THE PLANTATION HOUSE OF " FAK AWAY." 63 



white, sandy soil around the house, and the few out-build- 

 ings that straggled hither and yon. Fences there were 

 none, but the overshadowing live oaks, with their trail- 

 ing moss, gave an air of grace to the establishment that 

 man never attempted to improve. 



"HuUoa!" cheered the lord of the manor, as we drew 

 up to the house a few days after our misadventure with 

 the sheep; "glad to see you at Far Away. The 

 door is never shut, and the bottle never corked, and we 

 will make you at home for a year and a day. You Tom ! 

 Cuff! You Cuff! Hannibal! here, run call the boys to 

 take the horses and tie up the hounds. Run, all of you ! 

 Fine day, this, for hunting. Bring out some glasses, 

 Melissa ! Dogs can nose well to-day. Lively th'ere ! 

 Well, bring some tin cups, if there are no glasses, you 

 lazy huzzy !" 



The negroes ran, our dogs howled acquaintance with 

 the dogs of the place, the little nigs looked on from every 

 out-of the-way corner, and with shout, and laugh, and 

 much confusion, we soon had our tent pitched by the 

 spring, the ponies tethered, and everything well regu- 

 lated about us. Then came a good dinner, cooked in one 

 of those little disconnected kitchens so favored by your 

 true darky cook, who, when not engaged in stirring the 

 pepper pot, or turning the corn-bread, stands in her red 

 bandana in the doorway with her arms akimbo, looming 

 as large as the wonderful fat woman in the Museum. 

 We brought game, and Jackson had cooks, «nd we all 

 dined well, and then a glass of good old wine, whose 



