So we could do no more than lose the plantation."
"Happy," said Colonel Talbot, gravely rebuking, "I am surprised at your
father. I thought he was a patriot."
"He is, sir, but he's a financier first, and I may be thankful for it
some day. I'll venture the prediction right now that if we lose this war
not a single Confederate bill will be in the possession of Thomas Langdon,
Sr. Others may have bales of it, worth less per pound than cotton,
but not your humble servant's father, who, I sometimes think, has lots
more sense than your humble servant's father's son."
Colonel Leonidas Talbot shook his head slowly.
"Finance is a mystery to me," he said. "In the dear old South that
I have always known, the law, the army and the church were and are
considered the high callings. To speak in fine, rounded periods was
considered the great gift. In my young days, Harry, I went with my
father by stage coach to your own State, Kentucky, to hear that sublime
orator, the great Henry Clay."
"What was he speaking about, sir?" asked Harry.
"I don't remember. That's not important. But surely he was the noblest
orator God ever created in His likeness. His words flowing like music
and to be heard by everybody, even those farthest from the speaker,
made my pulse beat hard, and the blood leap in my veins.
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