The
little boy is much fairer than the brawny daughter who seems his
mother. Playful, and even mischievous, he delights in pulling the
hair which curls over his head; and when the woman calls him he
answers with a childish heedlessness, and runs for the door. Reader!
this woman's name is Ellen Juvarna; she has youth on her side, and
though she retains the name of her ancient sire, is proud of being
master's mistress. She tells us how comfortable she is; how
Nicholas, for such is his name, resembles his father, how he loves
him, but how he fails to acknowledge him. A feud, with its
consequences, is kept up between the two cabins; and while she makes
many insinuations about her rival, tells us she knows her features
have few charms. Meanwhile, she assures us that neither good looks
nor sweet smiles make good mothers. "Nicholas!" she exclaims, "come
here; the gentlemen want to know all about papa." And, as she
extends her hand, the child answers the summons, runs across the
room, fondles his head in his mother's lap,-seems ashamed!
CHAPTER II.
HOW A NIGHT WAS SPENT ON MARSTON'S PLANTATION.
EARTH is mantled with richest verdure; far away to the west and
south of the mansion the scene stretches out in calm grandeur. The
sun sinks beneath glowing clouds that crimson the horizon and spread
refulgent shadows on the distant hills, as darkness slowly steals
its way on the mellow landscape.
Motley groups of negroes are returned from the field, fires are
lighted in and about the cabins, and men mutter their curious jargon
while moving to prepare the coarse meal.
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