[K] No regular dinner-hour is allowed the blacks on most turpentine plantations. Their food is usually either taken with them to the woods, or carried there by house servants, at stated times.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BURIAL OF "JULE."
The family were at supper when I returned to the mansion, and, entering the room, I took my accustomed place at the table. None present seemed disposed to conversation. The little that was said was spoken in a low, subdued tone, and no allusion was made to the startling event of the day. At last the octoroon woman asked me if I had met Mrs. Barnes at the farmer's.
"Yes," I replied, "and I was greatly pleased with her. She seems one of those rare women who would lend grace to even the lowest station."
"She is a rare woman; a true, sincere Christian. Every one loves her; but few know all her worth; only those do who have gone to her in sorrow and trial, as—" and her voice trembled, and her eyes moistened—"as I have."
And so that poor, outcast, despised, dishonored woman, scorned and cast-off by all the world, had found one sympathizing, pitying friend. Truly, "He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb."
When the meal was over, all but Madam P—— retired to the library. Tommy and I fell to reading, but the Colonel shortly rose and continued pacing up and down the apartment till the clock sounded eight. The lady then entered, and said to him.
"The negroes are ready, David; will you go, Mr. K——?"