Bond and Free | Page 2

she sank upon her knees, and struggled in prayer until the mastery was gained and peace came; then pillowing her head, she slept quietly and sweetly.
A few days later, Capt. Templeton, who was apparently recovering from a slight attack of neuralgia, was sitting at the breakfast table with his daughter, and sipping a cup of fragrant coffee, as a servant brought to him, on a silver waiter, the county newspaper.
Glancing carelessly over its contents, an item arrested his attention, and he read aloud:
"Mr. George Melburn, of Oak Lawn, has made arrangements with Mr. Grigg to oversee his large estate, as he proposes making a tour on the continent of Europe, and subsequently devoting himself to missionary work in--."
Laying down the paper, without observing the flush which suffused the cheek of his daughter, he remarked, "So George is at home again, and ready to be off once more. I am heartily sorry that he is not to remain, and take charge of his servants. It must be a sudden move; for, the last time I saw him, he expressed a desire and longing to be on his place permanently; and, as he had received a call to take charge of G--Church, it seemed certain he would remain at 'The Lawn.'"
"But, papa," said Letitia, thinking she ought to reply, and scarce knowing what ground to take, "is not Mr. Grigg a good, responsible overseer?"
"Yes, dear; he is as good and responsible an overseer as can be found; but where there are so many hands, they need their own master to look in upon them once in a while. Mr. Grigg provides each servant his allowance, and George Melburn is not the man to want his hands stinted; but it is the business of the overseer to see that the crops come in full, so he is sometimes pretty hard on them. It is natural for a man to feel attached to his own possessions, and to have a kind of family feeling toward his servants, aside from the dollars they cost, which an overseer can not have. He should have been neighborly enough to call upon you, little daughter."
Letitia replied, as she rose from the table to hide her confusion: "Yes, papa; he called the evening you were at G--."
A description of Temple Vale may carry some of our readers back a quarter of a century, to an old homestead in Virginia. The house was a plain frame building; a wide hall, extending from the front veranda to the rear, separated the parlor, or "big room," from the "family room." The former was honored with an ingrained carpet, cane-seated chairs, and two large wooden rockers, with chintz-covered cushions. A generous fire-place in winter diffused the warmth of blazing logs, and in summer the wide jambs furnished a niche for a vase of flowers. On the opposite side stood a massive sideboard, the compartments of which held hats and bonnets for Sunday wear, as well as demijohns of home-made wines and a plate of pound-cake. Of these refreshments every visitor who found his way hither, either by accident or upon business, was not only invited, but expected to partake.
The room across the hall was large enough to answer the various purposes to which it had been appropriated; namely, bed-room, sitting, and dining-room. On the second floor, corresponding apartments were used as sleeping rooms.
Capt. Templeton's frequent absence from home had made it necessary to have the end of the rear veranda enclosed for the accommodation of a trusty servant, who could be called at any moment, and before whose door a watch-dog kept guard.
Directly in rear of the house, at a few yards distance, was the kitchen; and, further on, to the left, a row of neatly whitewashed cabins, far enough apart to allow space for little gardens, where each family of servants was encouraged to cultivate, for sale, or for their own use, a supply of vegetables. Saturday afternoons, and time gained by completing an alloted task at an early hour, afforded leisure for this work. The experiment had originated with the late mistress of Temple Vale, who had discontinued the cultivation of a kitchen garden in order to encourage the servants by purchasing such produce as they might raise; and it had proved successful. The front yard had been laid out, and, under the supervision of Miss Letitia, flowers bloomed luxuriant and filled the air with their fragrance.
After breakfast, Capt. Templeton went out to give directions for the day's work, and his daughter sought the retirement of an arbor to quiet emotions that had been once more re-awakened by the remarks of her father.
This little retreat was formed by the branches of a carefully trained hawthorne, overhanging a singularly formed rock, which served as a bench.
The hardest battles fought by mankind are