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rs of the bayou. Dandy, as we have before remarked, was a youth of quick parts, and under the scientific instruction of Mr. Midshipman Raybone, he had thoroughly mastered the art of boating, not only in its application to row boats, but also in reference to sailing craft; and there was no person on the place more skilful in the management of the schooner than the body-servant of Master Archy. The Edith flew on her course, frightening from their repose the herons and the alligators that were enjoying the sunshine of the bright spring morning. Master Archy did speak sometimes, but this morning he was unusually taciturn. He seemed to be brooding over something: those who did not know him might have supposed that he was thinking; but the son and heir of Redlawn did not often give himself up to meditation in its higher sense. It was more likely that he was wondering what he should do next, for time hung heavy on his hands. He had nothing to do but amuse himself, and he had completely exhausted his slender ingenuity in devising new amusements. "Stop her," said he, languidly, after the boat had gone about two miles. Dandy obeyed the order without a question, and the Edith soon floated listlessly on the water, waiting the pleasure of her magnificent owner. "Back to the pier," added Archy; and under the orders of her skilful coxswain, she was put about, and darted up the river on her return. The shining ebony face of the great Athenian philosopher's namesake looked glum and discontented. He was not satisfied with the order; but not being a free agent, he was cruelly deprived of the luxury of grumbling. Roaming in the cane-brake, or sunning himself on a log like the juvenile alligators, while Master Archy took his walk, or even pulling the boat, was much more to his taste than rubbing down the horses and digging weeds out of the gravel walks in front of the mansion. The order to return, therefore, was a grievous disappointment to him; for the head gardener or the head groom would be sure to find a job for him that would last all day. Master Archy did not know his own mind; and he did not have the same mind for a great while at a time. Cyd supposed he had thought of something that would please him better on the estate. No doubt if the surfeited young devotee of pleasure had permitted his dark companions to think for him, they might have invented a new pleasure; but he seldom spoke to them, and they were not allowed t
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