“India!” ejaculated the young Southerner with fervor. “India!
“‘Oh! a woman! friend, a woman! Why, a beast had scarce been duller’
than to have harboured such a question! Fill high your glasses again, and
“‘’Twixt the red wine and the chalice’
let me breathe her beauty’s name. Gentlemen, are you ready?—The Pearl of Pearl River!”
“The Pearl of Pearl River!” responded Lauderdale.
“The Pearl of Pearl River!” re-echoed all those gay youths, as this toast was also quaffed standing, and the empty glasses rattled down upon the table.
This was the parting toast, and the company broke up to separate. The young guests all crowded around their youthful host with adieus, regrets, congratulations, and kind wishes; for all these opposite phrases were equally appropriate, as will be seen.
Mark Sutherland was the son and nephew of the celebrated Pearl River planters—the three brothers Sutherland. He was the prospective possessor of three immense estates—being the heir of the first, betrothed to the heiress of the second, and co-heir with her to the third extensive plantation. He had just concluded a brilliant collegiate course with distinguished honour; he was soon to return south, to enter upon his patrimony, and claim the hand of his affianced bride, before he set forth upon his European travels. And this was his valedictory entertainment, given to his classmates. For him, indeed—
“Filled was life’s goblet to the brim!”