made out of finer clay and look upon Adam as only a collateral branch of your ancestry; but I don’t know why. I never could understand the differences between us.”
“Well, John,” said Blandford, laughing, “what you don’t understand about it is just the difference, of course. I suppose it was the feudal way in which we lived that gave us our lordly baronial airs and feeling of superiority.”
“But you are not feudal, now,” went on John. “Since we licked you and stole your cotton and mules you’ve had to go to work just as we ‘damyankees,’ as you call us, have always been doing. And you’re just as proud and exclusive and upper-classy as you were before the war. So it wasn’t your money that caused it.”
“Maybe it was the climate,” said Blandford, lightly, “or maybe our negroes spoiled us. I’ll call old Jake in, now. I’ll be glad to see the old villain again.”
“Wait just a moment,” said John. “I’ve got a little theory I want to test. You and I are pretty much alike in our general appearance. Old Jake hasn’t seen you since you were fifteen. Let’s have him in and play fair and see which of us gets the watch. The old darky surely ought to be able to pick out his ‘young marster’
