educated taste--which, in following nature, reaches the perfection of art. Oh, that singing! The art in which the slaves excel is vocal music. There is a keen .perception of harmony, and an enthusiastic love page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, of pure melody, which seem almost characteristic of the African race when brought under the influence of musi- cal cultivation. The song rises in a volume of purest praise, and floats away up to the throne of God, like a cloud of incense ascending from grateful hearts. If men tell you God will not accept it, because the voices of masters and servants blend in that chorus, do not believe them. He tells you that every believing slave- worshipper there is Christ's freeman, and every Chris- tian master is Christ's servant. Perhaps you will say Dr. Haddon is not what many hearers would call an eloquent preacher. Very likely. But many, alas! do not know what eloquence is. He neither beats nor saws the- air. He never rants: he does not whirl his arms over his head like the wings of a windmill in a storm. He is grave, serious, earnest, affectionate. If you wait to hear some "rich and stir- ring anecdote" that will peradventure send a titter of delightful levity through the galleries or waken a stir of suppressed laughter in those tiers of pews, you will wait in vain. Such exhibitions are profane. Find me one such example in all the recorded sermons of pro- phets or apostles, or in the discourses of the matchless Preacher "who spake as never man spake." Oh, the antics of the merry-andrew, the mouthing of a mounte- bank preacher, may draw a coil of admiring hearers all through the crowded aisles and up the pulpit-stairs, until the preacher jostles against his hearer and has hardly room enough to play the fool in; but, while the perspiration of vanity covers his face with beads, God's angels turn away, indignant at the sacrilege. Such men have mistaken their calling. They might make a for- tune in the walks of low comedy; but God save us from buffoonery in the pulpit! That is no place for jokes. If clear exposition of Christian doctrine, and logic concise and convincing as truth itself,-if diction, chaste, WHTE OAK FARM. 233 terse, and elegant,-if illustrations apt and forcible, drawn from the resources of nature and' science,-belong to the elements of eloquence, then Dr. Haddon is an eloquent preacher. He is no drawler. He does not spend his hour in a pious humdrum that sends his dea- con to -the land of Nod before he has fairly begun his preachment. He has no holy nasal twang to commend him. There is no pious whine vibrating like the note of a Scotch pitch-pipe all through his sentences. He feels what he speaks, and he speaks what he feels. But he is not one of your sentimental preachers, either. His fancy is not skipping before you, like a red butterfly in a field of clover, or spreading its wings, when it rests, to catch the gleam of approbation glowing in the countenance of some enraptured sophomore. or boarding-school miss who is just awaking to an appre- ciation of the westhetic. He has a burden of truth to bear. He comes laden with a message from God. He feels his responsibility. He magnifies his office,--not himself. He is Christ's ambassador. He pleads, with them that hear him, for eternity. He believes the gospel which he preaches. He sees heaven and hell filled with undying realities. He knows there is salvation in none but Christ. So he believes, and so he preaches. , Do you say he is not eloquent? If eloquence be the art of aptly and forcibly presenting truth, then surely he is eloquent. Look at that sea of upturned faces, all bending towards the preacher: not a sound can you hear in all that house but the speaker's voice. In that pause, the tick of the clock in the choir-gallery rings out upon the stillness as though it were midnight. The silence itf almost painful: it is silence that may be felt. Yes, he is eloquent. You are constrained to confess his power. You look around you, startled, at the close, to see how time has flown. You throw your mind's eye 20* page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, over what you have heard; and now you understand. He stops when he is done. Would that all preachers would do so! Such preachers were Whitefield and Ma- son and Griffin, but they are dead. "Oh, Mast'r Lawrence!" said Basil, as he tightened the girth around Roan, "dat was good. It jes' makes me feel as if I wanted to go right straight away and be done wid dis worl'." "Tak' care, Bawsil, that ye dinna lose yer feelings afore ye git back to White Oak. It's a solemn thing for a man to say, with Paul, ' I am ready,'" replied the colonel. "Tak' these lines of the last hymn with you, my dear fellow, and remember them:-- 'When my forgetful soul renews The savor of thy grace, My heart presumes I cannot lose The relish all my days. ' But, ere one fleeting hour is pass'd, The flattering world employs Some sensual bait to win my taste And to pollute my joys.' " "Yes, mast'r, I knows all 'bout dat from my own 'xperience. We's all apt to lose de sermon on de way home; but I hope de Lord 'll help me to keep what I's heerd dis day," replied the negro, walking by the side of his master.' "And he will, Bawsil,--he will; God bless you," said the colonel. 'I's sorry Dr. Haddon isn't gwine to preach for us at de school-house dis arternoon," said Basil. "'Pears to me I don' want to hear nobody else. 'Pears as if I couldn't hear de voice of a stranger. I knows I is a stubborn ole tup of a sheep, anyhow; but I can say,-it is de trufe,- I love to hear such sarmons as I heerd to-day." "Aweel, Bawsil, it isna every mon that can gi'e us the WHrITE OAKR FARM. 235 like o' that; but if it's gospel-music, we maun listen and be thankful whether it comes frae a ram's horn or a siller trumpet," replied the colonel. Fact! Dat's so!" said Basil, smiling; and then, with a gentle bow of familiar respect, he stood holding the gate open while the family passed through, and then, after being joined by Tamar and his four boys, he made his way back to the quarter. The afternoon service was of a different character. The preacher was a young man, who spoke extenipo- raneously and with great earnestness. He abounded in illustrations,--more forcible, however, than elegant. Still, his sermon was effective, and not a few of his hear- ers, who, with the exception of the family at White Oak, were all servants from the neighboring planta- tions, thought him the very best preacher they had ever heard. This, however, was not the estimation in which Basil held him. As he walked home he said to his wife,- "Ole woman, dat's a kind o' preachin' dat I doesn't like." "What's de matter wid it?" said Tamar, who was rather pleased than otherwise. "Well, I doesn't want to find fault wid de gospel, nohow, Tamar," replied the old man. 4'Dat's allers good: but when a gemman comes to preach for us it allers kind o' riles me when he talks to us as if he was preachin' to niggas dat don' know nuffin. I likes white preachin'.", 'You go 'long, now, ole man!--you's gettin' too high!" said Tamar. "No, I isn't," was'Basil's answer; and, taking the end of a plug of Cavendish between his teeth, he quietly located a fresh supply of the "horrid stuff" in his capa- cious mouth, rolling it as a sweet morsel under his tongue. '"No," he repeated; 'I isn't gettin' too high, page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, but I likes de preacher to give us some credit for bein' 'telligent. I don' want him to be all de time a 'lus- tratin' what I knows a'ready, and what every little picayune in de Sunday-school knows by heart. 'T'a'n't no use. You know what he said 'bout de hogs, don' you? "Well, I 'most forgit, ole man. He did say somefin' 'bout dem critters, I believe," replied Tamar. "Ole woman, I's afeard you's nuffin but a wayside hearer. You don' remember de tex' one half de time," said Basil. "You know he tole us not to treat de Lord as de hogs does. 'Dey go 'bout,' says he, 'rootin' and rootin' on de groun', crunchin' up de acorns; but dey never once looks up to de tree from which de nuts drap.'" "Yes, I 'member now," said Tanmar. "He did say dat; but jes' 'bout dat time I was pullin' at Turvy, for he was all de time cotchin' flies and puttin' 'em in a paper box and den a-holdin' 'em to his ear." "I's gwine to 'minister'scipline to dat young un for his imperence, and dat to-morrow mornin', de wery fus' t'ing," said Basil, with great emphasis. "I's boun' to let him go till then, for it's agin de fourth command- ment to do any manner of work to-day; but he'll git a wholesome lesson jes' about sunrise Monday mornin' comin'." "Mast'r Lawrence won't like it, ole man: maybe you better let him alone," said Tamar. "!3Iast'r Lawrence knows dat Solomon says, 'Spare de rod and spile de chile,/" retorted Basil; " and I knows I's gwine to switch dat young un, if my life's spared till to-morrow to see de sun rise." About that time next morning there was an unusual squalling in the domicile of old Basil; and, as Turvy was seen shortly after running in his nocturnal habiliments out of the door in great alarm, followed by Basil, who WHTE OAK FARM. 237 flourished a thin switch, it is natural to infer that he had endeavored to keep the child from spoiling, espe- cially as the urchin made efforts to soothe the region which had been disciplined by a course of vigorous and spasmodic rubbings. CRAPT" XX. THE same glorious sunshine which had cheered the worshippers at White Oak on the Sunday of which we have spoken attracted a large concourse of people to the various churches in the beautiful city of Phila- delphia. Through the streets which led to the open doors of one of those magnificent temples which have within the last few years adorned the newer precincts of the city, a throng of men and women were wending their way, and the capacious area of the church was soon filled to overflowing. The congregation had as- sembled, and the religious exercises had already begun, when a well-dressed negro stopped before the massive pile of architecture, and stood in mute astonishment and admiration. "Dis beats our meetin'-house at White Oak!" said he, soliloquizing. "It's ahead of any thing I's ever seed since I was borned! Jes' look at dat buildin, now. I say, mister," said he, addressing a brother African who happened to be passing at this juncture. "Well, sa?" was the response, as the stranger stood at Tip's challenge, (for it was Tip, as the reader has already surmised.) "I's a stranger in dese parts, sa, and I jes' wants to ax de favor ob you to tell me what 'nomination of a meetin'-house dis yer is," said Tip. page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "I' happy to inform you, sa," replied the other, with genuine politeness: "it's a * * * * church." "'T'a'n't pawsible, now!" exclaimed Tip. "De very 'nomination I has de honna to b'long to. I's bin a mem- ber ob dat church for de last six years ob my life." I "Whar's you from, mister?" said the other. "I's from Ole Virginny," said Tip. "Nlot ben yer long, I reckon," said his companion. "No; dis is de fust Sunday I's ever ben in dis yer town," replied Tip. "I's cum to seek my fortin in a free State." "Ha! Indeed, sa?" exclaimed his new acquaintance; and then, lowering his voice, he inquired, "Did you cut and run for it'?" Tip colored slightly, but immediately replied, with great dignity,-- "I's got my free papers, mister, all right accordin to law." "Well, you's lucky, sa, 'pon my word," replied the other.!"But if you hadn't, and I could be of any man- ner of service, you know, I could take you to friends dat would be most happy to 'commodate you wid ad- vice and help you on yer way to Canaday." "I's not gwine dar," said Tip. "Wall, if it's not 'trudin' 'pon yer politeness, sa," said the stranger, "may I ask what you's gwine to do for a livin'?" "Not made up my mind jes' yet 'bout dat," replied Tip. "I isn't in any petic'lar want of nuffin at dis pre- sent time, sa. I's none ob yer pore niggas, or pore white folks nudder. I's ben a servant to a gemman ob de fust quality. " "Bought yerself, eh? Well, I decla'!" said his inter- rogator. ",No, sa. My worthy mast'r guv me my freedom froo WHTE OAK FARM. 289 gratis for nuffin," replied Tip, "and I's here for a speri- ment, to see how I likes it." "Yer a lucky man, sa; and I'm happy to have made yer 'quaintance. May I ax yer name?" continued the negro. "My name is Timothy Lawrence, sa, by good rights, but for common I's allers ben called Tip. Pray, sa, what mought your name be?" inquired Tip. "It mought be Timothy, too, but 't'a'n't," said the other, laughing. "My name is William Mullenow, at your service, sa." "Well, Mister Mullenow, I's obliged for yer perlite- ness," said Tip, who did not much relish the former clause of the answer, "and so I'll jes' bid yer a very good mornin', sa, and enter dis splendid meetin'-house." "You'd better not," said his companion. "What fur?" exclaimed Tip, with some surprise. "What fur?" repeated William, staring at him with astonishment. "Jes' bekase, if you go into dat meetin'- house, you'll have to come out of it quicker nor you went in. Why, dat's a church dat none but de quality goes to. Dey don't have no culled folks dar.!' "'Mist'r. Mullenow," said Tip, "I'd like to know if de folks dar is any better nor Colonel Lawrence, or Mist'r Clarence, or Judge Woodhull, or any of de oders I could name, dat b'longs to de fust families in Ole Virginny?" "I don' know wedder dey is, or is not," said William. "Well, sa," continued Tip, "dey allows de culled folks to worship wid dem, allers, sa! I's been used to dat since I was a little feller, from de time when ole Uncle Basil took me by de hand and led me to de meet- in'-house; and I's gwine in, Mister Mullenow." And, so saying, Tip left his new acquaintance, who looked on with mute astonishment until he saw the negro actually pass through the vestibule into the church. I'll jes' wait -on de oder side of dis yer street," said page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] , 240 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR., William, laughing to himself, 'and see what'll come of dat feller." Sure enough, Tip entered, and, unobserved by any one of the congregation, took a vacant seat, near the door. The music of the organ, which was playing an interlude in a subdued combination, was perfectly ravishing to Tip. He had never heard any thing so sweetly solemn. Presently the choir joined in the words of a familiar hymn, every line of which Tip knew by heart. With- out a moment's hesitation, the negro joined in the words with voice and soul, and, with a musical accuracy which showed both taste and training, he maintained the tenor part through several lines of the verse. There was some turning of heads in the congregation towards the door. Poor Tip did not know that the folks in some churches sing by proxy. He was unenlightened. Anon there was whispering, and soon Tip felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, and the sexton stood by his side. The negro had been sitting with his eyes closed, altogether unconscious of the sensation he was arousing. The sexton was a gentleman, as all sextons ought to be. He knew, at a glance, that Tip had unconsciously violated the customs of the place. "My friend," said he, speaking softly in the ear of the negro. "Your servant, sa," responded Tip, smiling and bow- ing to the sexton. "You had better go out: you are disturbing the con- gregation. Just step out with me, and I will explain matters to you," said the sexton. Tip rose at once and followed him. ( I's sorry, sa, 'pon my word. . I didn't mean to 'sturb de meetin'-house," said Tip, as the two stood in the vestibule. "Well, my good fellow," replied the other, "I believe you. You are probably a stranger here." WHTE OAK FARM. 241 "Dat's so," said Tip, bowing politely, but in utter amazement. I's ben yer only a few days. I b'long to de * * * * Church in Virginny, and I was tole dis meeting'-house b'longs to dat 'nomination, so I thought I'd jes go in same as I used to at hum." "All right, my friend," said the other: "but here we manage things differently. There's a very decent church down town, built on purpose for the accommoda- tion of your people, and they have a good preacher too. I think you would be at home there." ' "I meant no offence, mast'r," said Tip, "but, you see, I's allers been used to white preachin'. De culled preachin' in Virginny a'n't much account, nohow." A young man, whose dress was that of a gentleman, approached the sexton, and rudely inquired,- "What does the nigger want?" Poor Tip had disappeared before the answer could be given, and, drawing his hand hastily over his eyes, he muttered, whilst a tear moistened his cheek,- "1 No white man ever called me a nigga all de years dat I was at hum. And nobody in all de worlp ever called me by dat name, 'ceptin' some of our own boys, when dey was havin' a little fun. Miss Jeannie taught us dat tex' out of de good book, but I guess dat white gemman, maybe, never heard it:--'He Idat oppresseth the pore reproacheth his Maker.'" The counsel of the good sexton, we believe, was judi- cious, though Tip was not prepared altogether to appre- ciate it; and yet we have sometimes thought that it might perhaps not be amiss, if all our grand churches would allow a corner of their gallery to be appropriated to the colored friends who may prefer white" preach- ing. We do occasionally-pardon the heresy, thou- potent Public opinion!--we do occasionally meet with men whose skin is darker, by many shades, than our own, but who evince an intelligence in conversation and Q 21 page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, a propriety in demeanor that positively are almost equal,--we wish to speak advisedly and cautiously,-- almost equal, we say, to the mental cultivation and manners of some white people. Now, the fact is unde- niable, that such colored members of society are some- times not at home in those churches built for the accom- modation of their people, which are accessible to them, and they have not the means to build new houses of worship and to sustain the preaching of the gospel. They feel their privation most keefily, and we cannot help admitting, sometimes, that it is almost cruel to preclude them from the enjoyment of a privilege which they covet. We have, at this moment, in our mind, a case of this very sort. The man is esteemed by all who know him. His wit is as keen as the razor with which he is ready to shave his customers on any day in the week except- ing Sunday. His mind is well cultivated, considering his advantages, and, were it not that his skin is very dark, he would really be an ornament to any society that might admit him into its circle. On several occa- sions he did venture into a church to hear a white- preacher, and modestly took a seat in the corner of a pew nearest to the door; but, though he was never advised to seek other quarters, he noticed that a gentle- man shied off as he entered the church, like a horse that sees a dark object in its way, and since then he has not quite felt so free to repeat what might give offence. This subject is certainly suggestive. We at the North are op- posed very generally, both by principle and prejudice, to the whole system of slavery; and yet it is a lamentable truth, that the African race encounters a sterner array of prejudice and antipathy among us than at the South. Why is it? Nothing is more notorious than the fact, that the discrimination upon which we insist with so much tenacity that it has become almost as rigid as WHTE OAK FARM. 243 any of the ancient blue-laws in the land of steady habits, is scarcely known in the South in its religious relations. We think we can account for it; and, if we are correct, our rationale of the phenomenon renders the prospect of its abatement by no means brilliant. The contrast is owing simply to the difference in the relation of the negro to the whites, north and south of the dividing-line between the free and slave States. In the former the colored population constitutes a class not only degraded but isolated, whilst in the latter the negro race is held in honor by all Christian people when they adorn their position by fidelity as servants, and are protected by the strong arm of Christians, who regard them as members of their household. Constituted as Northern society is, and as it ever will be, in our opinion, the mass of the colored population of the land will be far happier under such protection than it possibly can be without it, and when the day shall come-and God grant it may be soon -when every statute shall be erased from the Southern codes that stands out in defiance of the law of God and of the dictates of humanity, all reasonable men will have cause to rejoice in the happiness of the African race. Colonization may do much, but it can never accomplish the expatriation of the negroes from this continent. Emancipation would only add to the perplexities which invest this subject in every latitude, and would be of no real advantage to three-fourths of the slaves. Christian- ity, by the blessing' of God, can do, and will do, every thing which reason, justice, and the law oflove can effect for the amelioration of every form of oppression, out- rage, and wrong, in every nation under heaven. Then let the Bible do its work. It will do it. There is com- fort in that. There are two sides to this subject. They are pre- sented in the three annexed paragraphs, which were cut as items from the "North American," in the months:!jl , . ' page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] A4 THE OLIIVE-BRANCH* OR, January and February, 1857, all within ten days of each other. The first is this:- 'RETURNED TO SLAVERY.--The Hartford (Conn.) Times gives an account of Caroline Banks and her children, and Mary Francis, slaves, lately liberated by their mistress, Mrs. Sarah Branch, of Chesterfield, Virginia, who have voluntarily re- turned to bondage, after trying to support themselves in Boston as free people. They declared that they had toiled constantly and could scarcely gain a subsistence, and wanted a master to protect them. The second is the following:-- " PREFERS SLAVERY.-Some years since, a gentleman of Washington county, Virginia, Mr. James Reed, died, leaving a provision in his will for the manumission and removal of his slaves at the death of his sister. His sister dying some three or four years since, the slaves were set free and removed to Pennsylvania. A few months ago, a gentleman received a letter from one of these servants, requesting permission to re- turn to that county and become his slave. He prefers slavery in Virginia to freedom in Pennsylvania, and has had a fair experience in both.-Richmond Dis." These are strong facts; but the former instance is more startling than the latter, as the reader's own judgment will readily suggest. In the latter instance, it is fair to argue that, Mwith the exception of the party named, the others preferred freedom in Pennsylvania to slavery in Virginia, after "a fair experience in both." The third is as follows:- "BURNING A SLAVE.--We learn, from the Eufala (Ala- bama) Native, that a slave-man was burned at Abbeville, in that State, by a mob of people numbering over four thousand. He was taken from jail, the sheriff offering no resistance, and tied firmly to a stake, around which was heaped fat-pine wood, WHTE OAK 'FAR3. 245 so as to make a pile six feet in diameter and four feet high' Fire was then applied, and the poor' wretch as burned to ashes. The crime of which he was guilty wasthe murder of his master." A terrible crime, but a most horrible punishment; Will you charge this cruelty upon -the institution of slavery? Is it not rather due to the madness of infu- riated passion ? Slavery and cruelty are two distinct things in our mind, and, as we believe, in'reality. That they are distinct is sufficiently proved by the two items which precede this sad narrative of rage. 'You may tell us that the crime to which this dreadful punishment was awarded is unnatural and horrible. Ve know it. The murder of a Christian master by his servant is parricide. The wages of that sin, by the law of God and man, is death; but justice must be meted out without the hot fury of revenge. Such vengeance inflicts more injury upon the homes of the perpetrators than all the ravings of fanaticism can equal in a century. The patrons of such outrage are the worst enemies of the South. God never winks at cruelty. As surely as God lives, so surely he will avenge it. There are those, we know, who will persist in charging all such wrongs upon slavery as the sole bitter fountain; but this indiscriminate judgment is absurd. Murders and mob-violence at the North are not to be traced to the spirit of freedom. They are due in every latitude to that fierce spirit which defies the precepts of the law of God. Every true heart condemns them,-allows no palliation for the. outrage and cruelty,-and hopes and prays for the day when better influences shall prevail. Whilst we are writing these pages, we have encoun- tered the following additional items, which we extract from the same journal, under date of February 13:- page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] o2 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "SEA-DESPOTS.-We recently copied from a Liverpool paper a paragraph complaining of the extreme tyranny of the American captains of vessels reaching that port, as shown by the frequent and troublesome cases which appear in their criminal calendars. Our people are, perhaps, too much in the h'abit of attributing publications of this kind to the habitual spirit of detraction towards all things American which the English receive credit for. But there is certainly room to inquire whether there is not some foundation for the state- ment. We find in the Boston Traveller, of Wednesday, a case of cruelty at sea reported, which fairly illustrates the kind of complaints so frequently appearing before Liverpool magistrates. It is as follows:- "'c Extreme Cruelty at Sea-A Man Driven Overboard and Drowned.-On Tuesday, in the U S. Commissioner's Court, before Commissioner E. Merwin, Frederick Dunbar, captain of ship Champion, and Davies Johnson, were brought up for exa- mination on the charge of cruelly beating and wounding a seaman, named George Bell, while the vessel was at sea, on or about the first day of last December. C. P. Thompson, Esq. appeared for the Government, and J. H. Prince, Esq. for the- defence. "' Mr. Thompson said that the witnesses were now in the hospital at Chelsea, and unable to appear. "'Mr. Prince said he was ready to go on with the case. He thought there would be found no evidence against the captain, however it might be concerning the boatswain. "' It is alleged that the ship sailed from Marseilles on the 22d of December, and had been at sea but nine days when George Bell, a seaman, was ordered to get his hat; but this he was unable to do, as he had lost it; that he was assailed in the most brutal manner by the mate and boatswain; that he was repeatedly struck with belaying-pins, &c.; and that his head was shockingly bruised, and that his nose was broken. Being still pursued by his assailants, and suffering intensely from his WHTE OAIK FARM. 247 injuries, he ran forward and jumped over the side of the ves- sel near the bows, and was lost. It is further stated that, prior to the Sunday morning on which this last act was com mitted, Bell had been severely and cruelly beaten. There are eight of the crew now in the Marine Hospital at Chelsea, most or all of them suffering from frozen feet or hands; and, on this account, the Government asked a delay. It is the purpose of the prosecuting officer to have a most thorough and searching examination, and, if possible, to develop all the facts in the case. The mate is missing; and it is n6t charged, as we understand it, that the captain was an active participant in the assault which ended in the death of Bell, or that he was in any way connected with the affair. The ship has not yet dis- charged her cargo, and, as the mate and other officers have gone, the captain alone is left in charge of the ship. The bonds of the captain were fixed, bail given, and the case con- tinued to Friday next, when it is hoped by the physician at the hospital that the witnesses may be able to attend. The case is one of peculiar interest.' "A portion of the responsibility for this condition of things certainly rests upon the shipping-merchants who give employ. ment to these sea-despots. It ought-to be regarded by every shipper as a duty he owes to his own character, to inquire closely into the character of his captains for humanity, as well as their knowledge of the art of navigation." Plainly, there are despots on sea as well as on land,-- despots, too, whose ships hail from "the cradle of liber- ty." Shall we then charge these sins upon the peculiar institutions of the North? Would not a man be re- garded as a fit candidate for a Commission of Lunacy, who should so far -forget the dictates of reason as to prefer such an accusation? Does not common sense teach us that in every such case the "sea-despot" is personally accountable to God and the laws of his coun- try for every outrage? Then judge righteous judg- page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, ment! The poor sailor who leaped overboard in the wild frenzy of despair, pursued by the murderous boat- swain, had not committed the offence of killing his cap- tain. His sin consisted in coming on deck without his hat! Mien of Massachusetts, take the beam out of your own eye! Then shall ye see clearly to take the mote out of the eye of your brother in Alabama! Take another instance:- "A FIVE-POINTS CHLD SLOWLY MURDERED.-In June, Mr. Pease, of the Five Points Mission, New York, committed one of the children of his Mission School, an interesting little girl, named Anna Hilton, to the care of Mrs. Simeon Decker, at Long Neck, Staten Island. The child has just died, and a coroner's jury find that she came to her death by being beaten in a brutal manner, from exposure, and from a want of proper nourishment, at the hands of Mrs. Matilda Ann Decker. Mrs. Decker is placed in jail to await the action of the grand jury. The evidence disclosed frightful cruelties. A few days before her death, the child was required to do the washing of the family, in the yard, with but little clothing, and no stockings or shoes on. Her feet were in consequence badly frozen; and, in this condition, she subsequently placed them in the oven of the stove, unconscious of the danger, until they were com- pletely blistered. For all this, she has been required to work about the house, creeping at times upon her hands and knees until they were dreadfully lacerated and swollen. The child has been allowed but little or no food for some time past. On one occasion she swallowed a quantity of molasses that she found in her hunger. Her body was reduced to a mere skele- ton. In this wretched way the little sufferer eked out a miserable existence until Wednesday evening, when death came to her relief." If an act of like atrocious cruelty can be produced from all the annals of slave outrage, we have never WHTE OAK FARM. 249 heard of it. That Alabama outrage was tender mercy, when compared with this Staten Island ferocity. In the one case, a murderer is BURNED TO DEATH at the stake. We say this was barbarous punishment; but, in the other, a poor, helpless, defenceless orphan-child- from her birth doubly a child of sin and sorrow-is murdered by inches, with aggravations of cruelty which make the heart bound with indignant abhorrence of the foul inhumanity;--murdered by a fiend in the form of a woman! And, to cap the dire climax of infernal malice, starved and frozen-not burned, but FROZEN--TOF DEATH, without provocation. Mrs. Browning has well said,- "But the child's sob curseth deeper in the silence Than the strong man in his wrath." Say, men of the North! Would it not be insulting, and injurious to hold up that Staten Island monster as the type of your wives and mothers? Verily, it would. Then, when you speak of your brethren of the South, "judge righteous judgment." Remember who hath said, "Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged. And with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." Say you these cases are not parallel? They are parallel; equal they are not. This argument, however, is both parallel and equal. You say, Slaves are cruelly treated in the South; therefore, slavery ought to be abolished. * Another answers, Sailors at sea are cruelly treated by Northern masters, bruised with belaying-pins, their heads cut, their noses broken, for losing their hats, until in despair they jump overboard. Therefore, the com- mercial marine should at once be abolished, and much more the navy. At all events, Northern men should not be permitted to have any part in either. ?"Shf, page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Another answers, Servant-children in the North are cruelly murdered; therefore, every form of Northern servitude ought to be abolished. Another answers, Several cases of the murder of hus- bands by their wives are, at this very time, agitating the public mind; therefore, marriage should henceforth be abolished. If a man gets a wife, she will be sure to kill him. Had we not better alter both the premises and the inference in the first proposition? Let us try. How will it read now? Some slaves are cruelly treated in the South; there. fore, such cruelty on the part of masters should be severely punished by law. To this Christian sentiment North and South responds, Amen! Oh, very likely! But all masters at the South are not Christians. There's the rub! So, indeed! Are all masters at the North Christians? If there are land-despots at the South, can no sea-despots be found at the North? Let the land-despots bear their own burden, and the sea-despots bear theirs; and let every man answer for himself. But let not the innocent be condemned with the guilty. WHTE OAK FARM. 251 T aAPTER XXI. TiP had found employment in the house of friend Uriah Sneckman. We might, perhaps, to speak more accurately, have substituted Mrs. Priscilla in place of Uriah, for the lady, being a woman of strong mind, was of far more account in the Sneckman economy than her meek and patient husband. "My dear, how does thee like thy new man-servant?" inquired Uriah, at the breakfast-table, some weeks after Tip had been in her employ. "What is the reason, Uriah, that thee persists in calling me thy dear?" responded Priscilla, in a tone which was by no means edifying to her spouse. "I have told thee again and again that I cannot and will not either admire or endure this acquiescence on thy part with the vulgar prejudices, or modes of speech even, which seem to imply the superiority of thy sex over mine; and yet thee will be' 'dearing' me continually." "Verily, I meant no offence, Priscilla. I have always acknowledged thy equality. Thee knows that," replied Uriah. "Then forbear thy unseemly epithets. As regards the man-servant Timothy, I can plainly see that time and pains will be requisite to teach him even the rudi- ments of the knowledge which is essential to the main- tenance of rational self-respect." "Well, thee knows best," said Uriah, handing his empty cup to be replenished with coffee, "and I;defer to thy judgment, Priscilla; but, I must say, Timothy takes excellent care of my old horse." Yo page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "The horse is as much mine as thine," retorted Pris- cilla. "Call the beast thy horse: it matters not," replied Uriah. "Yea, but it does matter," said she of the strong mind. "Certainly it does, if thee thinks so," replied the other.- There was a pause of some minutes, during which Uriah meekly discussed his breakfast, for he saw plainly that in the present mood of his wife it would not be safe to .discuss any other subject. Priscilla laid her hand upon the bell-handle. It was answered forthwith by a damsel of some fifty summers, who, like Tip, had been only recently engaged to minister to Priscilla Sneckman. "Bridget, thee can call Timothy into the kitchen, to get his breakfast," said Priscilla. "Be jabers, Mistress Sneckman, and ef ye think the likes o' Bridget is a-goin' to ait in the kitchen wid a dirty nagur, ye'll be afther larnin' to the conthrary." replied Bridget. "I shall certainly have to discharge thee, Bridget, if thee does not speak more rationally," said Priscilla. "Ye may discharge me, marm," replied the dutiful help; "but I'll not go till I'm ready. I'm engaged by the month, and ef I'm to go afore the time's up I'll have my month's wage. A month's warning, or a month's wage, jist whichiver ye like best. It's all the same to Beddy." "Go thy way, Bridget,--go thy way," said Uriah. ", Thy words are impertinent; thy speech is unbecoming and unsavory.'" "Och! be the powers, if ye're afther beddin' me call that nagur, ye may jist call him in yersel'," replied Bridget, leaving her employers to their own reflections. WHTE OAK FARM. 253 "My patience is completely worn out with that woman," exclaimed Priscilla. "What is thy will concerning her?" inquired Uriah. "I know-not what to say," replied Priscilla. "Neither do I," responded Uriah. "If I discharge her, it will put me to great incon- venience. There are several important meetings which are to be held this week, and I shall want all my time," said Priscilla. "So thee will," Uriah assented. "Perhaps thee had better bear with her manners, then, until thee can be suited to thy liking. Not that I wish to dictate, or even to counsel thee. I will go and call Timothy my- self, for peace' sake." "Thee had better not," said Priscilla. "Satisfied," replied Uriah, quietly folding his hands. Bridget wap not satisfied, however, as was soon abundantly manifest. To tell the truth, she either had never joined a temperance-society, or, if she had, she had broken her pledge; for she was redolent of the fumes of bad whiskey,-unfortunately, not the result of an external application. Tip, having attended to his duties in the stable, was making his way to the kitchen, (for it was a sharp morning,) when he was assailed with a perfect tempest of abuse from Bridget, who had managed to work herself into a towering passion. "Be off wid ye!" said she, standing at the entrance of the kitchen, which she defended with a steaming kettle; "be off, I say, and don't pit yer black face in- side 6' this door, or ye'll taste this hot wather on yer crooked shins, ye miserable nagur!" "Hi! Mistis Blidgit!" exclaimed Tip; "you's high dis mornin'!" "'Bridget, Bridget," said Uriah, "I shall be con- strained to call in the police." "CThe perlace! The perlace, did ye say? Lot 'em 22 page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, come! D'ye think ye'll frighten the likes o' me wid yer perlace?" screamed Bridget. "Bridget, this won't do," said Mistress Priscilla. "Thee is disturbing the neighbors." "The neighbors is it, Mistress' Sneckman? The neighbors . And what do I care fer them?" shouted the intrepid Bridget. "If they want any thing, let 'em come and see what they'll git for their interfarence!" and she swung the kettle with a vigor which certainly was formidable. Unfortunately for her, however, the stimulus which she had swallowed rendered her utterly reckless of her own safety as well as regardless of the comfort of others, and a stream of the boiling water, obeying the law of gravitation, poured out of the spout of the kettle, which she had slightly turned from its true horizontal parallel, and the hot fluid, coming in con- tact with her feet, caused her to fling the kettle from her with a scream of fury. "Och! I'm kilt intirely! I'm burned clane to the bone,-I am! Och, ye nagur!" "Bridget, thee must go away from the house," said Priscilla. "I can retain thee no longer. Now, thee must go peaceably, or I shall surely call in the police." !"Och, but I'll not go," said Bridget. "If ye call the perlace, I'll let 'cm thry to carry me, after I've geven 'em a taste of what Paddy gav' the drum! Och, but I'm burned! I'm kilt, ye cruel craturs!" "What shall I do, Priscilla?" said Uriah, in a voice of distress. "This noise is disgraceful." "I nebber did see jes' sich didos since I was borned!" said Tip. "Why, Mast'r Sneckum " "Call no man master, Timothy. My name is Uriah," said the gentleman. "Well, neider you nor I ah, Mast'r Sneckum, ever did see jes' sich goin's-on. Why, I tell you, mast'r" Tip continued. WHTE OA'K FARM. 255 "I am not thy master, Timothy; nor do I wish thee to address me as such," said Uriah. "Golly, massa! what is you, den?" said Tip. "If you isn't my mast'r, I don' know nuffin: dat's sure!" "Come in and get thy breakfast, Timothy," said Uriah, a smile spreading over his benevolent face. "Dat's what I wants to do," said Tip; "but Mistis Blidgit won't 'low me, Massa Sneckum!" "Thry it, ye nagur," growled Bridget, who had seated herself on the sill of the door, and was holding her burned foot, swaying to and fro. "Come in, Timothy," Uriah repeated. "Let him come if he dar'," said Bridget. Friend Uriah was a tall and powerful man; and, though a very patient one, he was not in a mood to allow Bridget to proceed any further. "Rise up, Bridget, I command thee, if thou wouldst have it be well with thee. Take my advice. I do not wish to strike thee, Bridget; but, if thee stirs to do harm to Timothy, my hand will surely fall on thee ;" and Uriah's hand was uplifted. "Now, Massa Sneckum," said Tip, "if Mistis Blidgit was black instead ob white, I wouldn't hab stood out yer so long in de cole; but in Virginny de culled folks isn't 'lowed to raise dere hand 'gainst a white pusson, 'ceptin when de mast'r tells 'em. So, if you jes' say de word, Massa Sneckum, I'll clar de road. I isn't at all 'larmed at Mistis Blidgit, if it isn't agin de law. Not. dat I would strike her, mast'r; but I can lift her off dat yer sill as easy as a cat can lift a kitten." "Rise, Bridget," said Uriah., "Be jabers, and I won't do any sich thing fer de likes o' yersel' or dat nagur," was the defiant answer. Uriah looked at Tip and then at Bridget, and gave a wink which Tip understood. Before Bridget knew where she was, she found herself in the arms of Tip, page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, who raised her from the ground despite of her strug- gles. "Whar shall I set her, Mast'r Sneckum?" said Tip. "What is thy opinion, Priscilla?" inquired Uriah, in some embarrassment. Priscilla was at a loss what to say. Bridget essayed to scream, but Tip brought one hand to bear upon her mouth, and a suppressed hum was the only audible sound, as he held her, waiting for farther orders. "Will thee go up-stairs, or be carried?" inquired Uriah. Tip eased one hand a little, to allow her to reply. "Och, I'll do nayther," said Bridget. { Then follow me, Timothy," said Uriah; and he led the way to Bridget's apartment. "Now, Bridget, if thee makes any further disturb- ance I shall have thee removed to the station-house at once. If thee is content to be quiet until thee is sober," continued Uriah, "thee can sleep off the effects of thy vile liquor, and save thyself both trouble and expense. But I see thy bottle, and I must take care of that." Looking out of the window, to ascertain that the coast was clear, he dashed the bottle on the pavement of the side-yard. Bridget was subdued. She blubbered and sniffled, and finally threw herself on her cot, where Uriah and Tip left her to her own reflections, taking the precaution to lock the door from the outside. "Thee managed that matter discreetly, Timothy," said Uriah, his face beaming with good-humor. "Now thee has earned thy breakfast, and thee must have it, if I have to wait on thee myself." "Yah! hi! ho! He! he! Massa Sneckum," said Tip, his broad face shining with unrepressed merriment, "Mistis Blidgit will git on a spree. But nebber mind de breakfust. I kin cook jes' as well as Blidgit,--and a heap WHTE OA'K FARM. 257 better too, if I's to form my 'pinion ob her ability in dat respec' from my own sperience." "What! thee can cook?" exclaimed Uriah, in sur- prise. "Cook! Suttenly, Massa Sneckum. Jes' let Tip git the dinner for you and mistis, and see if I isn't jes' as handy at dat as I is at any t'ing. Only, mast'r, you must 'low me to change my clothes and wash off." "Priscilla," said Uriah, "Timothy says, if thee has no objections, he would like to prepare 'dinner for thee to-day. What is thy opinion?" "He may do it," said Priscilla. "Very well," responded Uriah. "Should not some- thing be done for Bridget's scalded foot also? Thee knows that water was very hot. A little linseed-oil and lime-water would be good; but thee knows best." "I will see to it, Uriah," said his spouse. Leaving Mrs. Sneckman to attend to Bridget, we shall go with Uriah and Tip. The latter was radiant from the effect of his ablution, and, duly attired with a white apron, and in his clean shirt-sleeves, was busied with culinary cares. "I do not wish to be in thy way, Timothy," said Uriah, seating himself on a chair in the kitchen; ,but thee has already told me so much about thy people in Virginia that I am curious to know more." "You's not in my way, Mast'r Sneckum," Tip began. "Timothy, I must interrupt thee in the outset. I do not wish thee to call me master. Besides, my name is not Sneckum, but Sneckman. My Christian name is Uriah, as I have already told thee repeatedly. Thee will oblige by remembering," said Uriah, kindly. "Dat bothers me jes' the wors' kind!" said Tip. '"I always talked to my dear ole Massa Lawrence same as I talks to you, and I can't learn no oder way. And why should I? Isn't Tip yourservant, you nor I ahg" R 22*- page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "My name is not you nor I ah, but Uriah," said his friend, smiling at Tip's embarrassed look. "'Xcuse me, mast'r. Dar it is agin! Well, but I was jes' axin, isn't Tip your servant?" "Yes, Timothy," replied Uriah. "Den isn't you Tip's mast'r?" inquired Tip. "The Scripture saith, Timothy, 'Call no man master; for one is. your Master, even Christ,'" was Uriah's reply. "Jes' so, Mast'r Sneckum; but doesn't it say too, 'Servants, obey your masters'?" "Truly," replied Uriah. "Well," resumed Tip. "Now, Massa Urire, de way dey splained dat to me in de Sunday-school was dis:-- When de Lord says, Call no man mast'r, he used de word mast'r same as head-teacher. Miss Jeannie used to tell us de fust language in which de New Testament was written was Creek." "Greek, thee means, Timothy," said Uriah. "Of coas, Mast'r Sneckum. I doesn't understan' any oder way of talkin' 'ceptin' what we's used to in Ole Yirginny; but dat's de way dey splained dat tex'," said Tip. "Well, Timothy, I shall have to let thee take thine own way, I see plainly," said Uriah, smiling. "I's obleeged-a thousand times obleeged to you, for de privilege, Massa Sneckurfi,--I is so," said Tip; "for I's mighty forgitful when I tries to larn new ways." "Let that pass, Timothy. I understood thee to say that thee has never known a single case in which any one of the hundred slaves held in bondage by thy former friend was maltreated," said Uriah. I'Dat's true as Dr. Haddon's preachin'," replied Tip. :And he gave thee thy liberty, Timothy, freely, did he?" said Uriah, looking earnestly at Tip. "Mast'r Sneckum, not only dat; he wouldn't let me WHTE OAK FARM. 259 stay at White Oak, though I tried hard and begged him to 'low me to be his sarvant," replied Tip. "That is strange. Why then did he not dismiss all thy people with thee?" said Uriah. "]Now, Mast'r Sneckum, de fac' is jes' so: you couldn't git a soul of 'em to leave Massa Lawrence; dey would a'most die afore dey'd do it," said Tip. "Why then didst thou leave him?" inquired Uriah. Tip was cornered; and, although he felt as though he was revealing his own disgrace, yet he came up to the- ordeal with the manliness cf truth, and gave his friend Uriah the story with which the reader is already familiar. "There is one favor I would ask of you, Mast'r Sneckum, and dat is to write a letter for me to Colonel Lawrence and tell him dat I's stayin' wid you, and dat I's as happy as I expec' to be anywhars away from hum, but dat when my time ob probation is up I's gwine to make my way back to, de ole plantation, if de Lord spares life and health " "Thee may change thy mind, Timothy, long before the six months are past," said Uriah. "I believe thee can be as happy here as in Virginia. And yet, I doubt not, the home thou hast left was a good one. ' I should like to see thy master, though he is a military man, I presume, from his title of colonel." "Oh, Mast'r Sneckum," exclaimed Tip, "do go see Colonel Lawrence! If he don' treat you well, den neber b'lieve Tip anoder word he says! Why, Massa Urire it would jes' do you good to see de hosses, and cows, and sheep, we's got down dar: it would so! I used to help take keer of de hosses with Jim, jes' kase I liked it; but my place was mo' about de house, waitin' on company. - But you go dar, and den say when you gits back what you thinks ob Miss Jeannie? dat is, she used to be Miss Jeannie, but now she's Mistis Clarence. Den T page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, dar is Mast'r Clarence, what married Miss Jeannie, and de boys, as we calls 'em, though dey's great tall men, -Andy and Saundy; but dey's for all de worl' jes' like ole Massa Lawrence, 'ceptin' dat dey's full of fun, though de ole gemman has a good bit of dat in him too; but dey is all on 'em jes' as kind to de culled folks as if dey was related to 'em. Fact! Dat's so, Mast'r Sneckum." "1 believe thee, Timothy, and it rejoices my heart to hear thee say all this; and yet I would advise thee to do as the Apostle Paul says:-- If thou mayest be free, use it rather.' There are many contingencies that might greatly change the condition of thy friends at White Oak," said Uriah. "I don' know- nuffin about de 'tingencies, Mast'r Sneckum;--neber seed any 'bout dar, and don' know what dey is," replied Tip; "but dar's jes' one thing I'd like to know 'bout what de 'postle says:--' If thou mayest be firee, use it rather.' I knows dat tex: I's heard Uncle Basil read it to us afore now. But I wants to know wed- der de people de 'postle said dat to was brack or white, Mast'r Sneckum. He says, 'Art thou called, bein' a servant? care not for it/ afore he says de oder about bein' free." "What difference does it make whether they were black or white, Timothy? The advice is the same," replied Uriah. "Well, mast'r, I doesn't want to be 'sumptuous," con- tinued Tip. "You knpws mo' about de Bible nor I does, and it may be jes' as you say; but 'pears to me a culled pusson, when he's got a good mast'r, is a heap better off dan most of de free culled pussons 'bout yer. Now, if dey was white, and could jes' stan' on de same footin' ob 'quality wid deir white bredren and sistern, I say too p'rhaps you better off to take yer freedom when you kin git it; or if you's got a hard mast'r, dat's cruel, den WHTE OAK rFARM. 261 I's for freedom agin; but, I tell you de trufe, Massa Sneckum, de culled folks is mo' respected and treated mo' like gemmen and ladies-dar's mo' 'sideration of deir feelin's-whar I cums from, dan der is in dis town. Fact! Dat's so! All de time I was at White Oak-and dat's 'most twenty year-I was neber called nigga by a white man; but I hadn't ben a week in Philadelphy afore a white gemman, dat ort to hab knowed better, called me nigga.". "He did very wrong, Timothy,--very," said Uriah. "I am grieved that he did so." "Don' make no difference to me, Mast'r Sneckum. I is jes', as de good Lord made me, and I can't be no oder, and rs satisfied to be so. HE won't turn me out of heaven kase I'm black, and He won't call me hard names on de great day if I has de blessed Master dat died for us as my Friend; and dat's some comfort," said Tip. "Timothy," said Uriah, extending his hand to the negro, whilst the tears stood in his eyes, "I honor thee. I think well of the friend whose servant thou hast been, and I will do as thou hast requested. He shall hear from me, and I will tell him where 4thou art." "I's obleeged to you, Mast'r Urire, from de lowest depfs of my pore heart," said Tip. "And you kin say to Mast'r Lawrence dat I is as happy yer as I b'lieve I kin be anywhars 'ceptin' at White Oak,-kase I's kindly treated; and you kin give my love to ole mast'r and de boys, and to Mast'r Clarence and Mistis Jean- nie, and my best respec's to all de folks down in de quarter." "Timothy, has thee no other ties that bind thee to White Oak, except love to thy master's house and to thy kindred in Virginia?" inquired Uriah. t"Neber was tied dar, nor nowhar else, in all my life!" replied Tip, with great earnestness. page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, 1' Thee does not understand me, Timothy," said Uriah, smiling. "Is there no colored damsel there who What am dat, Massa Sneckum?" inquired Tip. "A maiden, or a girl, Timothy, to whom thee is at- tached, I mean," said Uriah. "Oh, a gal! Dat's what you mean, Massa Sneckum," replied Tip. "No; I isn't married to no gal!" There was a mischievous smile lurking about Tip's mouth; for he had all along understood Uriah's ques- tion, but he preferred keeping his own counsel. The inquiry was not one of idle curiosity, but was put by Uriah in order to ascertain whether a stronger passion was not at the foundation of the matter. "Thee is not married, I know," replied Uriah, re- turning to the charge; "but perhaps thee has a prospect of being--" "De prospec' don't neber trouble dis chile," replied Tip, who began to baste a mutton-chop with great energy. "Dis is good muttin, Massa Sneckum; but we has meat in Ole irginny dat's a heap better. Look a-dar, now 1 d'at'll be so tender, Mistis Sneckum can 'most eat bones and all, if dey's well buttered!" "Well, well, Timothy, thee can go on with thy pre- paration for dinner, and I will not disturb thee," said Uriah, whose face was red with suppressed laughter. "Oh, you's not 'sturbin' ob me at all," replied Tip. "I kin talk and work at de same time; and I'd jes' as lief you'd stay and let me talk to you about Ole Virginny, kase it does me a heap of good. .I's a kind o' lonesome, Massa Urire, and I's obleeged to you fer talkin' wid me, -I is so! Fact!" "I'll go and write that letter, Timothy, and in an hour or so, if thee is not too busy, I'll read it to thee," said Uriah. "So, meanwhile, farewell!" "Good-by to you, Massa Sneckum! If Mistis Blidgit wants any thing, let me know," said Tip. "I shall WHTE OAK -FARM. 263 count de minits till you cums wid dat letter." And Tip began to sing, as he busied himself with the preparation of the dinner:- "I's boun' for Ole Virginny, oh! Dat's so! dat's so! My ole massa tole me to: Dat's so! dat's so! Now, Massa .Sneckum axed me 'bout de gals. I warn't gwine to tell-him dat Bess wouldn't hab me when I 'posed. No indeedy! Dar's no use in dat. Den, nex' t'ing, he tell mistis, and dey laugh at Tip. No, I ha'n't got no gal at White Oak,-nor nowhar's else; but I 'xpect, when I gits back, to put on some state. I jes' want to hear what de boys 'll say when Tip gits back. 'Yah, yah, boys,' says Tip, 'you go 'long; you don' know nuffin. You ha'n't seen nuffin ob de wor'. You don' know what liberty is in de free States ob dis great 'federacy. But I's a man ob 'sperience,-I is, Ole Boss; if you wants any thing from me, you don' git it widout you larns to be a heap mo' civil,-though you's a good ole soul; only you's allers so stuck up 'bout mast'r's confidence.' "I's boun' for Ole Virginny, oh! Dat's so! dat's so! Won't the gals look at me, though? Dat's so! dat's so!" Tip was in high glee. He ran on in a strain of dog- gerel improvising, and, in the absence of better company, conversed earnestly with himself, giving his experience since he had found, employment with the good Uriah, and bustling around the kitchen in the prosecution of his extemporaneous vocation as Bridget's vicar. He was extremely anxious to hear the letter read which was to assure his friends at White Oak of his loyal remem- brance; and several times he opened 'the-door leading page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 TIIE OLIVE-BRANCH; OBR, to the dining-room, to listen for the measured step of his kind benefactor. "No;, Massa Sneckum isn't ready wid dat letter yit. I's not gwine to forgit him, nuther. He's a good man. Dat's so! I knows all 'bout him. Ebery mornin' ob his life he's dar in dat little room,- and I's seen him wid his Bible afore him! I's watched him, when he didn't know dis chile was about. Den he's jes' as simple and as straightforrard as my ole Mast'r Lawrence. "Massa Sneckum's a very good man; Dat's so! dat's so! He do de best for Tip he can; Dat's so! dat's so! Takes me to meetin' wid him. De folks dar all treats me respec'ful. But dey don' sing none. Dey says some good things, though, and I can git some good from 'em; but I isn't used to dat way. Den, I's got no company:- "So carry me back, oh, carry me back To Ole Virginia-to Ole Virginia shore!" As Tip was singing this refrain of the well-known melody, he opened the door again to listen for Uriah's return, and started back with a suppressed "Golly!" as his face was fairly thrust into Uriah's. "Well, Timothy, thee seems to be merry," said Uriah, with a good-humored smile. "Yah! he! he! I was jes' lookin' for you, mast'r," said Tip. "And thee found me nearer than thee thought," re- plied Uriah, laughing. "Did so! Fact! He! he!" said Tip. "I have written a letter to thy friend, and I'll read it for thee," said Uriah. Tip was all attention, and Uriah read as follows:-- WHTE OAK FARM. 265 "PHILADELPHIA, 11th month, 25th, 18-. "ESTEEMED FRIEND:--At the request of Timothy, whom thou hast discharged from bondage, I write to inform thee that he is in good health, and that his heart is still with thee and thy household, and the people whom he has left on thy plantation. I have given him employment at fair wages, and find him a sober, honest, and industrious man, well skilled in many things which render him a useful and valuable help. He has spoken so much of thee and of thy kindness to him and to his people, who are generally so grievously oppressed, that I have learned, though a stranger, to, regard thee with great respect. Timothy intends to return VQ soon as his time of probation is ended; but I tell thee frankly, I shall en- deavor to induce him to use the liberty he now enjoys, in pre- ference to a return to bondage, however light thy yoke may be. This I say, friend, without any intention to offend thee, believing that it is better for Timothy that he should be free. He desires me to assure thee and thine of his constant love and gratitude, and to remember him to all his people. With kind regards, I am thy friend, - URIAH SNECKXMN. b ALEXANDER LAWRENCE." "Thank you, AMassa Sneckum!-a thousand times!" exclaimed Tip. "You may say, too, dat I's much 'tached to yerself and Mistis Sneckum." 'I will leave that for thee to say when it suits thee, Timothy," said Uriah, smiling; "and whilst thou art busy here I will attend to despatching this letter." "Massa Sneckum," said Tip, "I wants to ax you a queshun afore you go, and it's jes' dis yer:--Is all de white servants like Mistis Blidgit?" ' Surely not!" replied Uriah, earnestly. "Thee would be doing great injustice to them to suppose any such thing.. No, Timothy; there are thousands of them who are faithful, hard-working, sober, honest people; 23 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 266 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, and I am sorry that Bridget proves to be of a different order. When thee goes back to White Oak I would not have thee bring an evil report concerning an entire class of people on account of what thee has seen in this one case." "Well, massa, I isn't gwine to do dat," replied Tip. "What made thee ask that question?" inquired Uriah. "Nuffin much," said Tip; "only I's heard some ob yer friends talkin' wid you 'bout what dey had seen in de Souf; and I jes' come to dis 'elusion:-dat you'll find bad masters and bad servants among de free people as well as 'mong dem whar dey isn't free." Uriah paused a moment, and then said, quietly,- "Timothy, thy conclusion is correct." Friend Uriah and Mrs. Priscilla agreed, as they dis- cussed the dinner which Tip had prepared, that it was by far the best they had enjoyed for a long time, and they united in a cordial approbation of the skill and cheerful faithfulness of Timothy. It was marvellous to them that he should persist in preferring to return to White Oak; but Uriah hoped he might yet be brought to see the error of his way, and to abide in the enjoy- ment of freedom. W'HTE OAK FARM. 267 CTTA PTEl XXTT. COLONEL LAWRENCE was proceeding to Rescue Glade to pay his usual morning visit to his children, when Jim -who had been despatched to the post-office-put into his hand a letter from Philadelphia. Many an anxious inquiry had been made by Jim and others respecting their comrade, but the colonel had hitherto not been prepared to answer them. After glancing at the post- mark, he said,- ^ "Wait a minute, Jim; I think it likely this brings some word about our friend Tip." "Does you think so, Mast'r Lawrence?" said Jim, his face shining with eager curiosity. The colonel broke the seal and read Uriah's letter, whilst Jim held the bridle which his master had care- lessly dropped on Roan's neck, watching intently the expression of the colonel's features during the process of its perusal. "There's as honest a soul for ye as ye'll find any- where out o' Auld Virginia!" exclaimed the colonel. 'Any t'ing 'bout Tip, massa?". inquired Jim. "Yes; Tip has found a very kind master in Philadel- phia, and this letter is from him," replied the colonel. "Is he gwine to stay dar?" inquired Jim, with a tone of disappointment. "His master says if he can keep him he means to do it, Jim,' replied Colonel Lawrence. "And what does Tip say, massa?" said Jim. "Tip says he is coming back at the end of six months," replied the colonel. page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "I knowed it! I knowed it!" exclaimed Jim. iFree cheers for Tip! I allers said he'd be back agin." "He is not back yet, though," replied the colonel; "and you had better save your three cheers till you see him." "I tell you, mast'r, if Tip lives and you live, you'll see him yer de very day his time's up. Dat's what he tole me de very last words he said at de gate dar when: he went off wid Mast'r Donald, and de pore feller cried all de night afore he left, and set me to cryin' too. He didn't sleep a wink. I knowed he'd cum back hum!" said Jim. "Aweel, Jim, we'll see, as you say, if we live," re- plied the colonel, as he quietly folded up the letter and put it in his pocket. "So now, good-morning: I must go over and see Jeannie and Arthur." If you'll 'low me to walk wid you part ob de way, mast'r," said Jim, "I shall be 'bleeged to you. I wants to axs a great favor, massa." "Certainly, Jim," said the colonel; "I will wait." "IKo, massa, if you please, I doesn't want nobody 'bout yer; 't'a'n't nobody's bisness but jes' yours and mine; and I'll go 'long wid you a little ways, if you has no objection," said Jim. "Very well, Jim," said the colonel, smiling at Jim's caution. They were slowly going through the woods, when Jim broached the subject which lay near his heart. "I wants to know, massa, if you'll 'low me to git married?"And the words came out from Jim's throat with a rapidity which indicated a strong internal pro- pelling-power. "Married, Jim, is it?" said the colonel. "To whom?" 'Of coas to Bess," replied Jim. "Will Bess have you, mon? Are you sure of that?" inquired the colonel, laughing. WHlITE OAK PARM. 269 "Of coas she will," replied Jim. "Have you asked her 'consent?" said the colonel. "Not jes' in so many words, but it's all de same, mast'r; you see I's ben payin' my 'tentions and respec's to her dis long time, and she knows my feelin's is serious," said Jim. "'There's mony a slip between the cup and the lip,' mon," replied the colonel, laughing; " but ye may be all right in that matter, for a' that. If ye have Bessie's consent ye have mine, Jim; but ye'd -better get hers first, and then ye should ask her mother, Aunt Nancy, too." "Thank you, mast'r; I wish I was as sure of every thing as I is of dat," said Jim, his face indicating good- humor and satisfaction. "Now, I'll jes' bid you a good- mornin', mast'r, and go over and settle dat matter wid Bess." "Ye'd better, Jim, afore ye go any further," replied the colonel, nodding familiarly to his servant, as he urged Roan to greater speed and left Jim to make his way over to the quarter. A short cut through the woods and over the fields soon brought the negro to the house, where his true love was busied in whitewashing a room for Aunt Nancy. Her mother had been seized that morning with a violent fit of house-cleaning, and nothing would do but to go right at it. "Good-mornin', Bessie and Aunt Nancy!" said Jim, as he thrust his head in at the front-door of the cabin. "You's hard at it, I see. Like to see folks busy,-does so!"' "Den you'd better go and be busy yerself, I's a-think- in'," replied Bess. 'Dis a'n't no time to be a-makin' calls, nohow, when a body's all speckled wid white- wash! I don' like it." "Dat's nuffin," replied Jim. "Does you 'magine, Miss 23* page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 270 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Bessie, dat true love-de 'fection dat 'sides in de heart- can be squenched by whitewash?" "Now, you go 'long, Jim, wid yer' nonsense!" ex- claimed Bessie, as she dipped the whitewash-brush in the bucket and proceeded to apply the liquid to the wall. ".3liss Bessie, I's cum wid a serious puppos to see you dis mornin': I is so!" said Jim, as he entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. "Very well," replied Bess, with a degree of agitation which she found it difficult to suppress. "You's got no bisniss to cum yer when we's a-whitewashin'; and so, Mist'r Jim, you jes' take dat and go 'long wid yer out ob dis 'partment." And, suiting the action to the word, she sprinkled the lime from her brush, by a dexterous jerk, and spattered the face of her disconcerted lover, who made a hasty retreat, laughing good-humoredly at a repulse which by no means disheartened him. "Now, Bess," said her mother, "you ort not to treat Jim in dat way. You's ben a-spilin' his good clothes." "No bisness to come when we's whitewashin', wid his nonsense!" said Bess. "But he told you his feelin's was serious, chile, and I's sure, from de way he looked, dat he was in earnest; and you ortn't to dash de whitenin' on him," said Nancy. "Den he's got to come some oder time," said Bess. "He said his feelin's couldn't be squenched wid white- wash, and now we'll jes' see wedder he speaks de trufe or not. Dat's all." The colonel found Arthur and Jeannie in the library of their new home. It was almost the fac-simile of the room at White Oak. After the usual greetings, the con- versation turned upon Uriah's letter, which Arthur read aloud. "What do you intend to say in answer, sir?" inquired Arthur. WHTE OAK FARM. 271 "Hand me the paper and pen," said the old gentle- man, "and I will tell you. I am delighted with friend Uriah, and I mean to send him a cordial invitation to come and see us." ' The very thing, father," said Jeannie. "He will make quite a sensation. I want to see him and Tip-or Timothy, as he calls him-together." "If Tip's resolution holds out, as I begin to think it will, we shall probably be able to prevail on our new acquaintance to accompany him." "Well, I will urge him to come, at any rate,'? replied Colonel Lawrence. "I wish to promote the best inte- rests of our servants; and I can say with a clear con- science, if they will be, happier, and if it can be shown, by fair experiment, that their best interests can be pro- moted by sending them to a free State, I am ready to give them their freedom. , As for the pecuniary stake, I shall be a gainer by the transaction. Look here, Arthur, at Donald's return of the last year's expenditure," said the colonel, laughing, and taking from his side-pocket a roll of foolscap. "Look over it at your leisure, and try if you can do better at Rescue Glade. Every soul of them, big and little, has cost me, on an average, over one hundred dollars. And yet the place has paid for itself, I do not deny, and leaves some surplus to do good with." "Well, that is all you want, father," said Jeannie. I am sure, if we do as well we won't complain." !"All true, Jeannie; but reflect a bit," said the colonel. ' There are over ten thousand dollars expended for labor. Suppose I had hired my help instead of owning it: I should have been the gainer by three-fourths of that sum. Not that I regret it. ,No; I have made over a hundred people as comfortable as they can wish to be, and have endeavored to guard their morals and to secure for them the benefits of Christian instruction; and I could not page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, have spent the money to better purpose. But I must write to Uriah." In a few moments the colonel had prepared his reply, in the following terms:-- "RESCUE GLADE, Nov. 28, 18-. "RESPECTED FRIEND:-Many thanks for your kind letter. We are all greatly indebted for the interest you take in Tip. We hope he will please you still more on further acquaintance, and we wish him to feel at perfect liberty to consult his own interest and happiness in the decision he may make. Your letter, taken in connection with your kindness to Tip, is suffi- cient evidence that you are a friend of the people and of the class to which he belongs; and we shall be most happy to afford you any opportunity to promote their welfare that may be in our power. I am requested by my children to assure you that it will give them pleasure to see you at White Oak, and I can say with truth that a visit from you would be most agreeable to myself. "With kind regards, "I am yours truly "AITFXANDER LAWRENCE, "URTAH SNECKMAN." "That will do," said Arthur, as he read the letter which the colonel handed him; "don't you think so, Jeannie?" Jeannie threw her eye over the page, and suggested a slight addition as a postscript. "What is that, Jeannie?" inquired the colonel. "Only a single line, sir," replied Jeannie. Remem- ber us kindly to Tip." "That's right, darling!" said the old gentleman; and, adjusting his spectacles, he added the postscript. "Now will it suit ye, my wee critic?" said he. "Couldn't be better," said Jeannie, as she fondly kissed the old man's forehead. WHTE OAK FARM. 273 ' I am looking for Judge Woodhull and Dr. Stanley. They have promised to be here this morning, on some church-business; and, as you are here, we shall have a full meeting of our Board of Trustees, with the excep- tion of Mr. Holmar, who tells me he cannot be present, but has given me his written opinion on the matter." "They are coming now," said Jeannie, who was look- ing out upon the lawn. On turning towards her father, she was startled at observing the extreme pallor which overspread- his countenance. Arthur noticed it at the same instant, and both ran to his support. Arthur hastily pressed the handle of a bell, and the call was instantly answered by Tacey and her son. All were in great trepidation, for the colonel was evidently alarm- ingly ill. Tom ran out to hasten Dr. Stanley's arrival: the physician was promptly at the side of his friend, and the restoratives which were applied soon relieved the more urgent symptoms of distress. As he lay upon the sofa, -Jeannie bathed his temples, whilst the tears streamed down her cheeks. The old gentleman endeavored to reassure her:- "It's nothing, darling, but just an attack Of that old distress that I have had for the last year, at times; only this has been somewhat more severe. But I'm better now, Jeannie; so dinna fret," said he, holding her hand. Dr. Stanley's face wore a somewhat anxious look, not- withstanding his manifest desire to appear composed. But, in answer to Arthur's inquiry, he assured him that the colonel was in no immediate danger from the attack. "His pulse," said the doctor, "has reacted, and he is all right now; but you will have to watch him very care- fully." The last words were spoken aside to Arthur, after they had withdrawn into a recess near the window. The friends passed into another room, and, in answer to Arthur's inquiries, Dr. Stanley at once expressed his f: page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 274 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, conviction, based upon former observation of the symp- toms, that they resulted from an affection of the heart, --probably atrophy. "The disease is beyond the reach of cure, Arthur," said the doctor, "'but not of palliation. He must be kept quiet, and he must not be left alone." "Then he must live henceforth with us," said Arthur, his voice quivering with emotion. "Dear old man! I shall be afraid to lose sight of him for an hour. I am glad Saundy has made up his mind to leave Georgia. He left a few days ago to make his arrangements for that purpose." 'tHe could not have a more skilful attendant than Dr. Lawrence," replied Dr. Stanley; "and if you can ma- nage so as to have Saundy stay with him, I shall feel greatly relieved of my anxiety on his account. We have spoken about the case frequently, and we agree in our diagnosis." Judge Woodhull now joined the party, and expressed his deep concern and sympathy. "We cannot afford to lose Colonel Lawrence," said the judge. ' I hope we are not going to lose him very soon," re- plied Dr. Stanley. "He may live many years, and survive every one of us." "True, he may; but that is not probable. We must leave that with God," said Judge Woodhull, thought- fully. "But what is the matter yonder? Look out there, Arthur," continued his friend, pointing to a throng of negroes, men, women, and children, who came running from every direction, alarm and distress de- picted on every countenance. Arthur hurried out of the house to meet them. The first whom he encountered was old Basil, who, with clasped hands, stood before him and faltered out the in- quiry,- "Oh, my dear ole mast'r! Is it true?" WHTE OAK FARM. '275 "Colonel Lawrence is better,--almost quite well again!" replied Arthur,- smiling cheerfully. "Now, may de good Lord be praised!" exclaimed the old negro, bursting into tears. "Word came dat he was a-dyin', and de pore souls is all a-runnin' over to you, XIast'r Arthur, like sheep dat's lost deir' shepherd." Arthur was deeply affected; but, rallying after a momentary struggle, he requested Basil to attend to the servants and to charge them to be quiet, as the colonel required rest. "Oh, Mast'r Clarence, jes' look at Andy! Hi! but Red Jacket goes as ef he had wings!" ' Andy rides as if he was beside himself," said Arthur. "Poor fellow! no doubt he has heard-the rumor. I will go and meet him." And, vaulting upon Roan's back, Arthur crossed towards the point atwhich he knew Andy would emerge from the road leading to the plantation. The house commanded a view of the entire carriage- way to White Oak. The old homestead stood out in bold relief, and the denuded trees, stripped of their foliage, allowed a full view of the mansion and out- buildings. That road was dotted over the entire dis- tance with groups, who were running from the quarter at White Oak, and the cries of men and women were borne upon the air and fell in a confused tumult of sor- row and alarm upon the ear of the old negro, as he hurried towards the thronging crowd. At the gate he met a group of his fellow-servants, alarm depicted on their countenances. "'T'a'n't so bad, boys," said the old man. "Bless de Lord for dat! Ole mast'r's not gwine to die jes' yet. He's had a bad spell, though, and de doctor says he don' want no fuss. So we'll go hum, and we'll pray for de best, and den hope for it. Come on, and let's go back to de corn-huskin'." Without further parley, Basil led the way back to the page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR,. quarter; and as Andy and Arthur met them, walking their horses and conversing earnestly, the whole band took off their hats and gave vent to their emotion with a round of cheers, which contrasted strangely with the tear-stained visages of the rejoicing negroes. The young men bowed, and passed on in silence until they had entered the gate leading to the Glade. "Arthur," said Andy, "the love which these poor people have shown to that dear old man makes them part of ourselves. Their happiness and ours are one." "Living and dying, one," repeated Arthur, with strong emotion. As they came near the house, they were met by Jacob, who had left a party in the fields busily engaged in har- vesting the corn. Jacob was beginning, under the new rdgime which had been introduced since the place had' passed into other hands, to develop traits of character which augured well; and in proportion as he earned Arthur's confidence he enjoyed it. He had already formed a strong attachment to his master. The first impression which had been made upon his fellow-ser- vants was one which Arthur had found it necessary to correct. They were evidently disposed to take advantage of their master's kindness; but a little experience con- vinced them that he was the last man in the world to be imposed upon, and they were beginning to learn that their own interest was identified with his. There were restless spirits among them. Abe was one of a number of dissatisfied men who belonged to a neighboring plan- tation, and who were constantly carrying on secret intrigues, to the great annoyance of their masters. The quiet, unostentatious kindness of Arthur, with his well- known character for firmness and intrepid courage, com- bined with the gentle influence of Jeannie, had already wrought wonders. The example of the hands at White Oak was also making itself felt, and the idea began to WHTE OAK FARM. 2" prevail, that the surest way for the attainment of that freedom which was regarded by many of them as the greatest object of desire was to prove themselves wor- thy of it by sobriety, honesty, and industry. James McAlvan, with his family, had taken up his residence at Rescue Glade, and occupied a convenient house which Arthur had fitted up for him. Both he and Donald were devoted to the colonel's interests. They had followed him from Scotland. Their father had been in his em- ploy; and at his death the boys left' their native land and attached themselves to their father's friend in the new country to which he had emigrated. "I jes' cum over from de fiel', mast'r, to know if dar's any t'ing for Jacob to do 'bout de house. We's heerd Mast'r Lawrence ben very sick; but Aunt Tacey says he's better," said the negro-: "and I's glad to hear it." "Perhaps you had better look after the corn, Jacob/" replied his master; "but first take care of the horses." "Yes, massa," replied Jacob; 'I'll 'tend to 'em, sure!" The matter to which Arthur had made allusion, just before the sudden illness of Colonel Lawrence, was ad- justed with summary despatch. A letter was before the trustees of the church of which Dr. Haddon was the pastor, making application for a pew, which the writer had understood to be vacant, and enclosing five hundred dollars as purchase-money. The applicant was a noto- rious slave-dealer, whose transactions, though sanctioned by the letter of the laws of Virginia, were nevertheless reprobated by every Christian and by every gentleman in the entire community. Charles Rushton, the person in question, had amassed a considerable fortune in the prosecution of this business; but he found it absolutely impossible to gain an introduction into the society in which he was anxious to be received. He was shunned, with marks of undisguised contempt, on every side; and 24 page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, he had adopted, as a last expedient, the idea of seeking admission into the church as a pew-holder. On motion of Judge Woodhull, the money was returned to Mr. Rushton, with a curt intimation that they de- clined selling the pew, and the resolution of the Board respecting his application was also forwarded to him. Arthur despatched James McAlvan '.' Mr. Rushton's house,-a distance of some three or four miles,-directing him to bring a memorandum or receipt in some form, as an acknowledgment of the return of the money. James proceeded forthwith on his errand, ignorant of the nature of the transaction, but aware that it involved a declinature on the part of Arthur of some proposition of Rushton's. From the character of the trader he in- ferred that he had probably made somhe overture for the purchase of a slave, and James felt indignant at the mpan's assurance. Mounted on a powerful sorrel, with a short, horse- man's cloak around him, James pushed on to Rushton's. "The miserable creatur'!" said he, as he leisurely pursued his way. "Does he think he can drive his in- fernal trade wi' Christian folk? It's weel for him that he didna come as bould as Maister Scrub, or he'd ha' found a flea in his lug, maybe." Before he had proceeded more than half-way to the house he was met by Rushton, who had found a good pretext, as he supposed, for calling over to see his neighbor Clarence. "'Maister Rushton, I'm thinkin' said James, as they met. Rushton nodded, more than spoke, his reply. "I was on my way till yer hoose, maister," continued James, deliberately drawing out a large pocket-book from the bosom of his coat. "'Maister Clarence allowed me to lave this letter wi' ye; and, as it houlds money, I'll tak' a bit maymorandum for it, if it plase ye." WHTE OAK FARM. 279 Rushton fairly hissed through his teeth with rage, as he replied,--- 'Hand me the money, sir!" "Nae doot, Maister Rushton, it's your ain accoordin' to law, and I'm sent to gev it into yer hand; but I'll be obleeged for the bit maymorandum," replied James, with the utmost-.calmness. Rushtog was beside himself with rage, and, in a voice which was keyed to its highest pitch, he rather screamed than replied,- "Do you think I want to cheat your cursed employer, that you demand your maymorandum? you impudent Scotch vagabond! I'm more than* half-disposed to thrash you within an inch of your life!" "As lang as ,//'re only haulf inclined that way, Im in nae soort o' consarn," quietly replied James. "And if ye should, by any misfortune, git wholly inclined to try that same, maister, ye'll maybe find the haulf o' the job mair nor a day's walk." With a horrid imprecation,- Rushton. drew off, and aimed a heavy blow with his riding-whip at the Scotch- man's head; but James pushed his horse close against his opponent's stirrup, and caught his assailant's wrist with a grip which wrenched his hand open, and the whip dropped by the roadside. Still retaining the same imperturbable coolness, James accosted his discomfited opponent, whose wrist was held as tightly as if it had been screwed in a vice, and, quietly looking into his face, he said,- "Noo, Maister Rushton, if ye're willin' to attend to the bit bisness we were discoorsin' aboot, yer money's ready for ye, mon! but ye maun l'arn manners, mon: ye shudna ca' hard names; ye shudna feel mair nor haulf disposed to thrash yer neebor that comes on an honest arrand to gi'e ye yer siller." ' Let go of my hand, you villain!" roared Rushton, page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, tugging to release it. "Let go, or I'll shoot you, you Scotch scoundrel! Let go! Do you hear me?" "I hear ye,-av coorse I do, mon," replied James; "but as for shootin', maister, dinna ye try the likes o' that; for, d'ye see, I've a loose hand as weel 's yersel', and it's convenient to the tools ye're alludin' to, and that is what yer ain is not;" and James quietly laid his left hand upon the butt of a six-shooter. -"But I dinna want to hurt ye, mon. Ye'll ha'e to pit my life in bigger peril nor it's ben in the day afore I shall trouble this bit iron to help me." "Let go, you rascal!"Rushton screamed. "If it's mysel' yer alludin' to, my name is Jeames McAlvan," replied James, tightening his grasp; "and if ye expect to git loose the day, maister, it'll be on twa conditions:-Ye'll be guid enough to drap the titles ye're givin' me, and ye'll gev up yer pestols for safe- keepin' till yer fire and fury has had time to get cule." "How now, James! what on earth is the matter?i' said a gentleman, who, unobserved by either of the com- batants, had approached within a few paces. "Gvid-mornin' to yer honor, Captain Barber," replied James; "and how is yersel' the day?" 'Whoever you are, sir," exclaimed Rushton, "I call on you to make this infernal Scotchman let go of my wrist!" "It's Captain Barber, Maister Rushton; and this is Maister Rushton, captain," said James, going through the form of an introduction with the utmost gravity, whilst his hand continued to grasp the wrist of his assailant with an occasional grinding motion whenever Rushton made a fresh effort to disengage himself. The captain could with difficulty compose his fea- tures :--"Really, James, this is a queer posture of affairs, and I would like to have some explanation." "Aweel, that's reasonable," replied James, clearing WHTE OAK FARM. 281 his throat with a long-drawn preparatory ahem. FrYe obsairve, captain " "Don't listen to the canting villain, but shoot him down, sir!" exclaimed Rushton. "Na, na, maister. The captain and mysel' is auld ac- quaintance, and he's no' the man to shoot a friend at the biddin' o' the likes o' ye, maister," replied James. "e obsairve, captain, VMaister Clarence sent me wi' a sum o' money, to the amount of five hundred dollars, to hand over to Maister Rushton and tak' a bit receipt or the like for the same; and here I met the maister, and telled him my arrand, and wi' that he ca'ed me an im- pudent Scotch vagabond, and invited me to tak' a thrash- ing, which you obsairve I'm no' ready for at this present: and that's what all this fash-ma-claver is aboot! Noo, captain, will ye tak' this money and count it, and then hand it over to Maister Rushton? and that will be all the maymorandum I want." "Certainly, James, I'll do that for you," replied Cap- tain Barber, taking the package which was proffered, and deliberately counting the money which it enclosed. "You have exactly five hundred dollars here, sir."' And he extended the notes in the envelop to Mr. Rushton, who took them, observing, as he thrust it into a side- pocket,-- 'You seem to be a friend of this vagabond, sir!" "I am the friend of James McAlvan, sir,' retorted Captain Barber; " and any one who calls my friend a vagabond in my presence stands a chance of the sum- mary chastisement which his vulgarity deserves. But you are safe, sir, at present; and were it not for the for- bearance of this honest Scot, whom I have learned to re- spect before to-day, your insolence would have met with a sterner rebuke than it has yet received." You will hear from me at some other time" said Rushton, significantly. 24:* page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 THE 'OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "Here is my card, sir," replied the captain. "Na, na, captain; I dinna want ony quarrel on my account," said James. "'Maister Rushton, as ye say, has desairved maybe mair nor he's received, but I can reckon wi' him mysel' if it's needfu'. I willna ha'e bluid spilt if I can help it, and I'm minded to send Maister Rushton hame a wee bit mair humble nor he cam' frae it. I'll borrow yer pestol a minnit, Maister Rushton," con- tinued the Scot, plucking a pistol from the holster and instantly discharging it over his head. "Ye'll no hurt yer neebor wi' that bullet, maister; and noo, if ye'll be ceevil," said James, replacing the weapon in its case, "and reca' the names ye've gi'en me, sic as vagabond, villain, and the like o' thae titles, ye can gang hame scot-free; but if ve dinna, I'll ha'e to gi'e ye a lesson ye'll maybe no easy forgit. What d'ye say, maister?" "I say that you are an insolent knave!" screamed Rushton. "That's eneugh!" replied James. And, drawing his horsewhip from the girth in which he had placed it, he flung his cloak from his shoulders, and, alighting with the agility of a cat, he drew Rushton from his horse, and, holding him with one hand, showered a tempest of lashes upon his opponent's back. It was in vain that Rushton writhed, and struggled, and raved: the Scot, with perfect coolness, continued the discipline with ter- rible effect. "Will that do ye, mon?" said James. "Reca' the titles, maister, that dinna belang to me, or'I'll write my name on yer back in large hand." A' Let him go, James," said Captain Barber; " he has had enough for the present." "Aweel, captain, since sich is yer wull, I'll let him aff," said James, as he released his hold of Rushton. "Your life shall pay for this outrage!" said Rushton, his voice quivering with rage. VHaT OAK FARM, 283 (' As for that, maister, if I didna think ye were ain o' that soort o' cur whose bark is waur nor his bite, I'd tak' maisures to keep ye from doin' hairm. But, at ony rate, when ye want Jemmy McAlvan ye'll find him at short notice; and, though I'm no fightin'-man wi' pestols or dirk, I can pule a trigger or handle a sword, maybe, in self-defence, or to do justice to a neebor, if need be, when the law willna help us. And, if yer exparience isna sufficient to mak' ye let me gang my ain gate, ye'll ha'e to gae to schule agin." And, so saying, James mounted his horse, and, quietly doffing his cap, bowed to Rushton, and gravely bade him "the top of the mornin'." "You shall hear from me, sir!" said Rushton. "Aweel, I trust it may be better news than ony rve iver heerd of you afore," said James. "No," said Captain Barber, laughing; "he was speak- ing to me, Jemmy. At your leisure, Mr. Rushton, you know where to find me." Gnashing his teeth with rage, Rushton rode home-. wards. His right hand was powerless, as though it had been paralyzed, and he was altogether unprepared for ony immediate encounter. Pouring curses and impre- nations upon the sturdy Scot, he consigned him and all his countrymen incontinently to a transmundane sphere of misery, and vowed the bitterest revenge upon him and Captain Barber. Meanwhile, James returned in peaceful self-possession to Rescue Gla'de, accompanied by his friend, who burst out into fits of uncontrollable laughter as he recalled the stirring scene we have endeavored to portray. Leaving the captain to make his report, James pro- ceeded to attend to his duties ini overseeing the planta- tion, as though nothing of any special moment had occurred to disturb his equanimity. page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Arthur Clarence heard the story of the rencontre with unconcealed regret. "I am sorry, captain, I am doubly sorry, that you have been entangled in this unfortunate broil," said his friend. "Give yourself no uneasiness on my account, Arthur," said the captain. "If I am to have a quarrel with Rush- ton, it will be of his own seeking; and you know you could not help yourself, if you were to be assailed, in any other way than by defending yourself." "Yes; but, captain, this threatens to involve you in a duel, and duelling is my abhorrence. It is a relic of a barbarous age, and I do not want you to lend it the sanction of your influence," replied Arthur. The captain playfully replied to his friend; and, upon the entrance of the doctor and Judge Woodhull, the con- versation was changed. WH ITE OAK FARM. 285 CKrAPTER XXTTT. THE trial of the prisoners whose arrest is detailed in a preceding chapter had been postponed for prudential reasons until late in the autumn. The evidence which was elicited in the judicial process was sufficient to con- vict them all of the felony alleged against them; but, owing to some technical difficulties, so common in the administration of justice, and which have conferred upon the science of law its reputation of glorious uncertainty, the case of the Commonwealth against the two accom- plices of Hurlow was not made out to the satisfaction of the court, and they were acquitted of the charge of kid- napping. It was understood, however, that they might easily have been convicted of the crime of conspiracy to commit a felony; but the case was not pressed to its legitimate conclusion. Sharp and the younger Scrub left for parts unknown. Facts were evolved, in the course of the trial, which not only convicted Hurlow of the crime for which he was arraigned, but fastened upon him and his accomplice Bowler, who was killed at the time of the arrest, the perpetration of the deliberate murder of a poor colored man. For this he was con- demned to-suffer the extreme penalty of the law.* "It is sometimes asserted that the killing a negro is considered a com- paratively light offence at the South. In Georgia it is much safer to kill a white man than a negro; and if either is done in South Carolina, the law is exceedingly apt to be put in force. In Georgia, I have witnessed a strong purpose among lawyers to prevent the murderer of a negro from escaping justice. There can be no doubt that this disposition is on the in- crease. I was in Columbia, South Carolina, when the Law Court of Ap- peals pronounced sentence of death on two young white men for the murder page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, On a dark day in December, that sentence was exe- cuted in the yard of the jail where the last months of the culprit's life had been spent. It has been said, flippantly enough,--and the flippancy has been repeated as though it were an admirable aphor- isim,-that the worst possible use to which a man can be put is to hang him. A far worse use, in the case of a murderer, is to let him loose upon society, to afford him the opportunity to repeat his atrocious cruelty. Therefore the law of God, both in the statutes of the Old Testament and the New, condemns the murderer to suffer the penalty of of a negro who had driven them from his garden. Murderers of a white man surely could not have been addressed otherwise than thus by the judge:-- "'You must remember with painful emotions the bloody tragedy of that peaceful Sabbath morning in which you were the principal actors. "' With a deadly weapon in your hand, and a fatal purpose in your hearts, you went to Shadrach Johnson's humble dwelling, and, in the presence of his imploring wife and weeping children, committed the foul murder which your wicked hearts had conceived. "I It was in vain that you relied upon the evidence of your companions to excuse or to extenuate your offence. Previous threats, the preparation of a deadly weapon, the intention to commit a trespass upon his property, and the execution of your fatal purpose, authorized the jury to say that you are guilty. "'We are prepared to see levity and indiscretion in youth; but great crimes like this are generally the result of evil passions long indulged, and of temptations unresisted. "' If in the morning of life you have become habitually reckless by fre- quent transgression, ypu must have lived without that moral training which impresses virtuous lessons on the youthful heart,-without that religious instruction which teaches God's commandment, "Thou shalt do no murder," and that if you keep not this law you shall surely die. "'TYou may flatter yourselves with the hope of a pardon. I am not authorized to say how far the Governor may be induced to " temper justice with mercy;" but if this last hope shall fail you, you will be left to "a fate more fearful than the death of the body." For such an event, and for such a fate, I would admonish you to prepare."--"Three Months at the South." By Nehemiah Adams, D D., pp. 38, 39. WHTE OAK FARM. 287 death, and the laws of all Christian states enforce that penalty. Jack Hurlow was hung. Maintaining his ,turdy hardihood up to the fatal hour, his fortitude forsook him only when he came in view of the gallows. The coun- sels and entreaties of Christian friends were spurned, until it was too late to profit by them, and the murderer died and made no sign. Whilst the stern retribution of outraged law was claiming its victim, another scene was enacted only a few miles from the spot on which the transgressor paid the forfeit of his life. A slight fall of snow during the preceding night had covered the ground to the depth of a few inches, and had been succeeded by a cold, drizzling rain, which, freezing as it fell, covered the ground with a crust of ice and weighed down the limbs of trees and even the spears of withered grass with its heavy frostwork. The air was chill and raw, and the day was lowering and gloomy as a dark sky and a bitter, drizzling rain could render it. Five men have met in the opening of a thick forest, hard by the spot on which Hurlow and his accomplices had been arrested. They are principals and seconds, attended by a surgeon; and they are there to settle an affair of honor,-to soothe, by the balm of lead and blood, the wounds which have been inflicted on their honor,- mental wounds which no other ointment can mollify, and which will heal kindly only when a counter-irritant has been applied to the body of one or the other of the sufferers. This is an unfailing panacea,--one which, from the frequency of its exhibition, we may safely infer has never been known to suspend its curative virtue! Here are two mhen,-nay, four--five of them,--all sane in mind and body. Two are about to meet in mortal page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 28- THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, combat; other two are there to insist on "fair play;" the fifth is present, with all the surgical appliances which the piooess of this remedial tragedy may require, in order to staunch the bleeding wounds which honor- anointing bullets will inflict when propelled by a steady hand guided by a quick and practised eye. Who are they? One of them is Captain Henry Bar- ber; the other is Charles Rushton. They are principals. Their weapons are rifles. The others are a young lieu- tenant, whose name is Allan Watson, who attends Barber as his second, and the friend of Rushton, whom he ac- costs as Tom Cromal. The fifth is Doctor Hofen. The sheonds hold a brief consultation, and then pro- ceed to mark off the prescribed distance. The rifles are loaded and handed to the principals. Forty-five paces are measured off. Cromal suggests the position. "No!" ebclaims Watson, indignantly. "You don't find me quite so simple as you suppose, sir I Do you think I will allow my friend to stand in the line of that tree? "As you please, sir," replied Cromal, with a sneer. "Choose your own ground, sir. Perhaps that will suit you better" said he, pointing to a place which was in the range of a whitewashed gate in another direction. "Xo trifin'g, sir, or you may have to play another part b-frathe gaiepis up,} replied Watson, sharply. '(Ju,,ut you please!' retorted Cromal. "Come, gentlemen," said the .doctor, -'one unfort*u nate Tffairof the kind is enough at a time; and what makes your blood so hot this raw morning, I vow, I can't imagine I You ought to be able to keep cool in this stinging frost!" he continued, snapping his fingers, anudbeating their tips upon his shoulders with a rapid crootion of. his arms .... ; ayi- 8eie aif tat- I adown a If tou - amdo tries" foul ployPl Shoot him down as I would a mad dog-" WHTE OAK FARM. 289 "They are bent on having my life if they can take it, I know," replied Barber; "but they shall have no unfair advantage. "I think I can suggest a fair posi- tion." And he pointed out the spot, which seemed to offer an equal field. "That will do," said Watson; and, advancing haughtily to the second of Rushton, he indicated it, and Cromal whispered, "The matter in dispute between us we will settle after this affair is decided." "All right, sir," said Watson; " and let me tell you, if I catch you at any more foul play, I will knock you over, without many preliminaries." Cromal's face flushed, but in a calm voice he addressed the principals, who had taken their position:- "Gentlemen, are you ready-?" "We are,' was the prompt replv. A silence as of death ensued for a moment. Not a sound was heard but the sad wailing of the wind as it swayed the heavy boughs, which groaned under the weight of their icy burden. Then a voice, clear and sharp, rang out in tones of shrill earnestness:- "Thou shalt not kill!" If those words had been uttered from the clouds, they could not have produced a more startling effect. "Oh, my masters, what are ye doing? Why will ye shed young blood for naught? Forbear! God says, 'THOU SHALT NOT KILL!"'"And Tacey walked delibe- rately between the candidates for a duel-death. With a bitter curse Cromal sprang towards the mu- latto, and with uplifted hand ordered her to clear the space. "Touch that woman at your peril!" screamed Allan Watson. "Let her be off where she came from," shouted Cro- mal in reply, adding words which decency will not per- mit us to record. page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "Come this way, Tacey," said Henry Barber: "you can do no good now." Tacey obeyed the young man's call, and, approaching him with that singular dignity and respectful deference which were so remarkably combined in her demeanor, she took the place which he assigned her. "Oh, Captain Barber! would God I could die for you! It matters naught for me! My time is short; but you are young! I have seen my young master made happy, and I am content to die. But you, Henry! Oh, forgive me! Your poor wife, and. that dear boy! No, no, my master; you must not fight." "Tacey," said Allan Watson, impatiently, "you must be still: this is enough to unnerve Henry, and the least excitement may cost his life." As though petrified, the poor woman stood a few paces from her young friend. Her lips were mute, and her eyes were fixed with a wild and quick expression upon the face of Cromal. "Are you ready, gentlemen?" he asked a second time. "We are," was once more the reply. "When I count three you may fire, but not before. One-two-three!" At the instant that the last word was pronounced, the combatants, who had stood side to side at the appointed distance, drew their rifles to sight, and a quick sharp report followed, as though but one weapon had been discharged. In the next instant Barber's rifle dropped from his hand; his arm hung powerless at his side; he reeled, and fell into the arms of the mulatto. Rushton coolly applied his mouth to the muzzle of his riflo and blew the smoke through the touch-hole. "Pretty well done, Charley!" said Cromal, in a low tone of congratulation, and with brutal indifference. "Not hurt, oh?" WHTE OAK FARM. 291 "No," replied Rushton; "the fellow's bullet did not come near me. I guess he won't want another shot." "I took care of that!" said Cromal, with a knowing wink. Meanwhile, Doctor Hofen and Allan Watson had come to the assistance of their unfortunate friend. Captain Barber was dead. From a ragged wound in his breast the blood was trickling slowly drop by drop, but the manly heart was still, and the bounding pulse had flickered out its last running throb. Holding the head of the dead man in her lap, the faithful mulatto bent over it and moaned in the deep anguish of unavailing sorrow. "Dead!" said Dr. Hofen, with a quivering voice, as he laid his hand upon that quiet heart. Allan Watson strove to stifle the emotion that made- his breast heave in a wild tumult iof passion. It was in vain. Throwing himself upon the icy ground, he took the hand of his friend, and, bursting into tears, murmured, as he stroked aside the dark hair which had partially obscured the dead man's face, "Oh, Harry! my dear, noble Harry! Who shall bear these tidings to that heart-broken girl that is looking even now to see you enter your home!" There was the sound of a horse's heavy tramp, as the hoof crunched rapidly through the crusted snow, and in another moment James McAlvan was at the side of his fallen friend. "Is there no hope, doctor?" said James, in a voice which betrayed the deepest agony. Dr. Hofen shook his head and turned aside. "Puir, puir Harry!"McAlvan groaned, shading his rough features with his hand. It was over in a moment. The Scotchman took the rifle which lay at Henry's side and sounded it. It was still loaded. He examined the cap, and showed Allan that the detonating powder had page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, been removed from it, leaving nothing but the copper capsule. The weapon dropped from his hand, and, with a bitter look of indignant sorrow, he whispered,- "Allan, this was not even a duel: it was a murder. I will see to the reckoning." "Satisfied?" inquired Cromal, in a taunting voice. Deliberately crossing over towards Rushton and his second, James drew from his belt two short swords, and, measuring them, he handed one to the astounded slave- dealer, and, holding the other in his right hand, said, calmly,- "This quarrel is mine. Had I known a word of this in time, Harry Barber should never have been mur- dered by you and your accomplice. Stand on your guard!" Before Cromal had time to interfere, or Rushton to finish his remonstrance, James had compelled his adver- sary to stand on his defence. Rushton was no mean swordsman. He parried the thrusts which the Scotchman aimed at him with a skill which showed that this was not his first exercise; but he had an antagonist who had never found his equal. Rushton had the advantage of taller stature;- McAlvan's superiority lay in strength of muscle and that ready elasticity of joint which is so rarely combined with heavy muscular development. The icy crust was beaten from the ground and trampled into powder for yards around the combatants, and for some moments the issue of the contest seemed doubtful. At the first clash of the swords, Allan Watson hurried to the scene. He found Rushton's second with rifle in hand, looking on with the deepest anxiety and alarm; and, suspecting that it was his intention to interfere and shoot James McAlvan at the first favorable moment, he placed himself at the distance of a few paces from Cromal, and gave him an intimation, by a gesture which could not be misappre- WHTE OAK FARM. 293 hended, that any such intervention would be summarily prevented. The snow was dyed with blood. ,An unfortunate mis- step, owing to the slippery nature of the arena, brought McAlvan with one knee to the ground, and Rushton, seizing the opportunity, threw himself upon his oppo- nent and aimed a deadly blow at his throat; but his weapon was turned aside by a strong grasp upon the wrist of his sword-hand, and in another instant he fell forward, the point of McAlvan's sword protruding from his back, and the Scotchman, leaving the hilt in the breast of his opponent, turned with the same imperturb- able calmness which he had exhibited throughout the dreadful struggle, and strode with measured step towards Cromal. "It was your purpose to shoot me, I believe," said James, "you cowardly villain! And you primed Harry's rifle!" Cromal raised his rifle and snapped it at the Scot: in his excitement, upon reloading, he had neglected to prime it with a fresh capsule. The next instant the rifle was in McAlvan's hand, and its owner was felled by a back-handed blow, which laid him stunned and prostrate. "Is there iver a cowhide here?" said James. "No," replied Watson. "The coward deserves a sound application of something of the kind, though." "My horsewhip, Allan, will do," said James. "You shall have it," replied Watson. Meanwhile Cromal had gathered himself up, without any hinderance from McAlvan. "Ye'll be doon agin afore ye're five minutes older," said James. "No, I won't, though!" screamed Cromal, drawing a bowie-knife and making a lunge at the Scotchman. Stepping aside with the agility of a practised gymnast, ecAlvan dealt his opponent a tremendous blow on his 25* page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, back, which sent him headlong, and the knife was hurled in his fall beyond the reach of his prostrate opponent. "If ye lay yer hand on that tool yer a dead man," said James. "T dinna want yer filthy bluid. Coward's bluid shall never stain my hands. They're ower red now; but it was you that was chief prompter in this infernal day's wark, and I'll seam yer cowardly back wi' marks sic as you and your soul-driving frind hae pit on mony a puir black body. Stand up, mon!" Goaded to madness, Cromal sprang to his feet and darted like a tiger at McAlvan's throat; but the wary Scot caught his uplifted arm with one hand, and with the other swayed his horsewhip upon the back of his dis- comfited antagonist, and, despite of screams and out- cries, fulfilled his promise to the letter. As he relaxed his hold, Cromal fell exhausted, and James turned from him without another word. Tom Cromal was never seen in that neighborhood again. It was through his agency that the unfortunate and wicked encounter had been procured which caused the death of Henry Barber and brought down the stern retribution upon the survivor in that fatal duel. But who shall portray the wild anguish of that heart-broken wife when tidings came that the husband who, a short hour ago, had kissed her fair cheek when she parted from him in the full glow of health, was weltering in his heart's blood on the cold, frozen ground? Alas! this is the fruit of the most odious slavery that disgraces the American continent! This bondage to the code of honor is more revolting than the servitude of the African race! It is a deeper disgrace to civilization, to humanity, to the Christian name! Upon a small table, in a room the key of which was found in Captain Barber's pocket, lay a letter addressed to Alice Barber. Poor girl! she never read it! Arthur Clarence and Jeannie, at the first reception of WHTE OAK FARM. 295 the sad intelligence, hurried to their friend's residence. The tidings had preceded them, and the body of their friend was brought by weeping servants to the house, ere they left it. That gray-headed father paces the floor like one dis- tracted. He holds the letter in his hand. "Read it, Arthur!" said the old man. It was written in a firm, fair hand, and through- his tears the young man read:- 1cDEAR, DEAR ALICE:--Believe me, I could not help it. The matter between Rushton and myself might have been adjusted without any recourse to extremities but for the in- terference of Tom Cromal. I have noa motive to fight except an unwillingness to be placed in a false position. I have been careful to keep the matter secret. Even Arthur Cla- rence hardly suspects that any affair of the kind is on the tapis. I am yielding to a stern necessity, Alice. I know all that can be said in reprobation of my conduct; and yet, strange as it is, I must go. Not even my love for you, darling, can keep me at home this morning. "I have had a -dark presentiment from the first. I be- lieve that I am about to kiss you and our, dear boy for the last time, but I must go. God bless you, Alice, and our dear boy! For his sake, and for my dear old father's sake, be as calm as you can, if the worst should happen. "In death and ever yours, - HENlRY BARBER." -"Oh, my God! why did I not suspect this thing?" said Arthur, as he handed the letter back to the broken- hearted old man. "This accursed code of honor!" groaned the father. "Oh, it is my own fault! I taught Henry the maxims of that code from his boyhood. My poor, dear, noble son, would God I had died for thee!" page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Two weeks after the funeral of Henry Barber, the same sad concourse of mourners had gathered around that shrouded mansion. Alice Barber slept in the same grave with her husband. She, too, was dragged down to the tomb with the victim of the code of honor. But how was it with the family of Charles Rushton? He had no family. He was a slave-breeder. He had children, but no wife. Henry Barber and his wife were buried in the ceme- tery at White Oak. Tears fell like rain from eyes un- used to weeping, when the sod covered the coffins of the early slain. Rushton's death produced no expression of sorrow; and, whether the verdict was just or not, James McAlvan was regarded as the avenger of innocent blood. It was in evidence that Cromal and Rushton had attempted, by the most nefarious means, to decoy Henry Barber into a conflict which must have ended fatally to him; but through the quick sagacity of Allan Watson the first attempt had been exposed, but not the second. James heard of it, incidentally, only fifteen minutes before he reached the scene of conflict, and came determined to act as an avenger in case of any mishap to his friend. It. was a sore grief to the family at White Oak. Ar- thur Clarence took counsel of Dr. Haddon after they re- turned from the funeral of poor Henry. "James is a singular man," said Arthur. "He is gentle as a woman in his ordinary demeanor: I have never known him utter a harsh word to the servants, or exercise the least severity. I have known him knock a white man down whom he found wantonly beating a negro by the wayside; but he is usually and proverbially gentle. Any thing like oppression rouses him, and he is sure to espouse the cause of the weaker; but this duel with Rushton I cannot endure." "Was it a duel?" inquired Dr. Haddon. WHTE OAK FARM. 297 "Certainly it was," replied Arthur. "I have spoken with James about the affair," said Dr. Haddon, "and, after saying that Henry was slain by deliberate murder, his answer was this:- "'If this land were governed by Christian laws, poor Henry would have been at home with his wife and boy: but Christian laws do not rule here.' H How so, James?' I inquired. "Because the laws connive at these murderous duels, and so long as they do, when the slain has fallen through perfidy and foul play, let the avenger of blood follow on his track. It is Old-Testament righteousness!" "In truth, I love the man," said Clarence; "but I do not admire his views of summary justice." "Abolish that senseless, horrid code of honor, and let the reign of cruelty cease, and you still the avenger," replied the doctor. A melancholy depression weighed upon James McAl- van. His gayety forsook him. The naivetd and ready humor which had made him welcome among all who knew him never fully returned. He was gentle as ever, and, if possible, kinder than he had ever been; but he be- came more and more abstracted in his manner, and, from the day of that fatal encounter, a smile was sel- dom seen to light up -the former glow of cheerfulness upon his honest face. "Bluid! bluid!" he was sometimes heard to say; naething weighs sae heavy on hand or heart as bluid! I dinna want to see sic anither day's wark. God forgi'e me! I wadna shed innocent bluid, but I pray the bluid of the guiltiest may niver make these hands as red as they ha'e been. It's a sair thing and a solemn to send a sinner to his lang account wi' all his sins fu' blown upon him. But puir Harry! I couldna find it in my heart to let his murderers aff without a reckoning." page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, CHAPTER XX IV. THE winter is past. The long, dreary months of snow and sleet, with their alternations of sunshine and slush, have run their round. The cozy in-door comforts, ren- dered all the pleasanter from the contrast with the outer desolation, the cheerful glow of the open fire, with its simmering back-log, and the genial warmth of grates and stoves,-for furnaces, cellar-furnaces, have been voted a nuisance both at White Oak and Rescue Glade,-and all the winter appliances, appurtenances and apparatus for engendering artificial warmth, have been consigned to a six-months' furlough, and are absent on leave. May is about to retire gracefully, adorned with chaplets of blossoms and garlands of roses, and leave the world of flowering beauty in charge of her next sister. The Saturnalia of house-cleaning are over. What a mercy! The din of clattering buckets and splashing water, the restless scour of brushes, the swabbing of mops and housecloths, the rummaging of cupboards and closets, the confusion of scolding housewives and sulky helps, the splattering of whitewash,-which old-fashioned housekeepers insist is so much preferable to paint or paper, in your up-stair rooms,-the squalling of luckless children, who slip upon the glib floors and procure a down-setting without notice and without the exercise of volition, and all those concomitants of the semi- annual festival-the half-yearly Saturnalia-so delight- ful, so full of monuments adorned with patience smiling at grief;-this carnival of female supremacy is over! Dear mercy! The last tin cup has discharged its con- WHTE OAK FARM. 299 tents upon the window, and the soft, rainy trickling,' so provocative of repose at other times, has ceased. The summer matting is all snug. Aunt Dbrothy has donned her cap and taken to her knitting, and you can begin now to look up your papers, which have been "put away" for you with a charming regard to safe-keeping, and which you will not find again until the next semi- annual upheaval shall restore the long-lost to your em- brace. It is your turn now, sir. You may begin to grumble. Pray, keep it up for a week, at breakfast. Do! Ask Aunt Dorothy where this thing is, and whether the other was not just there before she began her last campaign for the subjugation of all things to the reign of order. It will do you good; and it will be so edifying to your wife, and so very pleasant and profitable to hear Aunt Dorothy's evasive answer. She knows no- thing about them. No indeed! How should she? There was some rubbish in that room, she knows; but, law me! if a body is to leave all those papers lying about, where is the use of cleaning house? she wants to know. Tell her, now. Do! You ought to know. If you don't, who does-? "Yes; but, aunty, those papers on my desk were very valuable to me," said the old colonel, who was taking his last swallow of coffee and looking over to the mantel for his meerschaum. "Those papers were not rubbish, aunty; and I left them in one of the pigeon-holes on purpose, so that I could lay: my hand on them when I wanted them: and now they are not there!" Why, law me! I didn't put them nowheres i" replied Aunt Dorothy. "Of course not," said the colonel, with a grave nod. "And then, as to the pigeon-holes, Jim always looks after the pigeons," continued aunty. "That's true again," observed the colonel, filling: his pipe. "But the papers, aunty?" page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 800 . THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, "Law me! what can I tell about the papers?" ex- claims aunty, with increasing perplexity. {'Every pigeon-hole in that desk was cleared out, as if you'd intended to send it to some sale of second-hand furniture," continued the colonel. "I saw no pigeons about your desk; and it's no place for such things, anyhow," said Aunt Dorothy. "Very true, again," observed the colonel, drawing a long whiff from his pipe. "But the papers, aunty?" Aunty laughs quietly and goes to the room in dispute. The colonel sits down by the open window, and, with a dry internal chuckle, which hardly relaxes the muscles of his face, awaits aunty's return. "Now, father, I declare you are too bad to be teasing Aunt Dorothy so about the papers," said Jeannie. "Have a little patience, and I will look for them." The colonel turns to her; and now his face shines with the oil of good-humor, as he quietly says,- "I am only giving Aunt Dorothy a lesson, Jeannie. She needs one every six months. I found the papers stuffed awav in a side-cupboard, and I have got them all safe; but it will do aunty no harm to take a quiet game at hide-and-seek for her amusement and mine. So let her be at it." And the colonel smoked his pipe, at peace with Aunt Dorothy and all the world. During the six months that have passed since the occurrences of the last chapter, important arrangements have been effected. Dr. Saundy Lawrence and his wife are installed at Rescue Glade. Arthur Clarence and Jeannie are in possession of the old homestead; White Oak has returned to the heir of its ancient proprietors, and the colonel is at home. His cares are few. His means are ample; and he is not troubled about meum and tuum, for there is not one of his children that has a giin of covetous greed in his soul, and the good old man lives among them,honored and beloved,--sometimes WHTE OAK FARM. 301 spending a day with Saundy and Helen, and sometimes riding over to Andy's farm. Andy, too, is married. No one at White Oak was in the secret but the colonel and Arthur-; and it would have done you good to see the mortification of Saundy and of Jeannie, who had endured Andy's saucy allusions to their progressive happiness, when they found the pre- parations for Andy's marriage all complete, and received their first intimation of the affair, in the card of invita- tion which lay under their dinner-plate, just one week before the wedding. Aunt Dorothy's "Did you ever, now? Well, I do say!" and Jeannie's astonishment, and Saundy's exclamation, and the colonel's good broad Scotch laugh, were all excellent condiments to the dinner of which Andy partook. Ida Stanley was a lovely bride,-one of Jeannie's most especial favorites; and the regard which they all felt for Dr. Stanley's family made the engagement a source of great congratulation. By the colonel's request, an arrangement was made, in pursuance of which, Rescue Glade was transferred to Saundy, whilst the adjoining plantation, in excellent order, was made over to Andy, and Arthur retained the old homestead. All these events had occasioned scarcely less rejoicing in the quarter than in the mansion. Basil's emphatic approbation was signalized by a joint picnic, in which the hands of the three plantations all united. Then there was a torch-light procession, and an exhibition of fireworks, in the shape of rockets, Roman candles, and other nuisances, which wound up by setting fire to the barn at White Oak. The flames were soon extinguished, however, and no damage was done. Basil vowed, "It warn't dat rocket at all. It was dat Turvy wid his shootin'-crackers!" Turvy, however, dodged the 'sciplin', and said he hadn't ben near de barn wid no sich thing! It was Uncle Basil's last sky-racket that 26 page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] 302 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, did the mischief; and, in proof, he produced the charred stick, which Basil incontinently broke into very small fragments; declaring that if he ever did "cotch dat Turvy agin wid his shootin'-crackers at de barn, he would most 'suredly train him in de way he should go." During the winter several letters had passed between friend Uriah Sneckman and the family at White Oak. Priscilla, too, had written in answer to Jeannie's invita- tion, and Tip had been elevated to a pitch of enthusiastic delight by a visit from Andy and his bride, who called to see Uriah and inquire after his man-servant Timothy. Timothy was just harnessing the horse to Uriah's snug carriage, when he heard Master Sneckman's voice calling, in a tone which indicated unusual excitement, "Timothy, where art thou?" "I's yer, of coas, Mast'r Sneckum," replied Tip, thrusting his sable visage through the stable-door that opened upon the garden, tastefully decked with flower- ing shrubs and plants in elegant profusion. Friend Uriah was in the act of handing a beautiful white rose to Andy's bride, when the negro recognised his young master. With an exclamation of joyful as- tonishment and surprise, he bounded through the open door, and, with the familiar affection of unquestioning friendship, seized Andy's proffered hand with a grasp that spoke more powerfully than words the sincerity of his delight. "Oh, Andy, Andy! My dear young mast'r! Is dis you, for sure?" and the tears gushed from the faithful negro's eyes. "Is dis you, Andy? Am de folks all well?" "To-be-sure this is Andy, and the folks are all well, Tip," said Andy, shaking the negro's hand like a pump. handle. "Who should it be but me? And thid is my wife, Tip. Don't you know Ida Stanley?" WHTE OAK FARM. 803 "Got married, Massa Andy?"Tip roared in astonish- ment, whilst his eyes dilated wondrously. "To-be-sure I have," replied Andy, laughing aloud. "'Xcuse my bad manners, Missy Ida! I didn't know you was married to young mast'r. And I isn't got my good close on dis mornin'; but I's proud to offer my best respec's and my 'gratitulations." And Tip bowed with real grace. Ida smiled, and held out her hand to the negro. Tip was embarrassed; but said, promptly,-- "Missy, I's not fit to shake hands wid you jes' now!" "Yes, you are," said Ida, still extending the delicate little hand. Tip caught it with both his brawny hands, and, as the tears rolled down his cheeks, he said,- "You's like our Jeannie,-you belongs to de Lar- rences, and you has got a right to be one of'em, missy Dat's so!" "Thank you, Tip. 1 understand your compliment; and I appreciate it, I assure you," said Ida, with a gentle smile. "Dar, Massa Sneckum!" said Tip, appealing with an air of triumph to Uriah, who had looked upon this scene with the deepest interest. "You sees now how de folks at White Oak treats dar culled people." "Truly, Timothy, I see," responded Uriah. Tip moved as if he was hung on wires. He walked as though all his joints had an extra articulation to facilitate their motions. "You wants de hoss, I s'pose, massa?" inquired Tip, with an expression that indicated some doubt. "No, Timothy; I think not," said Uriah. "Our friends will 7stay to dinner." Uriah would take no de- nial. They had not thought of staying, but Priscilla page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 304 THE OLIVE-BRANCII; OR, made them stay; and Uriah opened the stable-door, and whispered to Tip,- "Timothy, can't thee lend a hand in the kitchen?" "Of coas, Massa Sneckman, I kin do dat: of coas! I'll be dar in less dan no time at all," replied Tip. And Uriah went into the house, musing, as he passed from the stable, "What shall we do when Timothy returns to bond I mean, to White Oak?" On this occasion the definite time was fixed for the proposed visit to Tip's friends in Virginia. As the time drew near, Uriah faithfully endeavored to impress Tip's mind with his duty in relation to the ques- tion of remaining in liberty, or voluntarily returning to his master. He plied the negro with arguments from Scripture. This, however, he abandoned, when Tip cited the provision of the Hebrew law, in which even a Hebrew might become a servant for life, if he deliberately refused to go out from his master's family in the year of jubilee. "I love my master," was Tip's constant re- ply. "I love his family." Uriah tried philosophy. He argued from the dignity of human nature. Tip was no match as a dialectician for Uriah; but still, friend Sneckman hardly knew what to say to Tip's answers. "Massa Sneckum, you says we all free and equal by nat'ral right. Very well. Dat may be so. S'pose, now, massa, you turns round and lets Tip be mast'r for a spell. How will dat do? We's all on de same footin', you knows. Dar's no mo' reason why Tip should be your sarvant dan dat Tip should be your mast'r. Now, Tip's got mo' money dan many a white man dat hires sarvants. S'pose, den, you be my sarvant. How would dat answer?" said Tip. "Nay," replied Uriah, "that does not follow, I think." "We's all got de same nat'ral rights, massa," replied WHTE OAK FARM. 305 Tip., "So, Massa Sneckum, you go to de stable and give Tip's boss a good curryin': now, do it right, massa. Den, if Tip's cook gits on a spree, Massa Sneckum, you 'tend to de dinner in de kitchen, and yer's a dolla' for you for your extra trouble! Yah! ha! massa! Fine times, I tell you so! De same nat'ral rights, you knows! I set at de table for a spell, now, and you wait on one side, and Mistis Priscilla on de oder; and let Tip jes' "tend to de sausages and buckwheat-cakes, and don't 'sturb him till he hollers, 'Massa Sneckum, take dat plate away, and fetch me some roast turkey and fried yoysters!' Good time! ya! Dat's so! Now, massa, I tell you de trufe. If I was to see a culled man be- havin' dat way to you, I'd jes' keel him right over, -I would so! Sich nat'ral rights won't do, nohow!" "Timothy, thou art set in thy ways, and there is too much drollery about thee," said Uriah. "Now, I's serus, massa. De fac' am dis yer. De Lor' never meant dat all people was to have 'quality in every respec'. If dey had, dar could be no masters and no sarvants; and den what is de folks to do dat isn't fit to be masters? Dey'll jes' loaf about like de culled mem- bers of s'ciety sich as I has seen about Baker Street and dat neighborhood. Some of dem dar I doesn't ad- mire, now, I tell you so. Dey's too pore to live, and too lazy to work." And Tip wound up with an emphatic "Dat's so!" "But why not stay with us, Timothy? We will treat thee well," said Uriah. "You has treated me well, and I'll alhers 'member it, and Tip will never forgit you and mistis; but, Mast'r Sneckum, I wants to be 'mong my own people. I wants to see my ole mast'r, and Arthur Clarence, and Jeannie, and the rest of 'em. I wants to go frough de woods agin, and climb de ole trees once mo'; and to set down on de sill of my cabin wid Jim, and be jes' as I've U 26, page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 806 T HE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, ben, and whar I've ben, sence I was no higher nor dat chair. I's home-sick fer Ole Virginny! Dat's so!" It was of no use, and Uriah submitted in despair. On the very morning succeeding the semi-annual lus- tration to which we have alluded in the opening of this chapter, Tip arrived at White Oak with his Philadelphia friends. The colonel was seated at an open window of the library, when his attention was attracted by the sound of wheels, and in another moment he heard Tip's well- known voice introducing Massa Sneckum and Mistis Priscilla to Arthur, who was giving some directions to the gardener in front of the Manor House. By consent of all parties the homestead at White Oak had been dignified by this title, in order to distinguish it from the mansions on the adjoining properties, which were in possession of the colonel's two sons. Friend Uriah and his wife were welcomed with that generous cordiality which at once placed them at perfect ease. Tip was in an ecstasy. He had the good sense, however, not to obtrude any boisterous demonstrations upon his old master. The colonel shook him warmly by the hand, and quietly, but with genuine affection, ex- pressed his pleasure at seeing him home again. "You'll be wanted at the house, Tip, to attend to our Philadelphia friends; and you must do us credit, mon, by seeing that every attention in your line is paid to them," observed the colonel, taking Tip aside. "I's be about, mast'r," replied Tip; "and I knows zactly how to 'tend to Massa Sneckum. He's a raal good man, mast'r,-what I call a gemman as is a gem- man; and he thinks a heap of de folks at White Oak." Tip's meeting with "Mistis Jeannie" had a little more romance about it. The poor fellow was evidently com- pletely at a loss for words to express his delight; and WHTE OAK FA-RM. 807 when Jeannie held out her hand to the faithful negro, and told him how glad she was to see him, he burst into tears, and, clasping her hand in both his own for a mo- ment, he hurried out to recover his self-possession by a conference with his friends in the quarter. Basil and Jim were the first to greet him, with a shout of welcome which made Tip sensible that he was indeed at home again. Jim had succeeded in his suit with Mess, and had been duly married shortly after the trial of his con- stancy which we have already detailed. His affgction was not "squenched" by the whitewash which had been spattered upon him in his serious mood. Tip comforted himself with the reflection "dat dar was as good fish in de sea yit as was ever caught," and assured his chum "dat he warn't gwine to grieve over spilled milk," and wished him "joy of his bargain" with a heartiness that proved the strength of his Christian philosophy. Arm in arm the two walked -down to the quarter, where "the boys" contended for the honor of Tip's company to din- ner; but he decided the question with an air of dignified gratification, and with genuine tact announced " dat he p'oposed to take his fust meal arter his return wid his ole messmate, and to pay his respec's to de bride, and offer his gratitulations on her happy marriage wid de man of her choice; but he hoped to spend de next fifty years of his life among his frien's, and to give dem de benefit of his sperience sence he had been away from hum." For more than six months Tip was the lion of White Oak, and his humorous delineations of adventure kept the quarter in a roar of merriment. A pleasant family gathering at the Manor House made the first day of their friends' visit pass with the rapidity which pleasure always lends to time. Dr. Haddon be- came a special favorite with Uriah after the first hour's conversation. Uriah declared to Priscilla that he .had never met a hireling preacher in his life that was half page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 808 THE O-LIVE-BRANCH; OR, so agreeable; and before they separated in the evening, he took occasion to tell her-privately again, of course- that if any man in the world ought to be paid for preaching, it was his firm conviction friend Ephraim Haddon was that man. Priscilla, too, was charmed with the ladies. Ida Law- rence she regarded as an old acquaintance; and the ab- sence ofall constrained formality,-that incubus upon the politeness of true hospitality,--the artless sincerity and delicacy of the attentions which were paid with the most natural and easy grace, gave her a home-feeling which she had never experienced in such perfection any- where out of her own snug domicile in dear Philadelphia. Uriah was carried away with the music, which very pleasantly varied the intervals of conversation. The ladies sang charmingly, and the gentlemen were ama- teurs of no ordinary ability. They sang "Home Again!" with admirable spirit and zest. Uriah caught the sound of Tip's voice in the hall, chiming in the refrain, and whispered to Ida,- "Dost thou hear Timothy?" At first, the abrupt inquiry startled the girl and rather provoked a smile; but she listened a moment, and re- plied,- "He sings well, I declare: there's music in him." "Call Tip in," said the colonel. "He shall give us a song." "Tip," said Jeannie, going out into the hall, '" come in. We want you to sing for us." "Oh, Mistis Jeannie!" exclaimed the negro, in great embarrassment, "I can only sing in my pore way, and I's 'shamed to sing afore you all,-I is so!" "Why need you be ashamed, Tip? There is no one here but the family, you know; and I am sure Mr. Sneck- man would like to hear you," replied Jeannie. "Well, I's bound to go in, if you says so, Mistis WHTE OAK FARRM. 309- Jeannie," replied Tip. And the negro entered the parlor, and with a graceful obeisance presented himself before the company. "Come, Tip, mon," said the colonel, " gi'e us a song." "What shall I sing for you, mast'r?" said Tip. "Timothy," said Uriah, " suppose thee gives us Aged Uncle Edward: how would that do?" "'Age' Uncle Ed'ard,' Massa Sneckum," said Tip; "'Age' Uncle Ed'ard!' I doesn't know dat tune!" "Oh, to-be-sure thee does. I've ,heard thee sing it often," said Uriah, laughing: " only thee nicknames thy uncle." "'Old Uncle Ned,'" said Jeannie, joining in the laugh which their friend, with quiet'humor, had purposely pro- voked. "' Ole Uncle Ned! Yes; I knows dat," said Tip; and, without further parley, he composed the risible muscles, which had become sympathetically excited, and gave Ole Uncle Ned" in a style that brought a round of ap- plause, in the midst of which he vanished from the room. "Let me say to thee, friend Alexander," observed Uriah, addressing the colonel, "that servant of thine is a treasure! I promised thee to do my best to keep him; and I have been so selfish, I confess, as to exhaust all my powers of persuasion to induce him to remain with us; but I have been constrained to let him go, and even to come with him. There is great attraction, therefore, in White Oak; and I understand now what the magnet is that draws so powerfully." "Well, friend, what is the magnet?" inquired the colonel. , Love! Love! The power of kindness!" replied Uriah. "There is a power in love that can magnetize the very chains of bondage and draw its object all the more strongly by these iron bonds! And yet thou knowest I do not admire slavery, even in its best form." page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, (I know you do not," replied the colonel, smiling, "and I have no wish to prepossess you in its favor. I regard it as a duty which I owe to my servants to provide for them and make them as happy as I can; but I tell you with equal candor, I believe they are far safer with me than they would be were I to drive every one of them away to-morrow and compel them to pro- vide for their own support in the free States." "If they are all like Timothy thee would find it hard to get rid of them," said Uriah, laughing. "But I would ask thee, friend Ephraim, is not this relation of master and slave very unfavorable to moral purity?" "'To the pure all things are pure,'" replied Dr. Had- don. "The impure and licentious doubtless abuse this relation; but they would abuse every other as readily were slavery abolished. You find impure and licentious men, I fear, even in the free States." "Verily," replied Uriah. "Therefore, the great matter should be, it seems to me, to teach men, by the grace of God, to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this world; and then," added the doctor, " the scandalous vices which are confined to no latitude will come to an end. Until then, however, let me say, the protection of a Christian master is, next to the grace of God, the strongest safeguard of female virtue among the slaves." t I shall not dispute that either," replied Uriah, "after what I have learned during Timothy's abode with me. Still, I cannot help wishing that all men were free." IIWhen God sees fit to order it he will shape his pro- vidence accordingly," said Dr. Haddon. "A gitation and denunciation have not yet released a single slave, so far as I can learn, and I doubt if they ever will. The matter is in the hands of the masters who hold them, under God; and I believe, if the New-Testament law WHTE OAK FARM. 81it can be enforced, as it should be, by the statutes of the slave States, you will soon find every Southern planta- tion a White Oak, if not every negro a Tip." "What I am concerned most of- all for," said the colonel, "is to train these poor people in the fear and love of God. I care for none of your abstractions. A few years more and they will meet me before the Lord, who is to judge us all; and as a father among his chil- dren, so have I sought to dwell among the people whom God has given into my charge." There was a deep and solemn earnestness in the tones of the old man's voice, and, rising from his chair, he said to his family, "I would like, children, to unite with you all in prayer to God once more for his blessing on you and yours and upon all our people." Every knee was bowed, and from that noble old heart the prayer of humble faith was poured forth in tones of melting tenderness and earnest love. He prayed for his children, for each family of them, for his beloved pas- tor, for their guests; and then his heart went out after the servants. He commended them all to God, remem- bering the poor wanderer who had that day returned to his home, invoking the protection of Heaven, pleading for the end of oppression and outrage, and the abroga- tion of every law which a holy God cannot endure. He then prayed for himself, and with touching simplicity alluded to the warnings which his heavenly Father had kindly sent in the sudden attacks of illness which had been twice repeated in the last month, and asked that he- might ever be found ready to answer his blessed Master's call. The silence which pervaded that room was oppressive from its solemnity. Every heart was filled with deep emotion, and tears fell from every eye. Uriah responded at its close with a fervenrt Amen. The next day, by appointment, was spet with Andy page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 812 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, and his bride. The same party which had met at the Manor formed a family reunion at the new plantation, which had received the appellation of Firwood. Judge Woodhull came to spend the afternoon with his friends. They rode to the quarters of the different plantations, and Uriah was satisfied that the poor bondmen and bondmaids were really about as comfortable as they desired to be. Tip was peculiarly well pleased with Uriah's expressions of gratification. He regarded them as a proclamation of his own triumph; and when his friend praised the maydukes which Aunt Tamar brought, and he found that the luxury of the finest fruit was enjoyed without stint by the "half-starved and half-naked" denizens of the quarter, and saw every face beaming with easy contentment, and not one of the whole posse-comitatus that was not decently clad, he confessed with honest sincerity that Timothy might have found situations in the free States less congenial to his comfort and welfare than the position to which he had voluntarily returned. The visit of the Friends to the White Oak quarter was an occasion of great interest to the occupants. They had heard Tip's accounts of Massa Sneckum, and were anxious to show their appre- ciation of the kindness with which Tip had been treated in Philadelphia. Aunt Tacey's intelligence and the genuine delicacy of her manners were the special admiration of Priscilla; but that which more than all was the wonder of the- guests at White Oak was the honest unostentatious devo- tion of the servants to the persons and interests of their master's household. As Dr. Haddon walked arm in arm with Uriah in the pleasant evening shade of the fruit-garden at Firwood, the Friend remarked, in his quiet way,- "Ephraim, I am reminded, by what I have seen this day, of the lines which I met a few weeks ago in one of WHTE OAK FARM. 313 the religious papers of thy denomination, which read thus:- 'As stars upon the tranquil sea In mimio glory shine, So words of kindness in the heart Reflect the source divine; Oh, then, be kind, whoe'er thou art That breathest mortal breath, And it shall brighten all thy life And sweeten even death.'- I suppose, however, that it would not be fair to regard thy friend's plantations as fair samples of Southern economy?"' "I can speak from observation," replied Dr. Haddon; "and in this section of country, whilst there is but one Colonel Lawrence and but one White Oak, there are many who adopt his mode of management as the model. I regard the colonel's plantation as a kind of normal school, and his sons' establishments as younger institu- tions which will in time reach similar results; and I know what I affirm when I say that I have met no happier Christians than some of those very people with whom we have conversed to-day. That there are op- pressive laws, unjust and cruel in theory and practice, in our Southern code, we admit and deplore; but these will gradually disappear; and I honestly believe that, in the aggregate, the cruelty is more rampant on paper than it is in reality." "That is the truth, doctor," said Judge Woodhull. ' Let the Christian sentiment of the South act without the embarrassing interference of Northern dictation, and I am persuaded many of these unjust statutes will speedily be blotted out. You are aware, friend Sneck- man, that during the last winter -a modification of the law in relation to colored seamen has passed both houses -of the South Carolina Legislature. It substitutes con- 27 page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 314 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, finement on board the ship to which they belong in- stead of in prison." "Your remark reminds me," said Dr. Haddon, "of an item which I cut out of a Cincinnati religious paper a day or two ago; and it is so rich, I want you to hear it. Here it is bodily, as the printer gives it in good clear type:- "HOME MSSIONS AND SLAVERY.--The following is from the Congregational Herald:- "' The Executive Committee of the American Home Mis- sionary Society, at their meeting, December 22, took very important action touching the subject of slavery. A memo- rial respecting the relation of the Society to slavery having been received from the General Association of Iowa, it was referred at a previous meeting to a special committee. That committee, after much deliberation and consultation, reported the following resolution, which was adopted by the Executive Committee without a dissenting voice. "'Resolved, That in the disbursement of the funds com- mitted to their trust, the committee will not grant aid to churches containing slave-holding members, unless evidence be furnished that the relation is such as, in the judgment of the committee, is justifiable, for the time-being, in the pecu-: liar circumstances in which it exists.' "In communicating the resolution to the editor of the paper referred to, the secretaries say,- "'This we mean to carry out faithfully. We are to be the judges, and not the church or presbytery. The facts must all be spread before us, if they ask our aid, and, if the slaves are held under ordinary circumstances, no aid can be granted Slave-holding in its proper sense we abjure.' " The group which gathered around the doctor, who read the "morceau," listened with grave attention to this edifying sample of extemporaneous legislation; and, WHTE OAK- FARM. 15 at the close, the old colonel, with a quiet laugh, turied to Andy and said,- "Aundy, mon, if ye'll find mey a decent kind of a young man, I'll pay him a fair salary to go as a mission- ary to that Executive Committee and give them a few lessons in the doctrine of the apostles." "Well," replied the judge, " it would be money applied to a good purpose, if there were such a thing as reach- ing them; but I am afraid your poor Bible-reader would be about as welcome to them as the Master was to the Pharisees." "Whence have these men this authority?" inquired Dr. Haddon. it They are appointed to disburse the cha- rities of the church. They act as legislators; they settle matters which the highest judicatories of the Presbyte- rian Church have declined to adjudge; and, what is more, they arrogate a power which the apostles of our Lord never claimed, and which they never attempted 61 wished to exercise." "Bless their dear hearts!" said the colonel, laughing with genial good-humor. 'D inna be impatient wi them, doctor! Agen ye get to be as auld as mysel', ye'l] find that in these days there are many members of exe- cutive committees that know a great deal more about righteousness, and truth, and charity, than the inspired apostles did. If they had only been apostles instead of Paul and Peter and such old-fogy conservatives, what blessed epistles and rousing pastorals they would hav( given us!" "Doubtless," replied the doctor, smiling. "But, leav ing all raillery aside, did you ever hear, in all your life such reasons assigned for refusing to further the preach ing of the gospel? If we slave-holders are such outcasts we are the very men -for whom that precious committee should be most of all concerned. The apostles were commanded to BEGIN the preaching of the gospel oi page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 316 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, Jerusalem, and, John Bunyan very properly tells us, the reason was that Jerusalem sinners were of all sinners the worst. But this dear committee proposes to punish the wickedness of the slave-holders by abridging the blessings of the gospel and thus curtailing the religious privileges of the slaves!" 'tLet them alone, meon, I tell you," said the colonel. "They belong to the family of the Wise Men of the East; and ye ken, doctor, they were a' kings, or else the Church of Rome is sadly mistaken in her tradition. And this accounts-dinna ye see?-for the royal prero- gative they exercise." Friend Uriah's placid countenance was lit up with a broad smile, and he could not refrain from joining in the mirth which the colonel's sarcasm provoked. "It is some comfort to reflect," said Judge Woodhull, " that the Church of God lived before the birth of these rulers in Israel, and it will probably survive their death; but, I confess, they remind me of the man celebrated in the nursery-rhyme as 'wondrous wise,' and who proved his wisdom by performing prodigies in a bramble-bush." "Whist, mon!" said the colonel; "ye should never speak evil of dignities!" We have heard much of the horrible atrocities of American slavery. We offer no apology for the least of them. We hold that a master who in the eye of the law is the owner of servants, and who can abuse the power which is put into his hands by wanton or capricious cruelty, disgraces his manhood; but let us not forget there are many Christian men and women in the slave States, who are as able to appreciate the claims of humanity, and to understand the maxims of their blessed Lord, and to feel their personal responsibility to WHTE OAK FARM. 317 him, as any who, living in a more northern latitude, feel it their duty to offer gratuitous advice, and to utter the severest censures, and to decide questions which they are perhaps not in a position to adjudicate. We know that instances of cruelty can be cited; but we ap- prehend they are confined to no latitude, and we believe it is self-evident that they constitute exceptions to a general rule when they are found in the Southern States. If a man had no higher motive than self- interest to actuate him, he would be deterred from any wanton infliction of cruelty upon his servants. ,We do know that no man who lays claim to the social position of a gentleman can be guilty of any such meanness and escape the penalty-which Southern society entails upon such conduct; and we are quite sure that .Christian men in the South are as keenly alive to their responsibilities to God and their fellow-men as their Northern brethren can be for them. A single incident, which we state on the authority of a friend who is familiar with all the circumstances, will illustrate this assertion far more effectually than any other form of proof. The terrible snow-storm of the winter whose chilling breath still lingers around us is fresh in our memories. A Christian lady in the South had been in the habit of walking every evening to the dwelling of a slave, a negro woman, who had for months been confined to her sick-bed. Her custom was to read' a chapter in the Bible to the sufferer; and on that Sunday night she went out, notwithstanding the remonstrances of her friends, to fulfil the wonted office of kindness, because, as she said, poor * * * would not be able to sleep, unless she heard her chapter as usual. Alarmed at her protracted absence, friends followed through the drifting snow, but could not find her; and, though the search was renewed again and again, it was not until the next 27^ page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 818 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, morning that she was discovered, frozen and dead, only a few steps from the dwelling of the slave woman. This fact is cited with no other object than to show that Christian sympathy will flow out to the children of bondage with the generous self-denial which makes the heart more willing to forego its own ease or conve- nience than to deprive the dejected and sorrowing of their accustomed solace. If Christians at the North desire that the law of Christ shall govern the South, let them rest assured that the friends of the Saviour, in whose behalf they manifest so much interest, are equally solicitous that North and South, yea, and this whole earth, may share in the blessings of revealed grace and truth. WHTE OAK FARM. 319 CHAPTER XXV. WEEKS rolled on, and still the guests, who had several times fixed, as they averred, definitively, the period of their return to Philadelphia, suffered themselves to be persuaded to tarry with their hospitable friends for an- other and another week. The acquaintance which had been formed, before Uriah's visit, by epistolary corre- spondence, had ripened into the intimacy of friendship; and the constant opportunities afforded by the uncon- strained intercourse of daily life gave the fairest field for impartial observation. Liberty of speech was not only tolerated, but demanded. Uriah and Priscilla always found attentive listeners; and, even where differences of opinion existed and arguments deemed conclusive on one side were met by demurrers and rejoinder from the other, the utmost demands of cordiality and courtesy were met with a cheerfulness which endeared the parties more than ever. Throughout the hay-harvest Uriah enjoyed himself greatly. Basil insisted upon adhering, for his own part, to the somewhat antiquated mode of bringing the hay home by means of a rope thrown in a noose around the base of large ricks, which had been permitted to stand two or three days in the field to "cure," before it was de- posited in the barn. Seated upon the top of a rick, to which a rope had been adjusted, the old negro drove Roan with jolly good-humor, dragging behind him shocks of "fodder for de critturs," which Jim and Tip stowed Away in the mow, whilst the other hands busied page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 820 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, themselves with the more improved modes of securing that great staple of agriculture. To all attempts to prove the superior excellence of the team and hay-wagon, Basil was indignantly deaf when they were proffered by his associates. To friend Uriah he listened with great respect; but he insisted to the end upon the superiority of his own mode of trans- portation, and, when rallied by his comrades, he an- swered, impatiently,- "Go 'way, go 'way! you don' know nuffin! I hasn't lived dese t'irty odd years wid my ole mast'r to be taught by sich fellers as you! No! I knowed more nor you knows now afore you was borned. Git out of de way dar, and let ole Roan go by. Go 'long wid yer hay- carts!" Uriah seated himself with Old Boss upon the ricks, and enjoyed the ride home from the novelty of his asso- ciation with the original character who presided over this primitive style of harvesting. On one occasion the venerable negro lost his balance, owing to a sudden lurch of the horse, and disappeared suddenly in the rear of the hayrick, leaving his heels protruding over its broken summit. With a hearty laugh, Uriah congratu- lated him on the superiority of his mode over the mo- dern innovatory process. "Only think, friend Basil," said he, "how much easier such a down-letting is from a rick than from a hay- wagon. I give thee credit for thy adherence to the way of thy fathers." "It's de bes' way," said Basil, regaining his proud eminence: " de good ole way is allers de bes'. Git along, ole Roan, wid yer shindies! Look at him! Ha! ycr!" The wheat-harvest was all safely garnered, and through it all Uriah lingered, riding occasionally with the colonel or with Arthur, and sometimes with the colonel's sons or with Dr. Haddon, through the fields; WHTE OAK FARM. 321 throwing off his coat, and, rake in hand, following the cradlers until his face was as red as a beet and he was sweltering in a bath of perspiration. "Ha! Massa Sneckum," said Tip, who with Jim led off a squad of reapers, whilst James and Donald McAlvan headed a rival party in another part of the field, "you isn't used to dis kind of work. You better quit rakin' for a while." "Well, Timothy, I'll take thy advice," said Uriah, mounting the pony which had stood eyeing his rider's feats, "and I'll wait till the weather moderates, before I rake after thee; for verily it is hot work!" "I's heard you's gwine back to Philadelphy nex' week, mast'r," said Tip; '-but I hope you isn't. I jes' wish you'd stay yer till corn-huskin' comes, kase you'd jes' see fun about dat time; and den I wish you'd make up yer mind to stay yer all de time. It's mighty nice livin' in dese parts, Massa Sneckum! Jes' de bes' country in de whole worl'. Dat's so!" "I have no doubt thee thinks so, Timothy," said his friend; "but I must go home shortly. I have already overstayed my time." "Massa Sneckum," replied Tip, "if you'll come and live over yer in Ole Virginny, and jes' buy a nice little * farm of 'bout fifty acres, I'll ax de colonel to 'low me to work for you and Mistis Priscilla; and I'll be boss for you, same as Uncle Basil is for Massa Lawrence!" , Thee is obliging, Timothy," said Uriah, smiling. "I1 thought thee would never leave-thy old master for a new one." "No mo' I wouldn't, Massa Sneckum. Dat's not de objec'! 1No, sa," exclaimed Tip. "I jes' works for you and b'longs to Colonel Lawrence de same as allers." "But where shall I find fifty acres of just such land as would suit me?" inquired Uriah. "Whar? Jes' yer! Whar else, sa?" exclaimed Tip. V page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 822 THE OLIVE-BRANCOH OR, "In dis plantation we have twelve hundred acres, 'cludin' de woodland, and dar's ten hundred mo' at Firwood and 'Skew Glade; and we jes' lets mo' nor half de land lie idle, and fustrate land, too, master! You say de word, and my ole mast'r will let you have it on yer own terms. Fac'! I's jes' sure he will." "Well, we will see about it," said Uriah, with a good- humored nod. i'But, Timothy, what shall I do for a house if I get the land?" "A house! Why, Massa Sneckum, dar's A zariah and Zekel, and half a dozen other fellers,-masons and car- penters,-dat can build as nice a house as you would wish to live in, and have it all ready for you to move into in six months at de werry latest," replied Tip, with great earnestness. "But suppose I don't want to move into it, Timothy: what then?" said Uriah. "Of coas den it's no use buildin'," replied Tip. "But rs serus, Massa Sneckum; I is so. I wish you'd make up yer mind to live in Ole Virginny. "It's jes' sich folks as you, mast'r, as ort to move into dese yer parts of de worl.' You likes de country! Well, yer it is! You's ben shet up long enough in dat big town, and yer helf is a-sufferin'. Fac', now. It is so!" "I really was not aware of it," said Uriah. "I think my health is tolerable." "Tol'able; only tol'able," rejoined Tip. "Down yer it would be fustrate. Dat's sol!" Uriah laughed at Tip's pertinacity; but a thought had evidently occurred to him,--probably suggested by Tip's advice,-and he broached it to the colonel. "Friend Lawrence," said Uriah, as they trotte d slowly towards the Tnansion-house, "'I have a question to ask thee." "Ask away, mon," replied the colonel, "and ye'll soon hear if I can answer it." WHTE OAK FARM, 323 "Will thee sell me fifty acres of arable land, with some woodland annexed,-say twenty acres or so?" inquired Uriah. "If any other man, out of my family connection, had asked me that question," said the colonel, promptly, ',I would say, No; at no price;' -but to you I answer, 'Yes; at any price.' " "I thank thee," said -Uriah. "lName thy price, and I will be the purchaser., Let the deed be drawn." ;"It shall be done," said the colonel. "Andy shall attend to it this afternoon, and I can show you the most eligible site you can select, into the bargain." "I thank thee," said Uriah.. "And -now I have another question to ask."': "Say on," replied the colonel.' "Wilt thou permit Timothy to superintend it for me?' inquired his friend. "With all my heart," replied the colonel; "and I will lend, you two or three more hands to help him, mon, and what you pay them shall be their own." - "That would-hardly be just to thyself; for thou art at no -small expense' with thy servants, I well .know," said Uriah; "and, if I mistake not, it would be economy in thee to pay them the common wages of the country and let them provide 'for themselves." "Perhaps so,": said .the colonel, smiling; "but it has been my desire to make my people as comfortable as my means would allow,: and -teach them habits of sobriety, thrift, and industry, so that, in case the day should come when they might be advantageously free legally, as they now are to- all practical purposes, they might be: pre- pared for lives .of ;happy usefulness." "May the Lord reward thee, my friend." said Uriah his voice 'quivering with ,emotion.- "So long as they are in thy -care, it matters not: to me whether they be called slaves; or: not; and lit matters nothings, o long aastihy page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, sons and daughters shall have charge of them, when thou art no more. I say again, may the Lord reward thee!" The matter was consummated that very day. Uriah became the owner of seventy acres of the manor-land, on terms which were fair and equitable. The first pro- position which the colonel made, his friend would not entertain, because he deemed them too generous to be just. Tip's desire was gratified. Before the winter set in, a snug cottage was built, which Uriah and Priscilla occupy in the summer months, thus continuing to culti- vate the friendship so agreeably formed. Tip. found a substitute for Bess in Nellie, who superintends his house- hold as his better-half, ruling the young Tips with a happy admixture of vigor and that discretion which is the fruit of maternal affection when properly tempered with prudence and thrift. In front of the lawn at the Old House, three years after the date of Uriah's purchase, seated under the shadow of a spreading tree, the colonel and Uriah- Arcades ambo--are cozily smoking a pipe, on the first afternoon of his friend's annual visit to White Oak; watching the blue wreaths as they curl through the air and vanish among the leaves, to the annoyance of all stray caterpillars that may have found a home upon that tree. Around them are four of the colonel's grand- children,-two of them calling Jeannie mamma, and vociferating with a vigor which proves them to be free from all pulmonary infirmity; whilst Saundy's boy sits on his grandfathers knee, and Andy's little girl is playing with the band of a broad-brimmed hat which lies beside Uiriah's chair. Tacey is there, in general charge of the flock; and her granrdson is rolling with Jeannie's oldest boy in a wrest. ling-match, extemporaneously instituted to get posses- WHTE OAK FARM. 825 sion of an orange which Master Arthur claims against his colored namesake and the world. Jeannie is still the same laughing girl, a little sobered, perhaps, by her maternal cares, but very little; and her blue eyes are radiant as ever with kindness and good- humor, her flaxen curls and blooming cheeks more beautiful in her husband's esteem than ever; and the toddling namesake miniature of herself, which swings by her hand in its first attempts to walk, is moving with outstretched hand towards grandpa's arm-chair. Ida and Helen are engaged in earnest conversation with friend Uriah, whilst Dame Priscilla is recovering from her fatigue in a quiet siesta in her apartment. Tip and Nellie have heard of "Massa Sneckum's" arrival; and, whilst Uriah is making inquiries concern- ing them, Timothy appears, riding at a sober gait upon the venerable horse which he used to curry and 'tend in Philadelphia, but which has since been transferred to Arcadia, as Master Sneckman calls his farm. In another minute Uriah has hold of Tip's hand, which he shakes most vigorously, inquiring, in the inter- vals between the spasms which jerk Tip's shoulder-joint, "How does thee do, Timothy? and how is thy wife, Timothy? and how is thy son Alexander?" "Hi! Massa Sneckum," replied Tip, "dey's mighty peart,-dey is so. And how is yourself, sa, and Mistis P'iscilly? Glad to see you back in Ole Virginny! De farm is doin' oncommon, masVtr." Meanwhile, the colonel quietly enjoys the interview between Uriah and Tip, and, telling the latter personage to call Basil, Ole Boss comes hitching from the stable. His hip seems somewhat more affected by rheumatism, and the old man has lost much of the elasticity which made him active despite his lameness until last winter. "Why, Bawsil, mon, ye're very lame the day," said 28 page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, his old master. "Why dinna ye stay at hame and tak' care o' yersel'?" "Ah, dat'll never do!" said the old man. i' If Basil stays in de house, nuffin goes right. De boys wants lookin' arter." "Aweel, mon, but ye maun tak' care o' yoursel', or ye'll no be able to look after 'em at a'," said his masteri unconsciously dropping into the Scotch dialect whenever he spoke familiarly. "Bawsil, you and I are almost worn out." "No, mast'r; dar's a heap o' work in ole Basil yit," said the faithful negro. "Na, mon, it's time for the likes of you and me to rest; and I'm thinkin' ye ought to be willing to let others do for you, instead of limping about the place when ye're no able to 'tend to matters. Sit doon here, mon; I want to have a bit talk wi' ye." Basil, with a somewhat awkward attempt to make an easy descent into the arm-chair, took the seat which his master designated, and the colonel continued:- "It's my wish, my' dear fellow, that you should no longer feel any burden of obligation pressing on you, except to rest. You've been a good and faithful servant and friend to me, old man; and, God knows, I have never wished to treat ye in any other way than as your fidelity has deserved," said his master. "What makes you talk so, mast'r?" said Basil. "You's allers been good to me, and Basil has jes' felt he'd live and die nowhars but wid you." "Na, na, Bawsil; ye'll no die with me, mon' I shall be home afore ye, I'm thinlin'; but that's as the good Lord appoints," said the colonel. "Ye'll find, Bawsil, when the old man is gone, that he's made provision for ye; and, if there's ony thing in this world I can 'do for you, tell me while I'm wi' ye. Ye set no store by yer free papers, for I offered 'em to ye twenty years ago; , WHTE OAK FARM. 327 and I've told ye -twenty times since, that you were as free as I am; but ye've stuck to me to the last, old man. And all I can say is, may the Lord reward you, and keep you by his grace, till you hear him say, 'Well done, good and faithful servant!'" Basil hung down his head, and shaded his rough features with his hand. And his master proceeded:- "Tell me, Bawsil, is there ony thing I can do for ye, mon?'" "Nuffin in dis worl', my dear ole mast'r, dat I knows on," replied Basil. ' I has all I want, and mo' beside. Only jes' allow me to hobble on, de bes' way I kin, and to 'minister 'scipline to de young uns when dey needs it, for I sometimes think dey's in danger ob sp'iling for want ob a leetle currekshin. Dat's all." ' Aweel, Bawsil, ye ken aboot that: I never was favorable to mony stripes,' said his master, smiling. "No, nor I isn't needer, mast'r. But jes' a few, now and den, helps some ob de keerless young uns anazin'; and I wants 'em to grow up so as to be a credit to deir trainin' when I's not about no mo' to look arter 'em," replied Basil. "Ye can settle that wi' Arthy, mon. He'll tell ye what's right, I've nae doot," replied his master. "I've a trifle here for ye, Bawsil, that'll maybe keep ye in mind of yer auld master when he's no here to bother ye about being punctual and the like." And, as he said this, the colonel put into the negro's hand a plain mo- rocco case, which he told him to open at his leisure. -' Take that, Bawsil, and may God bless you!" '( I's obleeged, mast'r, for dis and for a thousand kind things beside. But, deary me, my master!" exclaimed the negro, as his eye fell upon a handsome gold lever, with plain but costly appendages; "dis yer a^n't for Basil?" "It's for Bawsil," said the colonel; and, rising from page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 828 THE OLIVE-BRANCH; OR, his chair, he leaned upon Saundy's arm and requested to be led into the house. A single glance was sufficient to indicate that the colonel was threatened with one of the distressing at- tacks to which he was subject, and assistance was im- mediately rendered. He had scarcely been helped into the library, when he sank into the arms of his sons; and, in a few minutes, it was all over. "He is dead! exclaimed Saundy, pale with agitation and alarm. It is even so. The appliances of medical skill are vain now,-vain as the cries and sobs which are heard in every room in that old homestead. The wail of anguish that comes from the quarter is echoed over the -plantation, as the -panic spreads, and the terrible sen- tence is uttered which tells that "dear ole master is dead!"Alas! it is too true. One messenger confirms it, and then another; and the blow that has laid that white head low has bowed a hundred hearts with sor- row too big for utterance. And yet, death has come lovingly upon that pale face; there is nothing cruel or harsh in its victory. The call has been sudden, but not unexpected. He has gone, like a little child, into that dark shadow to meet a Father whom he fondly loved; and he sleeps well. The shadows of evening were lengthening, when a large concourse of weeping friends surrounded the open grave in the cemetery at White Oak. The coffin had been lowered, and Dr. Haddon attempted to speak a few words at the tomb of his beloved friend; but his voice failed. He bowed his head, and wept. One man alone could master his emotion. With a powerful effort at WHTE OAK FARM. 329 self-control, Uriah, standing with uncovered head at friend Ephraim's side, repeated, with a calm and solemn utterance, the impressive and appropriate prayer,--"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his?' THE END. page: 330-331 (Advertisement) [View Page 330-331 (Advertisement) ] J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS, "PPINCOTT'S PRONOITNCING GAZETTEER of THE WORLD, ORB GEOGRAPHCAL DICTIONARY, Comprising nearly 2200 Pages, including a greater amount of mat. ter than any other single volume in the English 'Language ; giving a description of nearly One Hundred Thousand Places, with the correct Pronunciation of their Names, being above 20,000 more Geographical Notices than are found in any other Gazetteer of the World. EDITED BY J. THOMAS, M D., and T. RAT .D'WN, Assisted by several other Gentlemen. TESTIMONIALS. Prom the Hon. Edward Everett. "This work- has been evidently prepared with great labor, and as- far as I an udSge from the best materials and sources of information. . . . The principles adopted in ascertaining the pronunciation of proper names (as stated in the Introduction) appear to me correct. This is a matter attended with some difficulty and uncer- tainty, but it is treated with great ability, and in a very satisfactory manner in your Introduction. I have no doubt your Gazetteer will be found an extremely useful work, well calculated to supply a want which must have been severely felt by almost every class of readers." From J. B. Worcester, L L.D., juthor:..^.^e sts Critical Dictionary. "Having made some examination of "'iyh Ponouncing Gazetteer; moroe particularly in relation to Pronunciation, 1 [ ta I ke : Oa i ressing a concurrence, generally, in what is said by the Hon. Edward r'b 1f thtei!bvalue and excellence of the work. The difficult subject of the prdonudnifai n ft 0geographical names ap- pears to me to have been attended to with great c1are good tasto, a nd eund judg- ment; and this feature of the Gazetteer must add greatly to its value." Prom the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop. "I know of no Gazetteer so Complete and comprehensive. . , . 1 entirely con- cur with Mr. Everettin the opinion be has pronounced of the work, and sincerely hope that it may receive an amount of public patronage in some degree commensu- rate with the magnitude and costliness of the undertaking." From Washi ng m IZtng. "I fully concur with the opinions given by Mr. Everett and Mr. Winthrop of its merits, and with their wishes for its wide circulation." Prom, Prof. . A. A. od , e m e, oditor of 'Raeised Oditn' of Web- ster's Dicionary. Your Pronouncing Gazetteer of the World appears, from the examination I have given it, to be a work of immense labor, very wisely directed. I consider it as of great importance to Teachers." PI-rom the. Hon. George Banrroft. - I nave rormed a very high opinion of the merits of your Complete Pronouncem Gazetteer; especially for its comprehensiveness, compactness, and general accuracy. t wish you the success which you so richly deserve." 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