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The colonel turned the map to Chad's side of the table. Every man in the room stood up and craned his head forward. "Now, Chad," said the colonel, "this map is a plan of our lan' same as if you were lookin' down on it. Here is the road to Caartersville. See that square, black mark? That's Caarter Hall. This is the marsh, and that is the coal hill.
In this he was assisted by his negro servant Chad, an abbreviation of Nebuchadnezzar, who was chambermaid, cook, butler, body-servant, and boots, and who by his marvelous tales of the magnificence of "de old fambly place in Caartersville" had established a credit among the shopkeepers on the avenue which would have been denied a much more solvent customer.
"I am sorry I haven't the map, but we can get along very well with this;" and he unloaded the cruets. "This mustard-pot, here, is Caartersville, the startin'-point of our system. This town, suh, has now a population of mo' than fo' thousand people; in five years it will have fo'ty thousand.
"Take, for instance, the town of Caartersville: look at that peaceful village which for mo' than a hundred years has enjoyed the privileges of free government; and not only Caartersville, but all our section of the State." "Well, what's the matter with Cartersville?" asked Fitz, lighting his cigar. "Mattah, suh! Just look at the degradation it fell into hardly ten years ago.
Fitz drew nearer, and bent his ear in attention. "I, George Fairfax Caarter of Caarter Hall, Caartersville, Virginia, bein' of sound mind" The pen scratched away. "Everything down but the sound mind," said Fitz; "but go on." "Do hereby," continued the colonel. "What's all this for another challenge?" said Fitz, looking up.
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