"Yes; we are building a boat for that purpose."
"Best way in the world. Far the best. No expense, no hauling, no freight charges of any kind. Besides, the steamers are eternally getting blown up. There's half a score of them bu'st their boilers last season. Recommend me to the good old-fashioned flat. I always send my truck to Orleans that way, and would do so even if I could tumble the bales into a steamboat right off the plantation press. Last flat I sent down fetched me as lumber enough to pay all the expenses of takin' it there. Come straight from Nashville?"
"Yes."
"Know if there's any boat about starting for below?"
"I haven't heard."
"Hope there is. I want to get down to Mississip. I only run up for a little business I had in Nash, and thought when so near, I might as well run out and have a look at the old diggin's on the Duck. Corneel's out there, ain't she?"
"Yes. My sister is with us."
"Of course I didn't see her, as your old man and I hain't been on the square ever since that—you know—. D——d hot, ain't it?"
The last remark appeared to be by way of changing the subject, which I could see was not at all agreeable to my young companion.
"Very hot," was the assenting reply.