It was not these rich and arrogant planters of the South, even, men like our kin in the Carolinas, men like those of the Sheraton family, who were the pillars of the Confederacy, or rather, of the secession idea.

Back of them, enshrouded forever in darkness--then in mystery, and now in oblivion which cannot be broken--were certain great figures of the commercial world in this land and in other lands.
These made a victim of our country at that time, even as a few great commercial figures seek to do to-day, and we, poor innocent fools, flew at each other's throats, and fought, and slew, and laid waste a land, for no real principle and to no gain to ourselves.

Nothing is so easy to deceive, to hoodwink, to blind and betray, as a great and innocent people that in its heart loves justice and fair play.
I fear, however, that while much of this talk was going on upon the galleries at Cowles' Farms, I myself was busier with the training of my pointer than I was with matters of politics.

I was not displeased when my mother came to me presently that afternoon and suggested that we should all make a visit to Dixiana Farm, to call upon our neighbors, the Sheratons.
"Mr.Orme says he would like to meet Colonel Sheraton," she explained, "and thee knows that we have not been to see our neighbors for some time now.

I thought that perhaps Colonel Sheraton might be moved to listen to me as well as to Mr.Orme, if I should speak of peace--not in argument, as thee knows, but as his neighbor." She looked at me a moment, her hand dusting at my coat.