[jnder the Vjagnolias OT-DORMAN THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES UNDER THE MAGNOLIAS BY C. T. DORMAN THE Sibbcy Press PUBLISHERS 114 FIFTH AVENUE Condon NEW YORK montreal Copyright, 1902, by THE Hbbey Press CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGB Financial Rviin 1 CHAPTER II. Breaking Home Ties 20 CHAPTER III. The Farmer's Welcome in Louisiana 37 CHAPTER IV. Southward Bound 48 CHAPTER V. Looking Backward , 62 CHAPTER VI. Blighted Hopes 76 CHAPTER VII. The Magnolias 98 CHAPTER VIII. The Refuge 101 CHAPTER IX. Making New Friends 116 CHAPTER X. Daddy Mack 140 CHAPTER XI. The Holy Dance 154 550188 iv Contents. CHAPTER XII. FAOB Complications 167 CHAPTER XIII. A Confession 193 CHAPTER XIV. Estrangement 206 CHAPTER XV. Conclusion. . 228 UNDER THE MAGNOLIAS. CHAPTER I. FINANCIAL RUIN. "By my faith, you have great reason to be sad" "And why, I pray you. Who might be your mother that you insult, exult, and all at once over the wretched." "As You Like It." THE autumn leaves were slowly drifting into gay- colored heaps in the hollows and at the roots of the trees, as leaves will always do when touched by the first light frost. A sad, low wind had come up with the twilight, and a dark cloud in the northwest soon spread rapidly over the sky, so lately flushed with sun set tints of pink and gold. "How much like the life of man," thought Mr. Melton, as he slowly walked from the barn to the pretty cottage which had been his home 1 for twenty- five happy years. The cloud in his own sky which had, at first, appeared no larger than a man's hand, now 2 Under the Magnolias. seemed a thick curtain that excluded all the sunlight from his view. The air was growing chill, and he must go indoors, but that which in other days was the sweetest pleasure of his life, now seemed unendurable to him. To many a man it requires more courage to go to a loved wife and unfold a reverse of fortune than to face death on the battlefield. It was thus Mr. Melton felt, and his case was but the repetition of many others. If he could only bear his troubles alone, he argued to him self, he would not care, but to involve in it those he loved so much, was hard indeed. He went slowly up the walk, thinking of the happy past; back to the day when he had proudly brought sweet Mary May- field to be the mistress of his home near the village of Glenwood. He thought what a good wife she had proved to be in all those years of toil for himself and their children. In the great trials of his life she had ever been his chief comfort. Three of their children had died in infancy, and it was this faithful wife who had whispered words of consolation to him while her own heart was breaking. All these thoughts flashed through his mind as he traversed the short distance between the gate and the steps. Before he reached the porch, he 1 turned aside to cut off some withered roses which an early frost had blighted. "This garden is the work of her own hands," he said in a low tone to himself, "but she'll never gather roses here again, for another year, stranger hands will tend this flower garden." Financial Ruin. 3 It was not only of his wife h'e thought, but also of Evelyn, his lovely daughter, now just expanded into perfect womanhood. It was his pride in her and his de light in her pleasure, that had brought him into the straits in which he now found himself. He had sent her to schools at which only rich men could afford to educate their daughters; had gratified her wishes far beyond his moderate means, and now, this very day, he had been notified that unless his notes were paid, there would be a foreclosure of the mortgage on their home. Banishing the thoughts of the past from his mind, he compressed his lips with strong determination, and entered the sitting-room, where his wife was seated, busily engaged in knitting. Her bright, smiling face was a strong contrast to the troubled countenance of her husband. A fire burned brightly on the hearth, adding no little to the cozy appearance of the living room of the family. Mrs. Melton looked up as her husband entered; then quickly rising, she drew his easy-chair nearer the fire, with affectionate solicitude. She instantly noted the look of deep dejection on his face, but wisely forebore' to question him, knowing that he would open his heart to her in his own way and time. The silence between them was unbroken for some moments, but at length, with a great effort for com posure, he began: "Mary, I have some bad news to tell you that you should have known long ago, but I kept thinking it would come out all right in the end, and I would never have to trouble you with what has given me more dis- 4 Under the Magnolias. tress than anything that has ever happened to me be fore. Now I am forced to tell you, and may God help you to bear it !" He sighed deeply, but did not give his wife time for reply before he resumed, gloomily: "I always thought it a foolish and useless practice for a man to burden his wife with his troubles, but now I see my mistake. I don't know, though, that it would have been any better, Mary, if I had told you before. "When the time drew near for Evelyn to leave home for her last term at college, I was so pressed for money that I was strongly tempted to tell her that she would have to give it up. But after watching her bright face as she told her plans of the great things she would do, my heart failed me, and I followed the example of many another weak man. I went to old Mr. Heming way, and mortgaged my farm for the money necessary to pay her expenses at college. I was not morally strong enough to face the disappointment it would give' my darling girlie to stop her from finishing her education. Now I will not have a home to shelter my family, not to speak of a competency for our old age and something to leave Evelyn when we die. I have 'sowed the wind and now I shall reap the whirlwind,' " and he groaned as he looked into the dark future. "People hardly ever end right by beginning wrong, but I thought that by working a little harder and being a little more economical, I could soon catch up in money matters, and you and Evelyn need never know the distress I had been through in this thing. But af fairs did not turn out as I hoped they would, and one Financial Ruin. 5 thing and another set me back until at times I almost despaired. Those two bad crop years, with my long spell of rheumatism, with the heavy doctor's bills, and the high interest on my notes, ha-ve literally ruined me, Mary," and the farmer leaned wearily back in his chair. "Is the farm mortgaged for all it is worth?" asked his wife. "Yes, for all it will bring at a forced sale. I have always kept the interest paid, and hoped some day to be able to lift the mortgage, but the death of old Mr. Hemingway put an end to these hopes. His nephew, who has come into the estate, is a very different man from his uncle, people say." "Is he the young man who has called here several times lately to see Evelyn?" "Yes, the same man; has reddish hair and is rather good-looking, but is wofully puffed up with importance since he has come in possession of so much property. I never thought he would want our farm, though, as he has so many of them, and we paying the interest regu larly, too. But he intimated in rather a delicate way this evening, that he would be forced to do me as he has been doing all the other farmers on whose farms he held mortgages foreclose. They say he has no mercy on those who owe him. It just cut me to the quick for him to even hint such a thing to me, Mary ; I, who have always been so independent. If he thinks I am going to beg him for mercy, or offer him my daughter for a wife, he's mistaken/' Mr. Melton said, with unusual emphasis. 6 Under the Magnolias. Mrs. Melton rose, and, going to her husband's side, laid her hand tenderly on his, as she said : "Henry, I do not blame you in the least for what you have done. I have no doubt I would have done the same thing had I been in your place. But cheer up, dear; we can find a home somewhere else, and though it may be ever so humble we will try to be content, for where the heart is, that is home." "Ah, my poor wife, you do not know what it is to be shelterless, and that, too, at the beginning of a hard winter," Mr. Melton responded, gloomily. "We will put our trust in the God who 'clothes the lilies of the field' and shelters the sparrow in her nest," gently replied his wife. It was the same old story of the weaker vessel riding bravely through the tempest that made the strong man- of-war creak and groan in every timber. The farmer had thought so long over his difficulties that he had grown morbid on the subject. He had pictured to himself that the disclosure of his trouble would crush his wife and daughter to the earth with sorrow and dismay. He had put off from day to day, the ordeal of telling his family of his financial condi tion, in the vain hope that something would occur to delay the evil time. Now that it was over, he felt wonderfully relieved; and the hope that springs eternal in the human heart once more began to illumine his clouded horizon. He sat for some time absorbed in deep thought, then slowly remarked : "Mary, I'll leave you to tell Evelyn. You women can do such things better than men." Financial Ruin. 7 Mrs. Melton drew a chair near her husband, and seating herself, held his hand in a warm, sympathetic clasp. Evelyn was sitting in the little room that she had fitted up as a library since her last homecoming. While there reading, she had heard her father come in, the door being ajar between the two rooms. She was struck with the sadness of his tone and listened, as one in a dark dream, to the recital of his losses. She could scarcely take in the whole import of the sorrowful fctory. To think that the education and high culture, of which she was, justly, so proud, had been attained at the cost of the home in which her parents had hoped to spend their declining years, made her heart sick. That they would now have to give it up seemed impos sible. It could not be so bad as that. She 1 could not think; she only felt as if she wanted to run away and hide out of sight of anyone. She quietly slipped out of the library, through the hall and porch, down a path leading into the orchard. She walked rapidly on to where, at the back of the en closure, stood an old apple tree. Under that tree she had spent many happy hours in her childhood, where, in the dreamy Maytime, soft breezes wafted the pink petals over her head; or later, when merry groups of her play-fellows helped to gather apples from the heavy-laden boughs. But now the sun set glow had faded into dull gray, and life seemed equally bereft of all pleasant things. Try as she would, she could not repress the tears that came in spite of 8 Under the Magnolias. resolution ; and, seating herself, she gave way to always the last resort of woman a flood of tears. Did you never see how quickly, sometimes, after a heavy shower, the clouds float away, leaving the bright sunshine to take their place? So it was with Evelyn, as, with a much lighter heart, she dried her eyes, and lifted her soul in fervent prayer to God, to give them strength to bear this trial, and wisdom to guide them in the dark future. She walked slowly back to her room; and, after bathing her face and smiling away the marks of sor row from her countenance, she joined her parents in the' cozy sitting-room, now bright with a lighted lamp on a pretty tea-table. Her father and mother were sit ting in their usual places, evidently awaiting her. "I am sorry, mother dear, if I have kept you and father waiting for your tea ; I was down in the orchard and did not hear the bell," she said brightly, as she took her place at the table. "No, dear, you have' not kept us waiting," answered her mother, gently. There was little conversation during that meal, usual ly the most cheerful one of the day, for each was think ing too deeply for words. Neither father nor mother knew that Evelyn was aware of the change in their cir cumstances, and she felt too strongly to trust herself to speak of it, even to them, just now. "To-morrow will be 1 time enough to begin making plans for the future," she thought. After tea she played and sang the songs her father and mother loved to hear. She then read the weekly Financial Ruin. 9 newspaper to her father. It was quite filled up with in stances of cruel and unjust treatment of the' ."poor freedmen" in the Southern States, particularly in Louisiana, where the people had arisen in their might and at the point of the bayonet, had driven out the "justly elected Governor and Legislature," as the paper styled the notorious Packard Legislature and Governor Wannoth. Mr. Melton was horrified at the reports she read to him from the strong Republican paper. "I don't see how a Northern man can be willing to live among such people," he said, bitterly. "Mr. Bliss seems to stand it very well. Mrs. Bliss told me a few days ago that he was getting on finely, and was well pleased with the country and the people," said Evelyn, quietly. She did not share her father's hatred of the South. In her life at school she had met many pleasant people from below "Mason and Dixon's line," and cherished no such ignorant view of them as did many of the Maine farmers and their families. "Well," said Mrs. Melton in her quiet way, "we have given them their freedom, and it does look as if they ought to get on all right now. They can work for themselves as we do and earn a good living. I have never seen anyone suffer for food and clothing who was willing to work and earn them" she had a horror of people who were too lazy to work for a living, "You dear, industrious, little mother," responded Evelyn, "if all the world loved to work as you do, there would be much less of penury and suffering ; but, father, I do not doubt that the ill treatment of the freedmen io Under the Magnolias. is greatly exaggerated; such things always are, you know." Evelyn now bade them good-night. Her kisses were warmer than usual, and her arms clasped each in a fond embrace before retiring to her room. But she could not sleep, for her mind went over and over again the items in her father's sad story, and always, with ceaseless recurrence, came back to the momentous ques tion, "What should they do ere they were turned out of their comfortable home ?" At last, the idea that was evolved most clearly from the mass of conflicting emo tions that filled her mind, was this ; she would persuade her father to move away to some distant State where no one knew them. This, she pictured to herself, would be much more endurable than living near their old home and seeing strangers there. She could teach school, aid her father in building up a new home. These cheering thoughts brought peace to her overcharged feelings, and soon after midnight she forgot the cares of life in sweet dreamless slumber. On the next morning "ole Mis' Bliss," as she was familiarly called in the neighborhood, came in to see "Mis' Melton, jes' fur a minit," to say that she had got another letter from her "Johnnie down in Louisiany." "He says, 'mother, I'm feared ez you'll hear some terri bly scarry news about us down here, an' think ez mebbe we'd all ben murdered in our beds, but we're all right an' doin' splendid though the worms hev' damaged my cotton some,' and the old lady laughed. "He winds up his letter by beggin' me to cum an' liv' with him an' Liza, but lor, lor, Mis' Melton, I'm too Financial Ruin. n ole ter learn new tricks now. When I die I jes' want my bones ter res' Alongside er the ole man right here in Maine, an' ef I wuz ter get that fur away, I know I'd never git back here agin," added the old woman. While she kept up an incessant flow of talk the younger women listened, interestedly. To one of them, at least, came a deep and exciting interest. A bright thought had flashed, like an electric current, through the mind rf Evelyn. She would write to John Bliss and ask for information about this far distant State, where land was so cheap that it could be had almost for the asking. When Mrs. Bliss rose to go, Evelyn followed her into the hall, and taking down her sunbonnet, said: "Mrs. Bliss, I will walk home with you. The' morn ing is too beautiful to spend indoors." "Well, deary, I shull be glad of your company, an' ez you say, 'tis ez putty a morning ez one would care to see." After leaving the gate 1 Evelyn said, in a low tone : "Mrs. Bliss, I am going to tell you what I know mother wanted to tell you, but just could not. We will have to give up our place on the first of November to the man to whom it is mortgaged, and will have' to seek a home elsewhere. I suppose you have heard of the mortgage which is held by young Mr. Hemingway ?" "Yes, I beared 'bout the mortgage ez a gret secret, but didn't pay much 'tention ter it, ez folks hears so much ez t'ain't true 'bout their neighbors these days. Anyways, honey, I wouldn't er thought ez they'd hev the heart ter turn you outen house an' home." 12 Under the Magnolias. "Yes, and the quicker the better for us, I think. Mrs. Bliss, what is your son's address? What post- office do you send his letters to when you write to him ?" Evelyn asked in explanation. "I allus directs his letters to Brierwood, Louisiany, an' he hasn't never lost one yet," answered Mrs. Bliss, as she looked inquiringly at her young friend. "I wish to write to him immediately," Evelyn said, "and ask him to tell me all about the State, or, rather, his section of it, and what are the chances of our se curing a farm there, as you say he has done, almost for nothing. And then, too, I want to ask him about the state of society there, as father is so prejudiced against the South that it will take the testimony of Mr. Bliss added to all my powers of persuasion to convince him that his hatred is unreasonable. I must write to him at once, as the time to decide for the future is growing brief. This is the twentieth of September, and November will soon be here." Mrs. Bliss was full of sympathy, as she said : "Well, child, I am ez sorry for you ez I can well be, an' fur myself, too, for I don't know as how I'll git along without your father and mother, ez allus ben sech good neighbors ter me. I know John will be that proud ter hev you all fur neighbors, ez he won't know what to do, an' will sure help you all he can. Jes' you write to him right away, Evie. Your pa knows he can trust what John says ez good ez he can any body's word." Here they reached the gate to Mrs. Bliss' yard, and declining the warm invitation to "come in, dearie," Financial Ruin. 13 Evelyn hastily retraced her steps homeward, and going to her room, wrote the first business letter of her life. When it was finished she changed her dress and walked rapidly over to the post-office to stamp her important letter. When she returned home she went in search of her mother and found her on the back porch watching some young chickens that she had just been feeding. She was looking sadly about her, as if in contemplation of the separation from all the loved domestic scenes that seemed dearer to her than ever. The placid, gentle little woman could not think of what the future held in store for her without many misgivings, although she tried to rest her faith implicitly on the promises of God. When Evelyn saw her dejected attitude it smote her heart sorely, and going to her mother, she threw her arms around her, saying, tenderly: "Mother, dearest, don't let us grieve over the loss of our worldly goods, so long as we have each other to live for and to love. I overheard the sad news father told you last evening, and I do not wish you to be dis tressed too much over it, for I can teach school and help him get another home, which in time will be dear to us. I am sure any home with you and father will be dear to me." Her mother returned her caresses warmly, as she drew her down to her lap, and answered cheerily: "What you say is all true, my dear girlie, and I, like you, will try to be contented in our home, however simple it may be. Evelyn, where shall we go? I don't 14 Under the Magnolias. feel as if I could stop in this village, or anywhere near here." "Well, mother, I am going to tell you of a plan that was put into my head by God Himself, I think, for after asking His guidance the thought came to me un bidden. While Mrs. Bliss was here this morning it just flashed into my mind that it would be a good idea to write to Mr. Bliss and ask his advice on the subject of homesteading on a piece of land in Louisiana. I wrote to him this morning, asking for all necessary informa tion, so that we can decide at once what would be the best plan to pursue. I know he will answer my letter as soon as possible 1 . That is what took me to the village this morning, and, mother, dear, if Mr. Bliss writes encouragingly, half the battle will be won, I think." "Why, my dear," responded Mrs. Melton, affection ately, "you mean that you will just be forming your line of battle to begin the conflict; but never fear, deary, we will fight bravely and with God's help we will win." "Here is father. We will see what he has to say of our plan of emigration," said Evelyn, as she ran to meet her father and escort him to a chair beside her mother. A woman is always pleasing when she wishes to win a man over to her side, be it husband, father, brother, or lover ; so on this occasion Evelyn was no ex ception to the rule 1 . As soon as her father was seated, she took her station behind his chair; and putting her arms around his neck said, coaxingly: "Father, mother and I have a plan to propose for your consideration, but we are not going to ask you to Financial Ruin. 15 decide on it now, only to think over it until we ask for a decision on the question." He did not make any remark at first, but drew the brightly flushed face down to his, and imprinted a warm kiss on the dimpled cheek, then said playfully: "Well, let's hear that great plan you and mother are conjuring up in your busy brains." "I had nothing to do with it," protested Mrs. Melton. "It was my own idea, father," put in Evelyn, "or, rather, I should say it was presented to my mind by Providence, as Mrs. Bliss is so fond of saying. John Bliss, you know, father, has been in the State of Louis iana ever since the close of the Civil War, and he seems very much pleased with the country; is doing finely, his mother tells us. I obtained his address from her this morning and wrote to him immediately, asking for information on the subject of homestead entry in that State." Evelyn paused as she felt her father start at the mere suggestion of emigration to Louisiana. But as he made no reply, she resumed her explanation. "As I told you before, we do not wish you to decide this question until we receive the letter from Mr. Bliss, which, I guess, will be about two or three weeks." After a considerable pause, her father answered with some bitterness: "I don't know, my little girl, it will be pretty hard for me to leave my home, but after that I don't know that I care much where I go. I suppose one place will be as good as another, outside of New England." Then, as if repenting his mournful tone, he continued more cheerfully : 1 6 Under the Magnolias. "I guess I'll be willing to go wherever you and the little mother want to go. As I have always tried to please you two, I shall continue to do so. But I am afraid my little adviser is choosing a very sickly coun try. I have always seen it pictured as a low, level marsh, with alligators sunning themselves on logs along the border of great lagoons." Here Evelyn interrupted him with a merry laugh. Mr. Melton resumed slowly : "It is, I am told, as much as a man's life is worth to venture among the people unless you think exactly as they do, politically. Evelyn, there is one thing certain, if ever I go South, I will never give up my principles to please any set of people who think they are better than the rest of the world, yet brow-beat and domineer over the poor down-trodden freedmen, as they do. I will just die first I wish that distinctly understood, Evelyn!" Evelyn had never seen her father so much excited, nor had ever heard him make so long a speech, but she was more than satisfied, for she had carried her point beyond her most sanguine expectations, and everything would come right in the end, she felt assured. "I guess John knows all about the State," suggested Mrs. Melton, "at least he ought to, for he has been there long enough to learn all there is to learn of climate and people." "When did you write to John, Evelyn, did you say ?" "Only this morning, father. I did not know until last night of the loss of our home," she replied. Financial Ruin. 17 A silence fell over the group and nothing more was said on the subject that day. Late in the afternoon Evelyn went out for a walk. Ere she had gone far she met young Hemingway sauntering leisurely along in the direction of the Mel ton cottage. She flushed hotly when she saw him, and he, with masculine vanity, entirely misunderstanding the cause of her sudden accession of color, augured a favorable omen from it for himself. "Good evening, Miss Evelyn," he said, as he twirled his cane awkwardly and turned to join her. It was quite evident to Evelyn now that he had come out on purpose to meet with her. Evelyn responded to his salutation with cold dignity. "I was just on my way to call at your house," he con tinued, "and I am very much pleased to meet you and share your walk. Isn't it lovely weather ? I've been out riding over my farms to-day, and have enjoyed the crisp, fresh air so much." "Are you sure you did not better enjoy the' knowledge that you were monarch of all you surveyed, than you did the fresh air?" asked Evelyn, sarcastically. "It is unkind of you to say such a thing," he replied, as his red face grew redder with indignation at Evelyn's thrust, "but I will forgive you that as I have all your other cold and haughty expressions, if you will only treat me differently in the future." Mr. Hemingway and Evelyn Melton had met often at the home of a friend who lived in the same neigh borhood where he resided before his uncle's death left him sole possessor of the broad acres about Glenwood. 1 8 Under the Magnolias. Though he seemed to admire her, she had never re garded him in the light of a suitor, but had felt an in stinctive dislike to him even before she had heard of the position which he occupied toward them. Now, his patronizing manner was unbearable to her. "Miss Evelyn," he began, after they had walked some distance in silence, "I started over to see you this evening to tell you how much I admire you, and ask you to come and preside over the beautiful home I am preparing for the woman whom I think best fitted to fill such a station. You are cultured and beautiful, and should be placed where you will shine. Will you con sent to come and help me spend the money I am lucky enough to inherit from the old man ?" Evelyn's face was pale, but the eyes she 1 lifted to his were burning with scorn. "Mr. Hemingway, I am truly sensible, I hope, of the honor you have conferred upon me in asking me to fill the exalted position in life which your wife will nec essarily have to fill, but strange as it may seem, I do not feel in the' least flattered by your proposal. I care nothing for you and you will please not mention the subject again in my presence." Surprise and anger filled the young man's mind, and was clearly indicated in his face and tone as he replied, sneeringly : "Perhaps you are yet ignorant of the fact, Miss Mel ton, that it is in my power to cause your parents a great deal of trouble. It would give me great pleasure to re lease the mortgage I hold over your home, and thus make your fathereasy for life, and save you the painful Financial Ruin. 19 necessity of leaving your old home to strangers. I think when you know all the circumstances in which they are placed, and remember that the power is now in your hands to place them above want in their old age, that you will rescind your ^lofty refusal of an offer that not many peniless girls have an opportunity of refusing." In his inordinate conceit he was wholly unprepared for the answer she made him, and he quailed when she turned on him with eyes ablaze, and scorn and contempt written on every feature 1 . "I am not on the market, sir, to be purchased with the gold of a heartless parvenue ! I spurn your contempt ible offer, Mr. Hemingway," and choking with anger and mortification, she walked home, leaving him stand ing dazed as though he had been struck by lightning. 20 Under the Magnolias. CHAPTEK II. BREAKING HOME TIES. "Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." "As You Like It.*' AFTER two weeks of anxious expectancy, the letter from Mr. Bliss came to Evelyn. Her father had brought it in from the village just as they were about to seat themselves at the table for supper. "Your letter bears a Louisiana postmark, so I suppose it is from John Bliss, Evelyn. Bead it aloud, please, as mother and I are anxious to hear what he has to say." Then turning to his wife, he continued: "MotheT, let the tea wait until we hear what John has to say aboutf Louisiana." "Yes, mother," responded Evelyn, joyfully, "I could not possibly eat anything with this unopened letter in my hands." Her dark eyes shone with excitement, as, with trembling fingers, she tore open the envelope and read aloud the following: "BRIERWOOD, LOUISIANA. "Mr DEAR Miss EVELYN: I have just received your letter of inquiry and take great pleasure in replying as best I can. I think I can better answer all your Breaking Home Ties. 21 questions by relating my own experience as a homestead settler in Louisiana. "I left Maine in '63, to help General Grant crush the, as I then called it, rebellion of the Southern States. I do not call it so now, for the people here do not like that term. I don't feel as if I can ever repay their kindness to me, so I always try to please them in every way; in fact, I have thrown in my lot with the South now ; my interests, my home are all here. I have found that a few years' residence does more to over throw some of our ideas of Southern people 1 and their methods, than all the arguments that could be made. "I am truly delighted at the idea of having your fam ily for neighbors at an early date, for I am thoroughly convinced, that if your father will come right on, he will be much pleased with the country. But I told you that I would give you a short sketch of my own luck at homesteading. "After the surrender of Vicksburg my command was ordered to the Red River country. The battles in which I took part are well known to readers of history, so I will not mention any of them except the last the bat tle of Mansfield, in which I was badly wounded. A planter, who lived near there, took me from the battle field and cared for me until I should be exchanged, but the war coming to a close I was left to do as I pleased, which was to stay with the kind old man who had been more than a friend to me. "I do not know why he was so kind to me, unless it was the sympathy of a bereaved heart, for he had lost hie two sons in battle. He had a rich plantation, well 22 Under the Magnolias. stocked and with about a hundred slaves, when our army came. After that nothing was left but a barren wilderness of unfenced fields. There was not an ear of corn left, and no cows, horses, nor even a rooster to crow us up in the morning. "Both the old man's brave sons lay beneath the sod on Virginia battlefields; but, with superhuman effort, it seems now, we for I helped him all my strength would permit soon had a little farm in nice running order. "I stayed with him until his death, which occurred two years later, then I went to the home of a nephew of his. He had come from an adjoining Parish, and seemed to take a fancy to me, and persuaded me to go with him and homestead on a vacant tract of land near him. I had nothing to hold me to any particular spot, except my old mother in Maine, who, as you know, is well provided for, so I decided to accept his proposition. The next day after we reached his home we rode out to look at the piece of land he had men tioned to me. I was so much pleased with the locality that I decided to homestead immediately. Mr. Melton can guess how hard I worked, and soon a clearing in the wilderness of pines rewarded me for pains. We could not depend upon the negroes, as they were hard to please. If one did not do just exactly to please them they would pull out to the county seat and report you to the Trovo/ as they called the U. S. Marshal. So I let them alone and did my own work. "Mr. Hynson would sometimes bring his whole force over and do a big job of clearing for me. Finally I Breaking Home Ties. 23 got started in stock raising, and there is no better sec tion in the country for this business. The fine, large bayou Saline, which runs through one corner of my land, affords me the finest range for hog raising, and now, in a good year, I sell several hundred dollars' worth of meat that does not cost me a cent to raise. As for cattle, they are fit for beef in mid-winter, even when running on the range. "Now that we are rid of the 'carpet-bagger' govern ment, Mr. Melton need not be afraid of anything, un less it be overkind treatment of us Southerners. We will give him as much land as he wants, and that for a song; help him settle on it, and then we will treat you all as if you had been born right here among us. "I have been in the Brierwood country just seven years. I am independent and have several families of negroes on my place. I make them work they have to be made, for lazy they are and lazy they will remain till the crack of doom. I always have meat, corn, and syrup for sale, and as the shiftless negroes never raise enough of anything on their farms to last them six months, there is always sale for such things, generally to be paid for in work, when crops are gathered in the fall. "I proved up my homestead at the end of five years, and the total cost did not exceed twenty-five dollars. This is a beautiful country, with bold, clear creeks rising in the sand hills and emptying in the Eed Eiver. Their banks are thickly covered with magnolias and various kinds of oaks, while the hills are covered with the most magnificent growth of long leaf pine timber 24 Under the Magnolias. in the world. The country is healthy ; in fact, I would rather risk it than old Maine, even. I hope Mr. Mel ton will come right on, as I know of a good homestead claim, and I will do all I can to help him get settled before Christmas. "Last night I had a talk with Mr. Hynson about your father's coming, and he expressed himself as greatly pleased at the idea. It is needless for me to tell you the pleasure it will give us to have you settle near us. My wife, you know, is a Maine girl. Your father and mother will remember 'Liza Murry, if you don't. Do persuade Mr. Melton to come right on, or somebody else may get ahead of him. I will be sure to meet him at our river station, some twenty miles from here, on the Red River. "Hoping that you will let me hear from you at an early date, I remain Yours to serve, "JOHN BLISS." Evelyn folded the letter slowly, and then looked meditatively at her father and mother in turn. "I had not thought of you going first and leaving mother and me," she said. "I would rather that we all go together and learn the country afterwards, if you decide to go, father. Wouldn't you, mother?" "I don't know, my daughter, which will be best > but will leave it to your father/' Like the dutiful wife she was, she always deferred to her husband in matters of business, and that with perfect faith in his good judgment. Mr. Melton had not volunteered any remarks as Breaking Home Ties. 25 yet, but sat apparently absorbed in deep meditation. After a while he roused himself as if by an effort, and said, slowly: "I shall talk it all over with you both, and we will decide which will be the most sensible plan to pursue. Just now, I think as John does, that it will be the best for me to go on and prepare you a home, then you can come when I am ready for you. That strikes me as the most common sense way to do." "But, father, that will take some time," protested Evelyn, "and in the meantime, what will mother and I do?" "Why, my dear, your mother has been planning all summer to visit your aunt in Boston, and it will be the most convenient time she will ever have to visit her now, I guess. We can sell what we 1 have a right to dis pose of and you can both go to your aunt's until I write for you to come South," said Mr. Melton, with more energy than he had displayed since the day he had laid down his resolution regarding his conduct in the South. Evelyn was delighted. Everything was unfolding just as she had hoped. After the pros and cons had been discussed, all decided that it would be the best plan for Mr. Melton to go first. It was not many days after they had thus decided that Mr. Melton sold the stock and other personal prop erty that was not covered by the mortgage. After tak ing an affectionate leave of his wife and daughter, and bidding farewell to his loved State, he turned his face southward, determined to put the past behind him and 26 Under the Magnolias. begin life anew, with the courage and energy worthy of his New England ancestry. Another week saw him an honored guest in a Southern homestead. Mr. Melton had already made up his mind that he would settle in Louisiana, before he left Maine, so the task that fell to Mr. Bliss was not a hard one that of persuading him to homestead on the piece of land ad joining his own. The first Sunday after his arrival he wrote his wife and daughter that he had "filed his claim, and would begin immediately to prepare a home for his loved ones/' "This is the busy season," he wrote. "Cotton picking is in full blast, as well as harvesting peas and corn. A little later comes cane grinding and potato digging. I made my first acquaintance with cotton as I came down the Mississippi, and along the latter part of my jour ney I saw nothing but cotton. Whole fields looked as if they were covered with snow, the worms having eaten off all the leaves. "I am as well pleased as it is possible to be in a new country, and hope that when you come you will like it as well as I do. We only get the mail once a week, so you see we are far from the busy, rushing world of steam and electricity, but I believe that is what you two said you wanted." How gratefully happy that letter made Mrs. Melton and Evelyn. It gave them courage to go through the ordeal of packing up what they decided to take with them. Strive as they would against the weakness of tears and melancholy, at times they would break down and weep silently at the thought of parting with this Breaking Home Ties. 27 or that bit of furniture, which carried with it some fond remembrance of past joys. At last, all was fin ished. The goods, including Evelyn's piano, were boxed and at the station. Evelyn could not give up her piano, and besides, she thought, it might be the means of making money to help them along in the new home to which they were going. She had carefully put up a root or clipping of every kind of shrub or flower that grew in the little garden, to transplant in their Southern, new-ground garden. "We will love these better, mother dear," she said, "than any others ; will we not ?" With many tears they bade farewell to their home; the only one that Evelyn had ever known, and it seemed to them that they could, never love another half so well. With sad hearts they walked out of the little gate, and after being seated in the carriage of a kind neighbor, were soon on their way to the station where they were to take the evening train for Boston, there to visit Mrs. Melton's sister. Here Evelyn felt that new trials awaited her, for the last two years of her school days had been passed in this city. She knew she would meet some of the friends of those days, who were very dear to her, and not being a girl who would play a false part knowingly, she wondered how they would receive her. Her best friend and particular chum, Marguerite Willingham, lived in Boston, and her parents were very wealthy, and moved in the most select society. Dearly as Evelyn loved Marguerite, she shrank from meeting her now. She had, of course, known always that she 28 Under the Magnolias. was not rich and often longed for the wealth possessed by nearly all her classmates. She decided resolutely, that she would make no com promise with self, but tell her friends bravely of her father's misfortunes and the cause of their removal to the South. Would they treat her coldly would they forget the warm ties formed in the days of the happy past? Her soft, brown eyes filled with tears of wound ed pride at the thought of Marguerite, who had al ways seemed to idolize her, and whom she had helped through many difficult studies at school. She tried to look bravely into the future, but the moisture would gather in drops that hung pathetically from the long, dark eyelashes. But when Marguerite was informed of Evelyn's arrival, she called at once and carried her back to her elegant home. "This is such an unexpected treat to me, Evelyn, my love," said Marguerite, as she looked with old-time fondness on her friend, "that I scarcely know how to behave myself with proper dignity." "I was afraid that your debut into the fashionable world had spoiled you by this time, and that you had forgotten school friends," Evelyn answered, a little anx iously. "Evelyn, you don't mean that seriously, T know. As if I could ever forget you, of all people in the world. I owe you too great a debt of gratitude for the assist ance you gave me in getting through college. I can never repay you were I to live a thousand years and give you my handsome brother in the bargain." Breaking Home Ties. 29 A hot flush came to Evelyn's rather pale face as Marguerite mentioned her brother. "You haven't forgotten your old weakness, Evelyn," she rattled on in her usual style, "that of blushing on all occasions. Arthur tells me that he thinks I ought to study that beautiful art. I believe you have met him once, Evelyn, haven't you ?" "Yes, I met him here one evening before he went abroad," Evelyn answered. Arthur Willingham had never forgotten the first im pression that Evelyn made on him the evening he had met her in his home, and Marguerite had told him so much of her goodness and intellect, that the impres sion had been deepened instead of effaced by time. While Marguerite and Evelyn were exchanging con fidences in real, school-girl fashion, there was a rap on the door, followed by Arthur, who came into the room with outstretched hand, a smiling welcome on his face. "I'm real jealous of Marguerite," he said to Evelyn, "and protest most earnestly against her keeping you all to herself. I did not learn until a few moments ago that you were here ; did not know that you were in the city, even." "Well, Arthur," answered Marguerite, "you were not at home when I received Evelyn's note announcing her arrival at her aunt's, and I have just returned with her. This is the first time I have seen you since; so withdraw your charge of selfishness, please." Marguerite was very fond of her brother. Evelyn noticed her look of pride as she addressed him, and it brought to her mind one of her life-long grudges against 30 Under the Magnolias. Fate that she had no brother or sister to share her joys and sorrows. "You are going to spend the winter with Marguer ite, are you not, Miss Melton?" asked Mr. Willingham. "Oh, no," was the quick reply. "I will have only a very short stay with my aunt, and shall give Marguer ite a fair share of that time, if she wants it, hut in a few weeks mother and I will leave for the South, where father is at present. We are going to emigrate to Louis iana, you know." "Indeed," said Mr. Willingham, with great surpriee. "I would not be more astonished if you had told me you were going to the antipodes. May I inquire if you are going as a missionary, as several of our New England ladies have done?" "N~o, nothing of the kind. Just going like a dutiful daughter with my parents, and expect to engage in the business of school teaching and helping father to make a living." Then she told him of the loss of their home, how they had been led to select Louisiana, and wound up by laughingly inviting him to call and see them should he ever go South. "I shall certainly avail myself of your kind invitation, and will, with your permission, sketch the little school- marm in her log cabin. Oh, by the way, you have not told me whether you intend to teach the 'Young idea' among the white or colored race ?" "I am going to do strictly as Eome does, when I go 'Down South in Dixie'; that is, I will do as the people of the best class do," said Evelyn, proudly. "Were you ever in the South, Mr. Willingham?" Breaking Home Ties. 31 "Yes," he replied, "but not in Louisiana. I spent one winter in Aiken, South Carolina, and I suppose it is very much like Louisiana. I have' been planning to go to New Orleans to attend the Mardi Gras festival this coming winter, and perhaps I will visit you then." "And I will go with him perhaps, if you will be so kind as to include me in your invitation to Arthur," put in Marguerite. "Yes, I will reserve one whole invitation for you," responded Evelyn, warmly, "but I thought you were planning to spend the whole of next year abroad, and then, of course, after that you will return as 'My Lady Somebody Else,' and I will have my nose put complete ly out of joint;" and Evelyn laughed heartily at the confusion caused by her disclosure of her friend's girl ish scheme. Evelyn positively refused to go into society, but spent a great deal of her time at Marguerite's home. To Mr. Willingham she was charmingly kind and gracious, and to him she was growing more interesting than he cared to admit, even to himself. To Marguerite, who watched with deep interest the progress of the play between them, it was a source of great satisfaction. Her brother's dis position to "sow his wild oats," too recklessly, had been the cause of deep anxiety to his family, and with such a lovely Christian wife as Evelyn would make him, he would be quite safe, she felt. One morning as Evelyn was speaking of leaving them soon, Mr. Willingham asked if he might not share the contents of her letters to Marguerite. "Of course," he said roguishly, "I shall be anxious 32 Under the Magnolias. to hear how you are pleased with your new home and country, and something of the aborigines who inhabit it. I shall expect to hear that you have a pet alligator, a mocking-bird and a jet black pickaninny among your collection of curios." "Well, as to the first," answered Evelyn, with an amused smile, "I will leave that entirely to Marguerite, as letters are no longer mine after they pass into her hands; and as for the last named pet, I will wait until you come South to select one for me, for I believe you take great pride in your excellent taste." "Yes, I think I have very good taste, and some day I will give you proof of it," he answered, looking so earnestly at her that it brought the blood to her fair face. "Here comes Marguerite," said Evelyn, with a feel ing of relief she could not fathom at the moment, "and she can answer the question of the joint letters herself." "Sis," said Mr. Willingham, turning to Marguerite, "Miss Melton has constituted you judge of a question relating to certain letters which you are to receive at a future date, the question being, whether or not you will consent for me to have a share in them? Now, of course', you will make that arrangement?" "Why, no," exclaimed Marguerite, "most emphati cally no, no ! If I were to make such an agreement I would not receive a single confidential letter from Louisiana. They would be all p's and q's." Evelyn was much amused as well as quite relieved at Marguerite's decision. "I want Evelyn to know that no one but myself shall Breaking Home Ties. 33 ever read a line of the letters she writes me, so that she will tell me all her best secrets, then I shall hear if she falls in love with a charming Creole." "Oh, I am going to be too busy to think of love, even for a moment," was Evelyn's prompt rejoinder. "Evelyn," said Marguerite, plaintively, "there was no use in the world for your getting that Quixotic idea into your pretty little head of going to the ragged edge of nowhere, 'to start life anew/ as you are so fond of saying. It is simply ridiculous and real horrid in you. I doubt if I ever see you again." And she took her seat beside Evelyn and put an arm around her, as she had so often done in the old school-days. "I do not know, dearie," answered Evelyn soothing ly, "but you need not forget me. I do not believe in that old stereotyped phrase that is as old as it is untrue, that 'absence conquers love/" and Evelyn fondly re turned the pressure of her friend's hand, while Mr. Willingham drew a sigh of intense satisfaction. "I am delighted to hear you express such sentiments, Miss Melton," he said, "for now Marguerite and I may still hope to hold a place in your memory, though sep arated by many miles." A rap was heard at the door, and a servant entered with a note for Miss Melton. Evelyn opened it and read aloud that her mother was quite ill with lung fe ver. She turned pale. Her mother ill and her father so many miles away from them. She prepared to leave immediately, and in an hour after she had received the note she was hurrying to her aunt's. 34 Under the Magnolias. Her mother seemed to suffer a great deal, and, al though she grew no worse, she did not improve, and for more than three weeks she was confined to her bed. In the meantime, a letter from her father had arrived, announcing his "cabin" ready for occupation. Evelyn had devoted herself to her mother with tireless patience. She had refused to see any but her most intimate friends, and then only for a few moments each day. She felt that her mother needed all her care ufitil her convalescence was fully established. One day the doc tor detained her a moment on the veranda, and speak ing gravely to her, said: "Miss Melton, your aunt informs me that you wish to leave for the South as soon as your mother's health will permit. I feel as if I ought to tell you that I think it a fortunate circumstance that you are going to a warmer climate, as that is the only chance of restor ing her to health. HeT lungs are seriously affected, and I doubt if she would live another year in this cli mate. I would advise you to begin your journey as early as next week, as I do not think she will improve here with the weather growing colder and more irritat ing to her lungs every day/' Evelyn's face had turned so very pale that for a mo ment he was sorry that he had told her, but the grate ful, happy look that followed quite relieved him as well as filled him with surprise, which was explained, when in glad accents she exclaimed : "I am so thankful to God for His goodness to us in ordering our lot as He has, for perhaps otherwise, I might have to give up my precious mother. Do you Breaking Home Ties. 35 think that the climate of Louisiana will entirely restore her to health, Dr. Lambert ?" "Yes, I think the mild climate of any of our Gutt States will effect a perfect cure of her lungs," he an swered positively. From that time Evelyn never had a doubt of the goodness of her Heavenly Father in directing their steps to the South, and never again did she murmur at leaving friends. It meant her mother's life', and that was more to her than all else on earth. The next day Dr. Lambert said that they could safely leave on the following Monday. Evelyn had her hands and heart both full as she packed their things, cared tenderly for her mother's slightest wish, and bade' fare well to her own and aunt's many friends. Marguerite and Arthur Willingham were the last to come, and after the' embraces and tearful kisses of the two girls, the tender hand-clasp of Arthur and low spo ken words of "good-bye, Evelyn, until we meet again/' which meant more than she wished it to, though she pretended not to see it, they took their leave. "Arthur," said Marguerite, as they wended their way home, "I hope some day you will bring Evelyn back." "Indeed I will, if she will come," he answered, and his face flushed as his sister expressed what he himself was thinking. "Of course, she will come. You don't suppose that a penniless girl with Evelyn's good sense, would refuse a fortune and a handsome fellow like you, do you ?" "I am not so positive that good sense figures much in 36 Under the Magnolias such matters," was the rejoinder, "but it is rather early in the day to discuss the chances of victory, nor have I given the subject as much thought as you seem to think I have." "From that day the subject did not again come up for discussion for many months. Marguerite spent the winter and spring in Europe as she had planned ; Arthur a portion of the time in Louisiana. The Farmer's Welcome in Louisiana. 37 CHAPTER III. THE FARMER'S WELCOME IN LOUISIANA. "His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed in him that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, 'This was a man.' " "Julius Caesar." WHILE Evelyn and her mother were passing their time at the home of their relative', Mr. Melton was actively engaged on his homestead claim. There was an excellent saw-mill near his place, from which he pro cured the yellow pine lumber necessary to build his "cabin," as he called the little cottage home. He in tended to build only a small house now and would add to it afterwards as he acquired more means, and had more time to devote to building. Mr. Bliss had circulated the news of Mr. Melton's loss of home in the North and his intention to settle among them as a neighbor. There were not many of the warm-hearted farmers in the settlement who were not willing to lend a helping hand and extend a warm wel come to their Northern neighbor, for they could sym pathize with poverty. Had they not lost their all in the great civil strife through they had so recently 38 Under the Magnolias. passed? Did not they, too, have to begin anew m life, and under such changed circumstances, with only their land left to them? When the lumber for Mr. Melton's house was hauled, there was no lack of willing hands to assist in the build ing. Indeed, there were so many workmen on the ground, that the space required for yards and garden was cleared off before sundown. Mrs. Bliss had provided a bountiful dinner for the; men, which was a great attraction to the colored por tion of the workmen, for they liked nothing so well as a good dinner, washed down with a drink of whiskey. They are childishly fond of gatherings of all kinds, even funerals. They attend log-rollings and neigh borhood reunions of every kind to the entire neglect of their own crops, seldom giving a thought to the future. Mr. Bliss spent all the time he could spare from his own farm in assisting his old friend and neighbor, for he felt that he could not do enough to show how pleased he was to have him among them. Mr. Melton worked diligently. He often pictured to himself the happi ness of the reuniting of his family in a new home of their own, even though it was an humble one. If only his wife and Evelyn were contented, he felt sure they would all be quite happy once more. He did not mind the work, for he had been accustomed to it all his life. He did not yet know of the Providential means that had been used to more thoroughly content one, at least, of the home-coming party to the change in their cir cumstances; for Evelyn, having never felt very much The Farmer's Welcome in Louisiana. 39 alarmed on her mother's account and apprehending no immediate danger, had not informed her father of her illness. Often in the evenings, as Mr. Bliss and Mr. Melton sat and talked over old times, they discussed the strange vicissitudes of fortune that had thus again made them neighbors. The second Sunday after Mr. Mel ton's arrival, as he was resting at the close of a hard week's work, Mrs. Bliss joined him and began telling of their church work, remarking : "I wish you would go to church with us to-morrow and get acquainted with all the neighbors ; you have met a good many of the men, but none of our nice ladies." "I don't remember meeting any of them except Miss Montgomery," he answered. "You will be sure to receive an invitation to dine with them on Sunday, and if I were you I would go and get acquainted with Mrs. Montgomery and the girls be fore Mrs. Melton and Evelyn come," Mrs. Bliss replied. Mr. Melton thought a moment, then answered, "Thank you, 'Liza ; I'll go with you and John if it will not put you to any inconvenience." "It won't be a bit of trouble," protested Mrs. Bliss; "we can go in the wagon instead of the buggy; or you can ride horseback. I guess that would be the best plan, for then you can be free to go out to dinner, if you wish to. I am so glad you are all Baptists, as that is the only denomination in this settlement."