Bricks Without Straw | Page 7

moment's delay
by a colored woman, who came out from the kitchen and exclaimed,
"Who's dah?"
It was evident at once that visitors were not frequent at
Knapp-of-Reeds.
"Where's Mr. Ware?" asked the stranger.
"He's done gone out in de new-ground terbacker, long wid de han's,"
answered the woman.
"Where is the new-ground this year?" repeated the questioner. "Jes'
down on the p'int 'twixt de branch an' de Hyco," she replied.
"Anybody you can send for him?"
"Wal, thar mout be some shaver dat's big enough to go, but Marse

War's dat keerful ter please Marse Desmit dat he takes 'em all outen de
field afore dey can well toddle," said the woman doubtfully.
"Well, come and take my horse," said he, as he began to descend from
his gig, "and send for Mr. Ware to come up at once."
The woman came forward doubtfully and took the horse by the bit,
while the traveler alighted. No sooner did he turn fully toward her than
her face lighted up with a smile, and she said,
"Wal, dar, ef dat a'n't Marse Desmit hisself, I do believe! How d'ye do,
Mahs'r?" and the woman dropped a courtesy.
"I'm very well, thank ye, Lorency, an' glad to see you looking so peart,"
he responded pleasantly. "How's Mr. Ware and the people? All well, I
hope."
"All tol'able, Mahs'r, thank ye."
"Well, tie the horse, and get me some dinner, gal. I haven't eaten since I
left home."
"La sakes!" said the woman in a tone of commiseration, though she had
no idea whether it was twenty or forty miles he had driven since his
breakfast.
The man who sat upon the porch and waited for the coming of Mr.
Silas Ware, his overseer, was in the prime of life, of florid complexion,
rugged habit, short stubbly hair--thick and bristling, that stood close
and even on his round, heavy head from a little way above the beetling
brows well down upon the bull-like neck which joined but hardly
separated the massive head and herculean trunk. This hair, now almost
white, had been a yellowish red, a hue which still showed in the
eyebrows and in the stiff beard which was allowed to grow beneath the
angle of his massive jaw, the rest of his face being clean shaven. The
eyes were deep-sunk and of a clear, cold blue. His mouth broad, with
firm, solid lips. Dogged resolution, unconquerable will, cold-blooded
selfishness, and a keen hog-cunning showed in his face, while his short,

stout form--massive but not fleshy--betrayed a capacity to endure
fatigue which few men could rival.
"How d'ye, Mr. Ware?" he said as that worthy came striding in from the
new-ground nervously chewing a mouthful of home-made twist, which
he had replenished several times since leaving the field, without taking
the precaution to provide stowage for the quantity he was taking
aboard.
"How d'ye, Colonel?" said Ware uneasily.
"Reckon you hardly expected me to day?" continued Desmit, watching
him closely. "No, I dare say not. They hardly ever do. Fact is, I rarely
ever know myself long enough before to send word."
He laughed heartily, for his propensity for dropping in unawares upon
his agents was so well known that he enjoyed their confusion almost as
much as he valued the surprise as a means of ascertaining their
attention to his interests. Ware was one of his most trusted lieutenants,
however, and everything that he had ever seen or heard satisfied him of
the man's faithfulness. So he made haste to relieve him from
embarrassment, for the tall, awkward, shambling fellow was perfectly
overwhelmed.
"It's a long time since I've been to see you, Mr. Ware--almost a year.
There's mighty few men I'd let run a plantation that long without
looking after them. Your reports have been very correct, and the returns
of your work very satisfactory. I hope the stock and hands are in good
condition?"
"I must say, Colonel Desmit," responded Ware, gathering confidence,
"though perhaps I oughtn't ter say it myself, that I've never seen 'em
lookin' better. 'Pears like everything hez been jest about ez favorable fer
hands an' stock ez one could wish. The spring's work didn't seem ter
worry the stock a mite, an' when the new feed come on there was
plenty on't, an' the very best quality. So they shed off ez fine ez ever
you see ennything in yer life, an' hev jest been a doin' the work in the
crop without turnin' a hair."

"Glad to hear it, Mr. Ware," said Desmit encouragingly.
"And the hands," continued Ware, "have jest been in prime condition.
We lost Horion, as I reported to you in--lemme see, February, I
reckon--along o' rheumatism which he done cotch a runnin' away from
that Navigation Company that you told me to