"To be sure. The son's title is an inherited one, like my friend Harvey's, who, now he is beginning to get a little gray, is 'the Judge,' I find, with everybody."
"And he looks it very well," said Barton. "I don't know whether it will go down farther."
"And the present Colonel is a new Revolutioner, probably," said the Doctor, inquiringly.
"I suppose some people might think he only followed after his father," Barton answered.
We were getting on delicate ground. Barton is no trimmer, but he is landlord of the Rapid Run. He made a diversion by inquiring after Orphy, and the Doctor gave him the account of their journey as he had given it to me,—yet not forgetting that he had given it to me. The same in substantial facts, his story was amplified and varied in details and in ornament, so that I heard it with as much interest as if it had been the first time.
"Is musical genius of the force of Orphy's common among the negroes of your plantations?" The Doctor addressed this question to me.
"Not common, certainly,—nor yet entirely singular. Almost all our large plantations have their minstrel, of greater or less talent. Your friend, Mr. Frank Harvey, has a boy on his place, who, if not equal to Orphy, has yet a remarkable gift. Did not Mr. Harvey speak to you of him?"
"I dare say. He had several prodigies of different kinds to exhibit to us. But we were there so short a time! He introduced us to a blacksmith of genius; to a specimen of ugliness supposed to be the most superior extant,—out of Guinea; and to a few other notabilities. But we had hardly time to see even the place itself, which really offers a great deal to admire. I could have given a few more days to it, but I saw that Harry was in a hurry to be off."