Breakfast over and cigars lighted (the Colonel imported his own from Havana, each one enwrapped in a separate leaf, and especially excellent in quality), we strolled abroad. The negroes were not at work, of course; and, early as it was, we found their quarters all alive with merriment and expectation. Some of the younger men, dressed in their best clothes--generally suits of plain, substantial homespun, white or check shirts, and felt hats--went from house to house, wishing the inmates the compliments of the season, blended with obstreperous, broad-mouthed laughter; in some instances carrying nosegays, received, in common with the givers, with immense delight and coquetry on the part of the females. These wore neatly-made, clean cotton dresses, with gaily-colored handkerchiefs arranged turban fashion upon their heads. Many of the old men and not a few of the old women were smoking clay or corncob pipes; the children laughed, cried, played with each other, rolled upon the ground, and disported themselves as children, white, black, or particolored, do all the world over; the occasional twang of a banjo and a fiddle was heard, and everything looked like enjoyment and anticipation. Of course, the huts of the future brides constituted the centre of attraction: from the chattering of tongues within we inferred that the wedding dresses were exposed for the admiring inspection of the negro population. The Colonel had just arrived at the peroration of an eloquent eulogium of the scene, when the overseer appeared at the end of the avenue of orange trees, and presently drew rein beside us, his countenance exhibiting marks of dissatisfaction. 'I've had trouble with them boys over to my place, Colonel,' he said, briefly, and looking loweringly around, as though he would be disposed to resent any listening to his report on the part of the negroes. 'Why, what's the matter with them?' asked his employer, hastily. 'Well, it 'pears they got some rotgut--two gallon of it--from somewheres last night, and of course, all got as drunk as h----, down to the old shanty behind the gin--they went thar so's I shouldn't suspicion nothin'. They played cards, and quarrelled and fit, and Hurry's John he cut Timberlake bad--cut Wilkie, too, 'cross the hand, but ain't hurt him much!' 'Hurry's John! I always knew that nigger had a d----d ugly temper!' I'll sell him, by ---- ! I won't have him on the place a week longer. Is Timberlake badly hurt?' 'He's nigh killed, I reckon. Got a bad stick in the ribs, and a cut in the shoulder, and one in the face--bled like a hog, he did! Reckon he may get over it. I've done what I could for him.' The Colonel's handsome face was inflamed with passion; he strode up and down, venting imprecations of an intensity only to be achieved by an enraged Southerner. Presently he stopped and asked abruptly: 'Where did they get the liquor from?' 'I don't know. Most likely from old Whalley, down to the landing. He's mean enough for anything.'