The Major drove. The young guest would gladly have talked with Barbara
as she sat back of him and behind her father; but Garnet held his
attention. Crossing Turkey Creek battle-ground----
"Just look at those oats! See that wheat! Cotton, ah, but you ought to
see the cotton down in Blackland!"
When the pike was dusty and the horses walked they were frequently
overtaken and passed by cavalcades of lank, hard-faced men in dingy
homespun, and cadaverous women with snuff-sticks and slouched
sun-bonnets. Major Garnet bowed to them.
"Those are our Sandstone County mountaineers; our yeomanry, sir. Suez
holds these three counties in a sort o' triple alliance. You make a
great mistake, sir, to go off to-morrow without seeing the Widewood
district. You've seen the Alps, and I'd just like to hear you say which
of the two is the finer. There's enough mineral wealth in Widewood alone
to make Suez a Pittsburg, and water-power enough to make her a
Minneapolis, and we're going to make her both, sir!" The monologue
became an avalanche of coal, red hematite, marble, mica, manganese, tar,
timber, turpentine, lumber, lead, ochre, and barytes, with signs of
silver, gold, and diamonds.
"Don't you think, however----"
"No, sir! no-o-o! far from it----"
A stifled laugh came from where Johanna's face darkened the corner it
occupied. Barbara looked, but the maid seemed lost in sad reverie.
"Barb, yonder's where Jeff-Jack and I stopped to dine on blackberries
the day we got home from the war. Now, there's the railroad cut on the
far side of it. There, you see, Mr. Fair, the road skirts the creek
westward and then northwestward again, leaving Rosemont a mile to the
northeast. See that house, Barb, about half a mile beyond the railroad?
There's where the man found his plumbago." The speaker laughed and told
the story. The discoverer had stolen off by night, got an expert to come
and examine it, and would tell the result only to one friend, and in a
whisper. "'You haven't got much plumbago,' the expert had said, 'but
you've got dead oodles of silica.' You know, Barb, silica's nothing but
flint, ha-ha!"
Fair smiled. In his fortnight's travel through the New Dixie plumbago
was the only mineral on which he had not heard the story based.
A military horseman overtook the carriage and slackened to a fox-trot at
Garnet's side. "Captain Champion, let me make you acquainted with Mr.
Fair. Mr. Fair and his father have put money into our New Dixie, and
he's just going around to see where he can put in more. I tell him he
can't go amiss. All we want in Dixie is capital."
"Mr. Fair doesn't think so," said Barbara, with great sweetness.
"Ah! I merely asked whether capital doesn't seek its own level. Mustn't
its absence be always because of some deeper necessity?"
Champion stood on his guard. "Why, I don't know why capital shouldn't be
the fundamental need, seh, of a country that's been impoverished by a
great waugh!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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