A NEW ARRIVAL IN THE TOWN.
A town pleasantly situated in the south-western part of Tennessee, the
name of which for the present shall be Westminster, was at the time of
which we write one of the most cosmopolitan places imaginable for its
size--that is, for a southern town. It contained probably two thousand
regular inhabitants, but these were constantly augmented, it being at
times a rallying point for tourists from every clime, and the temporary
abode of men who, in the aggregate, during a season, came well-nigh
representing every shade of opinion, if not every phase of character.
A quiet little hotel, or perhaps it would be better to say a residence,
with accommodations for a limited number of guests, was situated near
the outskirts, and so pleasant in all respects were the location,
surroundings and appointments, that its name, Harmony Place, did not
seem at all inappropriate. In two important respects it was unlike
any other hostelry in the town--there was no bar, and the guests all
had an air of respectability in keeping with the house itself. It was
kept by a planter, in ordinary financial circumstances, whose name
was Marshall; he was assisted in his duties by a colored roustabout
of uncertain ancestry, a circumscribed present, and a future wholly
undefined. Mr. Marshall's wife, and daughter Claire, did their part
by generously entertaining the visitors. There were at the time of
which we write three guests--a lawyer named Brown, who had established
himself at Westminster; a doctor calling himself Slocum, who was
giving the town a trial with a view to locating in it if the patronage
warranted; and a tourist whose name was given as Reverend Fitzallen,
and whose object seemed to be the pursuit of health, pleasure and
information, and incidentally, the dissemination of the gospel
according to his faith. Naturally, with so limited a circle of patrons,
each having been there for some length of time, the associations all
around were more like those in a family than such as exist between
landlord and guests. An evening in the parlor with everybody but the
Ethiopian present, the daughter singing to her own accompaniment on the
piano, while the doctor turned the music for her, was often enjoyed,
and there was rarely if ever a discordant circumstance to mar the
serenity of these occasions.
It was early in September, 189--, the most enjoyable part of the year
in Westminster. A man, who was readily distinguishable from the
town-folk, not only by his strange face but by his attire, and by that
indescribable air which appears the more plainly the more a stranger
tries to discard or conceal it, made his way leisurely to the gate
fronting Harmony Place, and continued his way up the walk leading to
the door. He was met by Mrs. Marshall and informed, in response to his
inquiry, that he could obtain lodgings there. The colored man took
the guest's valise and led the way to a room on the second floor.
After washing himself and brushing off the dust from his clothes, the
stranger reappeared in the sitting room, and taking up a paper waited
the announcement that refreshments were ready, which was not long in
coming.
He was somewhat above medium height, well proportioned, not unusually
well dressed, but still appeared presentable in good society, and had
a countenance which, while not decidedly handsome, was regular and of
that caste which attracts attention; his voice was quite pleasant, his
natural conversational faculty proved to be good, and he was so well
fortified with current facts and all the pleasantries of the day, that
before the meal was over he was quite in harmony with the hostess, who
was not only happy to answer any question he asked, but look advantage
of every opportunity to propound queries for herself. Within an hour
from the time of arrival, the new guest seemed to be nearly as well
acquainted as if he had been an inmate of the house for a month at
least. This ability of rapidly forming acquaintance is very rare; and
particularly in the case of travelers, no amount of money or graces can
recompense its absence. Those who possess it do not need an extended
reference to its usefulness to be made aware thereof, while those who
are not in possession of it can never be made fully to understand its
value by means of cold type and white paper.
The landlady has learned the name of the latest arrival before the
reader has--it is Charles Durant, aged thirty, and he comes from
the West--a rather indefinite abiding place to those of us who are
residents of, or are familiar with, that division of our country. It
is satisfactory, however, to a majority of our eastern and southern
brethren who have never placed feet upon the shores of the Missouri,
or crossed its waters, and who seem to entertain a vague idea that
Westerners all come from one place, and are all alike in most respects.
Later in the day Durant took a stroll through the suburbs of the town,
and returning was introduced to Mr. Marshall, to the guests, as they
appeared one by one, with all of whom he was soon on the most cordial
terms, and finally to the young lady, the sole representative on earth
of her devoted parents, who, being twenty years of age, as pretty as
a dream, well informed, and altogether attractive, was not likely to
bear their name much longer, albeit at this time reveling in "maiden
meditation, fancy free."
It was truly an interesting circle and the interest did not abate in
the least by reason of the latest arrival.