themselves by gazing at the settlements through which they were passing. Here and there were numerous cabins, with hordes of colored children playing about.
"This is the Southland, true enough," observed Dave. "Just see how happy those pickaninnies seem to be!"
"Yes, one would almost envy their care-free dispositions," answered Dunston Porter. "Their manner shows that it doesn't take money to make one happy."
They had passed through Richmond and were now on their way to Emporia. It was growing steadily warmer, and by noon all were glad enough to leave the car and go out on the observation platform at the end of the train.
The next stop was at Fayetteville and after that came Charleston. Long before this the snow had disappeared and the fields looked as green as in the fall at home.
"We'll be at Jacksonville when you wake up in the morning," said Dunston Porter, as they turned into their berths the second night on the train.
"Good! We can't get there any too quick for me!" answered Dave.
"You mustn't expect too much, Dave. You may be bitterly disappointed," remarked his uncle, gravely.
