An arrow-flight away brawled the river among bright islands.

The sky above the bronze sycamores was very blue, the air crystal, the sunshine heavenly mild.

The street was not crowded.

A Quaker in a broad-brimmed hat went by, and then a pretty girl, and then a minister talking broad Scotch, and then a future chief justice who had been to market and had a green basket upon his arm.

Gideon drew another breath of satisfaction.
"I've been thinking this long time of buying a negro, and now I can do it! Mocket says there's a likely man for sale down by the market.