4 NORTH CAROLINA 



little past noon, the porter appeared with 

 his brush. " Seneca is next," he said. I 

 alighted in lonely state, was escorted to 

 the hotel, did my best with a luncheon, — 

 gleaned bit by bit out of an outlying wilder- 

 ness of small dishes, — and at the earliest 

 moment took my seat in a " buggy " beside 

 a colored boy who was to drive me to Wal- 

 halla, nine miles away. At that point I was 

 to be met, the next morning, by the carriage 

 that should convey me into the mountains. 



Seneca is a smallish place, but my colored 

 driver was no countryman. " Boston ? " 

 Yes, yes ; he had lived there once himself. 

 He had been a Pullman porter. " But you 

 don't get to learn anything in that way," he 

 added, a little disdainfully ; " just running 

 back and forth." He had " waited " in 

 Florida, and had been to Jamaica and I for- 

 get where else, though he was only twenty- 

 three years old. He liked to go round and 

 see the world. " Married ? " No ; a man 

 who didn't live anywhere had no business 

 with a wife and children. Still he was not 

 oblivious to feminine charms, as became evi- 

 dent when we passed a pair of dusky beau- 

 ties. " Oh, I will look at 'em," he said, 



