A Woman Rice Planter

by Elizabeth W. Allston Pringle

March 3.

Have not been able to drive Marietta, because the road cart had gone to be mended, but to-day sent Dab up to get it. Have had a great deal to worry me. I had a letter from the matron to tell me that my poor, dear little darky Rab is ill of typhoid pneumonia. She says he calls for me all the time, and asked her every day if she had written, so she had to write. Last week I sold a steer to a man for $13. He declared he had the money or I would not have sold the steer. To-day he arrived, bringing $4, with voluminous promises of the rest in a month's time—it will probably be six months before I see the rest of the money if ever, and now I want to send money for Rab's illness.

I took Chloe to Casa Bianca to serve luncheon.

March 5.

I sewed until 11:30 and then Gibbie brought the colt. It was a perfect day and a joy to be going out with Marietta again. She threatened trouble at the gate, but Gibbie ran to her head and I gave her one or two sharp cuts with the whip and she went on, rather sulkily however, so I had Gibbie walk ahead as far as the bridge, but did not see until I was just up to the bridge a huge flat with a house on it, a great smoke coming out of a pipe on top, half under the bridge. I called to the man angrily to come out and speak. Marietta seemed squatting with a view to some desperate action, and there was nothing I could do. I could not force her over the bridge in a state of fright—it would have been most unwise—it would have been equally unwise to turn around even if I could have done it, so I appeared to have forgotten her and told the man it was against the law to tie his flat under the bridge in that way, that it was enough to frighten any horse, and that was actionable, and besides that it was very bad for the bridge, which was a great expense to the county, so that he could be indicted on two counts. I was delighted with my fluency and at its effect on the man, but kept my eye on Marietta, who was on the point of wheeling but was too much interested to carry out her intention. The darky was most apologetic and polite and explained that it was not by his desire he was a fixture under the bridge, but that he had stuck there as he tried to get through.

"Worse and worse," I said, "as the tide rises you will carry off the bridge entirely!"

He did not know that I was talking really for the galleries, which meant the colt, though I felt provoked with the man for trying to get under the bridge with a flat too broad and a two-story house, you might say, on top—my own bridge over the same creek had been carried off in that way two or three years ago, and I found it would cost $200, too much, to have it put back, so that my sheep and cattle are entirely cut off from 300 acres of woods pasture, and that is a great loss to me; still I know too well the futility of words under such circumstances and it was merely to make time for Marietta to take in the unusual sight—the man explained that he hoped the tide would not rise any more and that when it began to fall he would try to back out and not undertake to get through again. I asked if there was any one else in the flat. He said yes. "Tell them to come out and let me see them and hear their names." So a man and a boy came out and stood on top of the house in the smoke and I lectured them as to the great blessing of having sense and using it. By this time Marietta was so deeply interested that she relaxed entirely and at once I shook the reins and told her to go over, which she did as quietly as possible, which I think was wonderful. I don't believe any power would have taken either of the other horses over, but Marietta is so reasonable. I took a long drive and by the time I came back the flat had gone.

March 7.