one to _church_."

The church, Parson Tombs's, was packed. Men were not few, yet the pews
and the aisles, choked with chairs from end to end, were one yeast of
muslins, lawns, and organdies, while everywhere the fans pulsed and
danced a hundred measures at once in fascinating confusion.

In the amen pews on the right sat all Montrose; facing them, on the
left, sat all Rosemont, except the principal; Garnet was with the pastor
in the pulpit. The Governor of Dixie was present; the first one they of
the old _regime_ had actually gotten into the gubernatorial chair since
the darkies had begun to vote. Two members of the Governor's staff sat
in a front pew in uniform; blue!

"See that second man on the left?" whispered Captain Shotwell to an old
army friend from Charleston; "that handsome felleh with the wavy auburn
hair, soft mustache, and big, sawt o' pawnderin' eyes?"

"What! that the Governor? He can't be over thirty or thirty-one!"

"Governor, no! _he_ wouldn't take the governorship; that's Jeff-Jack
Ravenel, editor of the _Courier_, a-ablest man in Dixie. No, that's the
Governor next to him."

"That old toad? Why, he's a moral hulk; look at his nose!"

"Yes, it's a pity, but we done the best we could--had to keep the
alignment, you know. His brother leases and sublets convicts, five
stockades of 'em, and ought to be one himself.

"These girls inside the altar-rail, they're the academy chorus. That
one? Oh, that's Halliday's daughter. Yass, beautiful, but you should 'a'
seen her three years ago. No use talkin', seh--I wouldn't say so to a
Yankee, but--ow climate's hard on beauty. Teach in the acad'? Oh! no,
seh, she jus' sings with 'em. Magnificent voice. Some Yankees here last
week allowed they'd ruther hear her than Adelina Patti--in some sawngs.

"She's an awful man-killeh; repo'ted engaged to five fellehs at once,
Jeff-Jack included. I don't know whether it's true or not, but you know
how ow Dixie gyirls ah, seh. An' yet, seh, when they marry, as they all
do, where'll you find mo' devoted wives? This ain't the lan' o'
divo'ces, seh; this is the lan' o' loose engagements an' tight
marriages.

"D' you see that gyirl in the second row of Montroses, soft eyes, sawt
o' deep-down roguish, round, straight neck, head set so nice on it?
That's Gyarnet's daughteh. That gyirl's not as old as she looks, by
three years."

He ceased. The chorus under the high pulpit stood up, sang, and sat
again. Parson Tombs, above