Ellis shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked at him intently for a few
moments, but seemed no wiser from his scrutiny. The tears started to Mr.
Winston's eyes as he said, "Many a kind word I'm indebted to you for--I am
George Winston--don't you remember little George that used to live on the
Carter estate?"
"Why, bless me! it can't be that you are the little fellow that used to go
home with me sometimes to Savanah, and that was sold to go to New Orleans?"
"Yes, the same boy; I've been through a variety of changes since then."
"I should think you had," smilingly replied Mr. Ellis; "and, judging from
appearances, very favourable ones! Why, I took you for a white man--and you
are a white man, as far as complexion is concerned. Laws, child!" he
continued, laying his hand familiarly on Winston's shoulders, "how you have
changed--I should never have known you! The last time I saw you, you were
quite a shaver, running about in a long tow shirt, and regarding a hat and
shoes as articles of luxury far beyond your reach. And now," said Mr.
Ellis, gazing at him with admiring eyes, "just to look at you! Why, you are
as fine a looking man as one would wish to see in a day's travel. I've
often thought of you. It was only the other day I was talking to my wife,
and wondering what had become of you.
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