'Why not? She'll breed like a rabbit.' * * * * *
'I wouldn't own her for the whole State: if I had her, I'd free her on the spot!' The cool bestiality of the trader disgusted me, and I forgot myself.
He started back surprised; then quietly remarked: 'Ye're a Nutherner, I swar; no corncracker ever held sech doctrines as them.'
'Yes,' I replied, dropping the accent, which my blunder had rendered useless; 'I am a Northerner; but I want a nurse, notwithstanding, for a friend.'
'Whar d'ye live?' asked the trader, in the same free, good-natured tone as before.
'In New York.'
'In York! What! Yer not Mr. Kirke, of Randall, Kirke & Co.? But, blamenation, ye ar! How them whiskers has altered ye! I thort I'd seed ye afore. Haint ye come it over me slick? Tuk in clean, swallered hull. But thar's my hand, Mr. Kirke; I'm right glad ter see ye.'
'Where have you met me, my good fellow? I don't remember you.'
'Down ter Orleans. Seed ye inter Roye, Struthers & Co.'s. The ole man thinks a heap o' you; ye give 'em a pile of business, doan't ye.'
'No, not much of our own. They buy cotton for our English correspondents, and negotiate through us, that is all. Roye is a fine old gentleman.'