ve us a very low estimate of the trustworthiness of
the inhabitants. The valley is wild and very pretty all the way down to
Colonel Long's,--twelve miles,--but the wretched-looking people along
the way live in a wretched manner.

Just before reaching Colonel Long's we forded the stream (here of
good size), the bridge having tumbled down, and encountered a party of
picnickers under the trees--signs of civilization; a railway station is
not far off. Colonel Long's is a typical Southern establishment: a white
house, or rather three houses, all of one story, built on to each other
as beehives are set in a row, all porches and galleries. No one at home
but the cook, a rotund, broad-faced woman, with a merry eye, whose very
appearance suggested good cooking and hospitality; the Missis and the
children had gone up to the river fishing; the Colonel was somewhere
about the place; always was away when he was wanted. Guess he'd take us
in, mighty fine man the Colonel; and she dispatched a child from a cabin
in the rear to hunt him up. The Colonel was a great friend of her folks
down to Greenville; they visited here. Law, no, she didn't live here.
Was just up here spending the summer, for her health. God-forsaken lot
of people up here, poor trash. She wouldn't stay here a day, but the
Colonel was a friend of her folks, the firstest folks in Greenville.
Nobody round here she could 'sociate with. She was a Presbyterian, the
folks round here mostly Baptists and Methodists. More style about the
Presbyterians. Married? No, she hoped not. She did n't want to support
no husband. Got 'nuff to do to take care of herself. That her little
girl? No; she'd only got one child, down to Greenville, just the
prettiest boy ever was, as white as anybody. How did she what? reconcile
this state of things with not being married and being a Presbyterian?
Sho! she liked to carry some religion along; it was mighty handy
occasionally, mebbe not all the time. Yes, indeed, she enjoyed her
religion.

The Colonel appeared and gave us a most cordial welcome. The fat and
merry cook blustered around and prepared a good dinner, memorable for
its "light" bread, the first we had seen since Cranberry Forge. The
Colonel is in some sense a public man, having been a mail agent, and
a Republican. He showed us photographs and engravings of Northern
politicians, and had the air of a man who had been in Washington. This
was a fine country for any kind of fruit,--apples, gra