"I will never leave you," was his reply to everything I urged.
"You must, John! You must go home to your father in Norfolk. He will advise you."
"The old man is in the oyster business," said John. "What do I care about oysters? All I care for is Marse Roger and these boys."
I knew that my poor John had an infirmity. Once when I had sent him with Alick from Cottage Farm on an errand he had returned very late. I could see the pair walking down the road alone, followed at some distance by the horse and wagon. They seemed to be trying to compass both sides of the road at once. Alick was the first to report to me, with these words:—
"I—I-ain' drunk,—but Jawn! Jawn, he ve'y drunk!"
This painful scene had been reënacted often enough to make me anxious.
"You really must go to your father, John," I insisted. "How much money have you?" He had five dollars. I also had five, which I gave him.
"Now don't let me see you again," I said. "Write to me from Norfolk."
He left, protesting, but next morning he was gone. I heard from him soon and from his father. The old gentleman expressed gratitude and also some anxiety about John's "army habits."
And so no more of the only slave I ever owned!