ation. But
our dinner was over, and Mrs. Winters had retired, with Master Henry
Clay Winters, ere he had half satisfied my curiosity.

Winters had left N----, the little county-town in Middle Ohio, where I
had known him, in the spring of 1845, and had begun to travel as agent
for a marble dealer of Pittsburgh, Pa. In this capacity he had roamed
over all the Western States during several years, had made extensive
acquaintances, and been rubbed against the world until he had acquired
great knowledge of mankind and habits of self-reliance, without much of
that polish of manner which worldly attrition usually gives a man. He
was at that time between twenty-five and thirty years of age, in perfect
health, and of herculean strength. He was considerably over six feet in
height, compactly built, and that consciousness of power which such
favored individuals possess, rendered him, in a great measure,
indifferent to the opinions of others. Without any of the refinement
which careful culture and early training confer, it is not to be
wondered at that Tom was not 'over-particular' as to the society in
which he ventured, or what profession he followed.

He had also been captain of a canal-packet, a drover, a deputy-sheriff,
a general collector, and had first married in Kentucky, and settled at
Lexington, where he had spent four years. There his wife died, without
leaving children, and Tom was afloat upon the world again. Then he had
spent two years in Mississippi; returned to Lexington, went to
Cincinnati; 'and since then,' he continued, 'I have lived in every
county on this side in succession, and have been here four years since I
married my present wife; so that you see the seventeen years is now
filled up, and you know my whole history.'

'But what were you doing in Mississippi?' I inquired.

For the first time Tom hesitated; and he answered, with an uneasy
expression and a furtive glancing about of his keen hazel eye, that he
had been an overseer on a plantation.

'The devil!' I exclaimed, rather abruptly.

'It is a fact,' said the plain-spoken Tom, looking seriously into his
empty glass, then adding apologetically:

'What should I care about it? I had lived a long time in Kentucky, and
been accustomed to slavery as it existed there. Besides, I am a
Marylander by birth. I said slavery was right, and I believed it. My
wife was dead; I had little means left, and cared for nothing.

'I had become acquainted with Luke Memin