zza?"
continued the old negro.

"Yes, uncle, and thank you," and in a moment I had received the cordial
welcome of the host, an elderly gentleman, whose easy and polished
manners reminded me of the times of our grandfathers in glorious New
England. A few minutes put me on a footing of friendly familiarity with
him and his family, and I soon found myself in a circle of daughters and
grandchildren, and as much at home as if I had been a long-expected
guest.

[Footnote A: The emblem of South Carolina.]

CHAPTER II.

WAYSIDE HOSPITALITY.

Years ago--how many it would not interest the reader to know, and might
embarrass me to mention--accompanied by a young woman--a blue-eyed,
golden-haired daughter of New-England--I set out on a long journey; a
journey so long that it will not end till one or the other of us has
laid off forever the habiliments of travel.

One of the first stations on our route was--Paris. While there,
strolling out one morning alone, accident directed my steps to the _Arc
d'Etoile_, that magnificent memorial of the greatness of a great man.
Ascending its gloomy staircase to the roof, I seated myself, to enjoy
the fine view it affords of the city and its environs.

I was shortly joined by a lady and gentleman, whose appearance indicated
that they were Americans. Some casual remark led us into a conversation,
and soon, to our mutual surprise and gratification, we learned that the
lady was a dear and long-time friend of my travelling-companion. The
acquaintance thus begun, has since grown into a close and abiding
friendship.

The reader, with this preamble, can readily imagine my pleasure on
learning, as we were seated after our evening meal, around that pleasant
fireside in far-off Carolina, that my Paris acquaintance was a favorite
niece, or, as he warmly expressed it, "almost a daughter" of my host.
This discovery dispelled any lingering feeling of "strangeness" that had
not vanished with the first cordial greeting of my new-found friends,
and made me perfectly "at home."

The evening wore rapidly away in a free interchange of "news," opinions,
and "small-talk," and I soon gathered somewhat of the history of my
host. He was born at the North, and his career affords a striking
illustration of the marvellous enterprise of our Northern character. A
native of the State of Maine, he emigrated thence when a young man, and
settled down, amid the pine-forest in that sequestered part of
Cottond