The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 07, May, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 07, May, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
"That don't follow of course, my gosling," said the cotton-broker.
"You're green, young man! You're green! I swear, I'd give a good deal
to get sight of Duncan's wench. She must be devilish handsome, or he
wouldn't keep her so close."
Alfred Noble had always felt an instinctive antipathy to this man, who
was often letting fall some remark that jarred harshly with his romantic
ideas of women,--something that seemed to insult the memories of a
beloved mother and sister gone to the spirit-world. But he had never
liked him less than at this moment; for the sly wink of his eye, and
the expressive leer that accompanied his coarse words, were very
disagreeable things to be associated with that charming vision of the
circling doves and the innocent child.
SCENE II.
Time passed away, and with it the average share of changing events.
Alfred Noble became junior partner in the counting-house he had entered
as clerk, and not long afterward the elder partner died. Left thus
to rely upon his own energy and enterprise, the young man gradually
extended his business, and seemed in a fair way to realize his favorite
dream of making a fortune and returning to the North to marry. The
subject of Slavery was then seldom discussed. North and South seemed
to have entered into a tacit agreement to ignore the topic completely.
Alfred's experience was like that of most New Englanders in his
situation. He was at first annoyed and pained by many of the
peculiarities of Southern society, and then became gradually accustomed
to them. But his natural sense of justice was very strong; and this,
added to the influence of early education, and strengthened by scenes of
petty despotism which he was frequently compelled to witness, led him
to resolve that he would never hold a slave. The colored people in his
employ considered him their friend, because he was always kind and
generous to them. He supposed that comprised the whole of duty, and
further than that he never reflected upon the subject.
The pretty little picture at Pine Grove, which had made so lively
an impression on his imagination, faded the more rapidly, because
unconnected with his affections. But a shadowy semblance of it always
flitted through his memory, whenever he saw a beautiful child, or
observed any unusual combination of trees and vines.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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