Patty could not keep still very long, and began to question Annis as to what the Kentucky home was like, and if she was glad or sorry to leave it. There had been only Seth Bowers, who worked the farm, and an Indian woman to help about the house, but just across a little yard space the Browns had lived, and beyond were the stockade and the blockhouse. Then the log houses were ranged around.
"But were you not afraid?" asked Patty. "Suppose the Indians had come?"
"All the Indians about were friendly. We were not afraid of them."
"But what did you spend your time at—if you didn't go to school?"
"Mother taught me. Sally Brown came in when she wasn't too busy, and we studied. Mrs. Brown spun and knit, and Adam Dodge had a loom where he wove cloth. Oh, there were a great many things!"
"A hard life it was for you," and Mr. Mason glanced at his wife's countenance, which had fallen into thoughtful lines.
"There have been many pioneers," she returned with a half-smile. "Virginia is full of their graves. And the northern coasts. Our people were wiser. They chose a less rigorous clime."
"True. The story North and South is full of romance. But, then, what country is not? The old Romans colonized, sometimes very cruelly, tearing people from their homes. We came of our free will, except such as were redemptioners."
"And slaves," in a low tone.
"That is a serious question," and the squire's rugged brows knit. "That they are better off is beyond cavil. In their own land they fight and destroy each other, make slaves, and many tribes are no doubt cannibals. The President has always considered it bad for the country. But we have needed labor. And in Bible times men were permitted to enslave other nations. The dominant race gets the upper hand, and it is right that knowledge and improvement should have a chance against ignorance and degeneracy. But this is a somber talk for such a fair day. Look! Over yonder is the Capital."