CHAPTER II

Getting up A subscription school

Next morning before daybreak Mr. Wilmot was aroused from a sound slumber by what he thought was the worst noise he had ever heard.  He instantly concluded that the house was on fire, and springing up, endeavored to find his clothes, but in the deep darkness of the room such a thing was impossible; so he waited a while and tried to find out what the noise could be.

At last it assumed something of a definite form, and he found it was the voice of a man calling out in thunder-like tones, “Ho, Jebediah!  Come out with ye!  Do you hear?  Are you coming?”

Then followed a long catalogue of names, such as Sam, Joe, Jack, Jim, Ike, Jerry, Nehemiah, Ezariah, Judy, Tilda, Martha, Rachel, Luce and Phema, and at the end of each name was the same list of questions which had preceded that of Jebediah; and ever from the negro quarters came the same response, “Yes, marster, comin’.”

By this time all the hens, geese, turkeys and dogs were wide awake and joining their voices in the chorus, made the night, or rather the morning, hideous with their outcries.  At last the noise subsided.  Silence settled around the house and Wilmot tried to compose himself to sleep.  When he again awoke the sun was shining brightly into his room.  He arose and dressed himself, but felt in no hurry to see “his host,” who had come home, he was sure, and had given such tremendous demonstrations of the strength of his lungs.

Mr. Wilmot finally descended to the sitting room, where the first object which presented itself was a man who was certainly six and a half feet high, and large in proportion.  His face was dark and its natural color was increased by a beard of at least four weeks’ growth!  He had on his head an old slouched hat, from under which a few gray locks were visible.  As soon as Wilmot appeared, the uncouth figure advanced toward him, and seizing his hand, gave a grip, which, if continued long, would certainly have crushed every bone!  He began with—­

“Well, so you are Mr. Wilmot from New York, hey?  Of course a red-hot Abolitionist, but I don’t care for that if you’ll only keep your ideas to yourself and not try to preach your notions to me.  I’ve heard of you before.”

“Heard of me, sir?” said Mr. Wilmot in surprise.

“Yes, of you; and why not?  Thar’s many a man, not as good as you, judging by your looks, has had a hearing in his day; but, however, I haint heard of you by the papers.  As I was coming home last night I got along to old man Edson’s, and I seen him swarin’ and tarin’ round so says I, ’Ho, old man, what’s the row?’ ‘Oh,’ says he, ’that you, Middleton?  Nuff’s the row.  I’ve done let my best horse and nigger go off with a man from the free States, who said he’s going to your house, and here ’tis after nine and Jim not at home yet.  Of course they’ve put out for the river.’