Surely if ever a man had quitted the world that knew him, he was that man! He had died and yet he lived--lived horribly, without soul or heart, the empty shell of a man.
A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack, a wide level meadow.

The judge paused irresolutely, and turned his bleared face on his friend.
"We'll stop here, Solomon," he said rather wearily, for the spirit of boast and jest was quite gone out of him.

He glanced toward Carrington.
"Are you a resident of these parts, sir ?" he asked.
"I've been in Raleigh three days altogether," answered Carrington, falling into step at his side, and they continued on across the meadow in silence.
"Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths ?--the tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir ?" the judge presently inquired.
Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of thought.
They were elbowing the crowd now.

Here were men from the small clearings in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts, with their women folk trailing after them.

Here, too, in lesser numbers, were the lords of the soil, the men who counted their acres by the thousand and their slaves by the score.