"He'm gwine to gwo, massa, and want to say good-by to you."
It seemed madness for Scip to start on a journey of seventy miles without rest, so I requested the Colonel to let him remain till the next day. He cheerfully assented, and sent Jim to find him. While waiting for the darky, I spoke of how faithfully he had served me during my journey.
"He's a splendid nigger," replied the Colonel; "worth his weight in gold. If affairs were more settled I would buy him."
"But Colonel A—— tells me he is too intelligent. He objects to 'knowing' niggers."
"I do not," replied my host, "if they are honest, and I would trust Scip with uncounted gold. Look at him," he continued, as the negro approached; "were flesh and bones ever better put together?"
The darky was a fine specimen of sable humanity, and I readily understood why the practiced eye of the Colonel appreciated his physical developments.
"Scip," I said, "you must not think of going to-day; the Colonel will be glad to let you remain until you are fully rested."
"Tank you, massa, tank you bery much, but de ole man will spec' me, and I orter gwo."
"Oh, never mind old——," said the Colonel, "I'll take care of him."
"Tank you, Cunnel, den I'll stay har till de mornin'."