Miles Wallingford eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 608 pages of information about Miles Wallingford.

Miles Wallingford eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 608 pages of information about Miles Wallingford.
travelling through life, all the same as if he was left with a few pigs on a desert island.  Make-believe is much made use of in this world, but it won’t hold out to the last.  Now of all mortal beings that I ever met with, you’ve fallen in with her that has least of it.  There’s some make-believe about you, Miles, as when you looked so bloody unconcerned all the time you were ready to die of love, as I now l’arn, for the young woman you’re about to marry:  and mother has a little of it, dear old soul, when she says she’s perfectly satisfied with the son the Lord has given her, for I’m not so blasted virtuous but I might be better; and little Kitty has lots of it when she pretends she would as soon have one kiss from me as two from young Bright; but, as for Lucy Hardinge, I will say that I never saw any more make-believe about her, than was becoming in a young woman.”

This speech proved that Moses was a man of observation.  Others might have drawn seemingly nicer shades of character, but this sincerity of feeling, truth of conduct, and singleness of purpose, formed the distinguishing traits of Lucy’s virtues.  I was excessively gratified at finding that Marble rightly appreciated one who was so very, very dear to me, and took care to let him know as much, as soon as he had made his speech.

We were met by the negroes, at the distance of half a mile from the house.  Neb acted as master of the ceremonies, or, commodore would be the better word, for he actually carried a bit of swallow-tail bunting that was borrowed from the sloop, and there was just as much of ocean in the symbols used, as comported with the honours manifested to a seaman.  Old Cupid carried the Wallingford’s ensign, and a sort of harlequinade had been made out of marlinspikes, serving mallets, sail-maker’s palms, and fids.  The whole was crowned with a plug of tobacco, though I never used the weed, except in segars.  Neb had seen processions in town, as well as in foreign countries, and he took care that the present should do himself no discredit.  It is true, that he spoke to me of it afterwards as a “nigger procession,” and affected to hold it cheap; but I could see that the fellow was as much pleased with the conceits he had got up for the occasion, as he was mortified at the failure of the whole thing.  The failure happened in this wise:  no sooner did I approach near enough to the elder blacks to have my features fairly recognised, than the women began to blubber, and the men to toss their arms and shout “Masser Mile,” “Masser Mile;” thereby throwing everything into confusion, at once placing feeling uppermost, at the expense of ‘law and order.’

To descend from the stilts that seemed indispensable to do credit to Neb’s imagination, the manner in which I was received by these simple-minded beings was infinitely touching.  All the old ones shook hands with me, while the younger of both sexes kept more aloof, until I went to each in succession, and went through the ceremony of my own accord.  As for the boys, they rolled over on the grass, while the little girls kept making curtsies, and repeating “welcome home to Clawbonny, Masser Mile.”  My heart was full, and I question if any European landlord ever got so warm a reception from his tenantry, as I received from my slaves.

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Miles Wallingford from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.