"Consideration or impudence, one of the other—but I'll let it pass. All right, now," he added, tightening his bridle-rein to ride away, "remember your part of the contract and I'll remember mine."
Old Jason, at the head of the men in the field, censured me for passing so much time on the road, and old Steve, humorous rascal, gave a broad grin as he looked upon the whisky and swore that he didn't think that I had passed anything on the road; that everything had passed me. Old Master came walking up to the clump of alder bushes under which a number of the hands had gathered to "blow" in the shade, and after making a pretense of drinking with them, told me to walk to the house with him. With what envy the black men regarded me as I strode off beside the man who held their destiny in the hollow of his hand! Looking back I could see many a dark frown. Among the blacks the "yaller man" was never a favorite. An attempt to be refined and especially a smattering of learning invoked contempt from the sturdy yeoman of the negro quarter.
"They are not so mighty fond of you," said Old Master as we walked along. His old eyes had caught the expression of their disfavor.
"No, sir, and I am sorry, for I would give much for their good opinion."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, my boy. It is a true proof of a gentlemanly instinct. The coarse-grained man holds himself above the opinion of those far below him, but a gentleman would value the good will of a dog. By the way, have you seen the doctor to-day?"
"I think, sir, that I saw him in the road as I was coming from the distillery."
It was some time before he spoke again, walking along with his gaze bent upon the ground. "Dan"—and he looked up at me, "do you remember the time you threw the tumbler on his head?"
"As well as if it were but an hour ago," I answered.
"If you had seen him this morning you would have felt like striking him a harder blow," he said. "We had a quarrel and my old blood was so stirred that I was almost tempted to cut his throat. He made a demand on me for more money than I could really afford to give—the scoundrel, I have given him already far more than his share—and was insulting when I refused him. Your Mistress has been brought to see him in his true light and I have her consent to drive him away and I'll do it. He calmed down and apologized, but I told him that he must leave within a day or two, and he'll have to. I can't stand him any longer."
"Master, I don't see how you could have stood him so long."