On the morrow I should begin a
new life in a world of wonders, and I rejoiced to think that there was
more than merchandise in the prospect.
CHAPTER VI.
TELLS OF MY EDUCATION.
I had not been a week in the place before I saw one thing very clear--
that I should never get on with Mr. Lambie. His notion of business was
to walk down the street in a fine coat, and to sleep with a kerchief
over his face in some shady veranda. There was no vice in the creature,
but there was mighty little sense. He lived in awe of the great and
rich, and a nod from a big planter would make him happy for a week. He
used to deafen me with tales of Colonel Randolph, and worshipful Mr.
Carew, and Colonel Byrd's new house at Westover, and the rare fashion
in cravats that young Mr. Mason showed at the last Surrey horse-racing.
Now when a Scot chooses to be a sycophant, he is more whole-hearted in
the job than any one else on the globe, and I grew very weary of Mr.
Lambie. He was no better than an old wife, and as timid as a hare
forbye. When I spoke of fighting the English merchants, he held up his
hands as if I had uttered blasphemy. So, being determined to find out
for myself the truth about this wonderful new land, I left him the
business in the town, bought two good horses, hired a servant, by name
John Faulkner, who had worked out his time as a redemptioner, and set
out on my travels.
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