Miss Taylor tried hard to think of something comforting to say, but words seemed inadequate to cheer the old soul; but after a few moments they rode on, leaving the kind face again beaming and dimpling.
And now the country town of Toomsville lifted itself above the cotton and corn, fringed with dirty straggling cabins of black folk. The road swung past the iron watering trough, turned sharply and, after passing two or three pert cottages and a stately house, old and faded, opened into the wide square. Here pulsed the very life and being of the land. Yonder great bales of cotton, yellow-white in its soiled sacking, piled in lofty, dusty mountains, lay listening for the train that, twice a day, ran out to the greater world. Round about, tied to the well-gnawed hitching rails, were rows of mules‚ÅÝ‚Äîmules with back cloths; mules with saddles; mules hitched to long wagons, buggies, and rickety gigs; mules munching golden ears of corn, and mules drooping their heads in sorrowful memory of better days.
Beyond the cotton warehouse smoked the chimneys of the seed-mill and the cotton-gin; a red livery-stable faced them and all about three sides of the square ran stores; big stores and small wide-windowed, narrow stores. Some had old steps above the worn clay sidewalks, and some were flush with the ground. All had a general sense of dilapidation‚ÅÝ‚Äîsave one, the largest and most imposing, a three-story brick. This was Caldwell‚Äôs ‚ÄúEmporium‚Äù; and here Bles stopped and Miss Taylor entered.
Mr. ¬ÝCaldwell himself hurried forward; and the whole store, clerks and customers, stood at attention, for Miss Taylor was yet new to the county.
She bought a few trifles and then approached her main business.
‚ÄúMy brother wants some information about the county, Mr. ¬ÝCaldwell, and I am only a teacher, and do not know much about conditions here.‚Äù