"Ah! The valise."
"Valise you call it? Here we only use the saddle-bags."
"I know it. I prefer the valise, as you see. I acknowledge your saddle-bags may be more convenient; but they are also more heating to the horse, and for that reason I incline to stick to my valise."
"Ha! I perceive you are a true traveler; and since you say you are journeying only to see the country, you can not be much pressed for time. I have made you acquainted with the inside of a Tennessee prison. I hope you will permit me to introduce you to something not quite so gloomy—a Tennessee cotton plantation. Perhaps you have not yet visited one?"
"It is very kind of you," I replied, more than ever impressed with the courtesy of my new acquaintance. "In truth, I have never seen a cotton plantation in my life."
"Well, if you will place yourself under my guidance, I shall be most happy to show you mine, or my father's I should rather call it. It is not one of the largest, nor do we have cotton plantations in such perfection as you will see them further south—in Alabama and Mississippi. We are here on the northern edge of the cotton-growing climate, and the plants sometimes suffer from the frosts. Ours, however, will enable you to form some idea of one of the chief sources of Tennessee wealth; and I shall have much pleasure in taking you over it."
I accepted the invitation. It was, indeed, furnishing me with an opportunity I had intended seeking; for although, further south, I had made some acquaintance with sugar and tobacco plantations, I was yet ignorant of the mode by which the great commercial staple of the Southern States is produced and prepared for the market.
I could not help repeating my thanks for such kindness shown to a stranger—as I expressed it.
"Well, sir," was the reply, accompanied by a significant smile, "I have been, perhaps, taking an unfair advantage of you. You are not altogether such a stranger to me, though I only know you through another."
"Another! Who?"