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 gleaners. A rattlesnake crossed the road to coil by the edge of the ditch. Manning dismounted and fearlessly killed it with his riding whip. The incident impressed Virginia. Where the road wound along the edge of the marsh, full-grown families of summer ducks splashed noisily from the rushes and cannoned for the distant woods. Soon the road plunged into the pine forest, and for miles the shoeless hoofs of their horses fell noiselessly upon the aromatic blanket of pine straw.

As they neared the plantation gates there were signs of occupation; far to the left they heard the ringing blows of an ax and with the measured beat a full, rich voice chanting a plantation melody. In the distance an unseen driver apostrophized a team of mules. "Whoa, mewl! Min' yo'se'f dah, mewl!" To Virginia the language was foreign, unintelligible.

These mingled cadences with their sylvan setting recalled to Virginia a scene from an opera; impressed her powerfully. She began to understand why it was that a person who had once inhaled the soft scented breath of a Carolina forest would always desire to return. There was little to describe in the surroundings; everything to feel. She could see why all of Manning's descriptions had sounded so colorless, also why he was always so ready to return.

When they reached the gate Virginia was strongly moved; on either side there was a group of the plantation negroes, men and women, all in their holiday finery, all chattering and capering with joy. Although she could not understand the words there was no mistaking their welcome. Virginia put both hands to her lips and threw them an armful of kisses. Her eyes grew dim. 256