Gibbons, a man
of wealth, who is seldom on his lands, and where the avenues are
therefore a little wild, and the roads a little rough.
"We came afterwards upon a road leading under the most magnificent oaks
that I ever saw. I felt as if I were under the arched roof of some
ancient cathedral.
"The trees were irregularly grouped and of immense size, throwing their
hundreds of arms far upon the background of heaven, and bearing the
drapery of the Spanish moss fold upon fold, as if they sought to keep
their raiment from touching the earth. I was perfectly delighted, and
think it the finest picture I have yet seen.
"Retracing our steps, we sought the plantation of Mr. Potter--a very
different one from that of Mr. Gibbons, as all was finish and neatness;
a fine mansion well stored with books, and some fine oaks, some of which
Mr. Potter had planted himself.
"Mr. Potter walked through the fields with us, and, stopping among the
negro huts, he said to a little boy, 'Call the children and give us some
singing.' The little boy ran off, shouting, 'Come and sing for massa;'
and in a few minutes the little darkies might be seen running through
the fields and tumbling over the fences in their anxiety to get to us,
to the number of eighteen.
"They sat upon the ground around us and began their song. The boy who
led sang 'Early in the Morning,' and the other seventeen brought in a
chorus of 'Let us think of Jesus.
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