Toasts, compliments, and piquant squibs, follow the wine-cup. Then
came that picture of southern life which would be more worthy of
praise if it were carried out in the purity of motive:--as soon as
the party had finished, the older members, in their turn, set about
preparing a repast for the servants. This seemed to elate the
negroes, who sat down to their meal with great pomp, and were not
restrained in the free use of the choicest beverage. While this was
going on, Marston ordered Rachel to prepare fruit and pastry for
Ellen and Clotilda. "See to them; and they must have wine too,"
whispered Marston.
"I know's dat, old Boss," returned Rachel, with a knowing wink.
After the collation, the party divided into different sections. Some
enjoyed the dance, others strolled through the pine-grove,
whispering tales of love. Anglers repaired to the deep pond in quest
of trout, but more likely to find water-snakes and snapping turtles.
Far in the distance, on the right, moving like fairy gondolas
through the cypress-covered lagoon, little barks skim the dark
surface. They move like spectres, carrying their fair freight,
fanned by the gentle breeze pregnant with the magnolia' sweet
perfume. The fair ones in those tiny barks are fishing; they move
from tree to tree trailing their lines to tempt the finny tribe
here, and there breaking the surface with their gambols.
Lorenzo, as we have before informed the reader, exhibited signs of
melancholy during the day.
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