"Ye ar welcome, stranger."
"I sincerely thank you, madam; I am a stranger in these parts."
She tendered me a chair, while her husband opened a sideboard, and brought forth a box of Havanas, and a decanter of Scuppernong. As I took the proffered seat, he offered me the refreshments. I drank the lady's health in the wine, but declined the cigars. Seeing this, she remarked:
"Yer from th' North, sir; arn't ye?"
"Yes, madam, I live in New York, but I was born in New-England."
"I reckoned so; I knew ye didn't belong in Car'lina."
"How did you know that, madam?" I asked, laughing.
"I seed ye doan't smoke 'fore wimmin. But ye musn't mind me; I sort o' likes it; its a great comfut to John, and may be it ar to ye."
"Well, I do relish a good cigar, but I never smoke before any lady except my wife, and though she's only 'a little lower than the angels,' she does, once in awhile, say it's a shame to make the house smell like a tobacco factory."
Barnes handed me the box again, and I took one. As I was lighting it, he said: