Peter was really not many years older than the colonel, but prosperity
had preserved the one, while hard luck had aged the other prematurely.
Peter had taken care of him, and taught him to paddle in the shallow
water of the creek and to avoid the suck-holes; had taught him simple
woodcraft, how to fish, and how to hunt, first with bow and arrow, and
later with a shotgun. Through the golden haze of memory the colonel's
happy childhood came back to him with a sudden rush of emotion.
"Those were good times, Peter, when we were young," he sighed
regretfully, "good times! I have seen none happier."
"Yas, suh! yas, suh! 'Deed dem wuz good ole times! Sho' dey wuz, suh,
sho' dey wuz! 'Member dem co'n-stalk fiddles we use' ter make, an' dem
elderberry-wood whistles?"
"Yes, Peter, and the robins we used to shoot and the rabbits we used
to trap?"
"An' dem watermillions, suh--um-m-m, um-m-m-m!"
"_Y-e-s_," returned the colonel, with a shade of pensiveness. There
had been two sides to the watermelon question. Peter and he had not
always been able to find ripe watermelons, early in the season, and at
times there had been painful consequences, the memory of which came
back to the colonel with surprising ease. Nor had they always been
careful about boundaries in those early days. There had been one
occasion when an irate neighbour had complained, and Major French had
thrashed Henry and Peter both--Peter because he was older, and knew
better, and Henry because it was important that he should have
impressed upon him, early in life, that of him to whom much is given,
much will be required, and that what might be lightly regarded in
Peter's case would be a serious offence in his future master's.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40