he loved to keep it all as he had made it at first,
save that now and again pleasant little additions were made, and the
comforts of civilisation were not forgotten.

But as time went on, and I grew up, my pleasant life there had to come
to an end, and I was obliged to go out into the world as became a man.

It was my great delight though as the years rolled on to get down south
for a month's stay at the old place, and with Hannibal and Pomp for
companions, and an Indian or two for guides, to penetrate the wilds for
days and days together, boating, fishing, shooting, and studying the
glories of the wondrous water-ways of the forest and swamps.

Such trips seemed always fresh, and when I returned there was the
delightful old home in which my father had elected to end his days; and
I picture one of those scenes outside the embowered house with its broad
veranda, and the pretty cottages a couple of hundred yards away beyond
the noble garden, Morgan's pride. The home was simple still, for my
father did not increase his establishment, save that a couple of young
black girls elected to come from the settlement to place themselves
under old Sarah's management.

I should not have mentioned this but for one little incident which took
place two years after.

I had been in England for a long stay, and at the termination of my
visit I had taken passage, landed at the settlement, made a hasty call
on two old friends, and then walked across to my father's, where, after
my warm welcome from within doors, including a kiss from our Sarah for
the great swarthy man she always would call "My dear boy," I went out to
have my hand crunched by grey-headed old Morgan, and to grasp old
Hannibal's broad palm as well.

"Why, where's Pomp?" I said.

"Him heah, Mass' George," was shouted from the direction of one of the
cottages. "I come, sah, but she juss like 'tupid lil nigger. Come
'long, will you; Mass' George won't eat you."

I opened my eyes a little as I recognised in the smart, pleasant-looking
black girl by his side, Salome, one of the maids I had seen at the
cottage before I sailed for Europe.

"Why, Pomp," I said, laughing, "what does this mean?"

"Dab juss what I tell her, Mass' George," he cried. "I know you be
quite please, on'y she all ashame and foolis like."

"But, Pomp, my good fellow, you don't mean--"

"Oh yes, I do, Mass' George; and I know you be dreffle glad--dat my
wife."

Yes; I can picture it all--tha