Date: Sat, 26 Apr 2014 22:50:26 -0400
From: d.a. w <daw62@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Roommate Chapter 15    The Grand Tour

My apologies for the length of time it has taken for this chapter to be
added to the story.  Sometimes one's day job has to come first.

ALSO    Please remember to support Nifty with a donation.   It costs to
have this great site, and we all need to support it.


The Roommate    Chapter 15     The Grand Tour


The ending of Chapter 14

"Yes, let's start the tour!"  Beau exclaimed, and we walked down to the
horses, and with a little bit of help, both of us mounted, and with Beau
slightly in the lead, we began riding down the drive way. Lining the end of
the driveway was a stand of trees which cut off all view from the driveway
to whatever was beyond that large parking area behind the garage As we rode
closer to the trees I saw that there were paths through the trees, and Beau
was leading me toward one of those paths.  I could see that the paths were
paved with raked and manicured covering of woodchips.

I somehow felt like Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz" beginning the yellow
brick road to new sights and new adventures.

Chapter 15 The Grand Tour

As I followed Beau into the beginning of this path through the trees, I
figured out that the paths did not do straight through the tree stand;
rather they must have almost been at a forty five degree angle.  I wondered
why the paths would be designed like this until I figured out that until we
reached the end of this path through the trees that the rider saw nothing
but trees until the very end of the path.

When we emerged from the tree line, I saw that Beau had stopped and awaited
me.  I brought my horse up to be beside Beau's and looked out on the vista
in front of us.  Immediately in front of us was a very large area of sheds,
and beyond the sheds I could see the fields.  The fields nearest the sheds
were corn fields which I could recognize from the cornfields that dotted
the rural areas of Massachusetts.

When I pulled my horse to be beside Beau's horse, he began explaining.

"What you see immediately are the sleeping quarters for the involuntary
servants who are field workers.

These involuntary servants have been convicted for more serious crimes than
those who we use in the home, and also might not have shown any interest or
possible skills in household duties.  White collar criminals and those who
might have been in service jobs before their convictions are more likely to
be qualified for household assignments.  I thought we would begin the tour
here so that you can see how field servants live here at Pleasant Acres."

Beau paused here, looking out over the numerous structures in front of us.
I did not know whether he was expecting a comment from me, but at the
moment I was just taking in the scene, and could not think of anything to
say.

"Follow me and I'll show you where field involuntary servants spend their
time when not working."  I nodded my head and followed the fifteen feet to
one of the sheds.

Beau dismounted, and so did I.  We had not walked more than five feet when
a man came running out toward us.  He was in the black and white striped
clothing and like those I had seen on my first day at Pleasant Acres and
like the suits I remembered from that first day his black and white striped
suit gleamed in the sun.  His collar was also like the ones I had seen
before.  It was a band of steel probably an inch and a half to two inches
high, and about a half in thick.  The ankle and wrist cuffs were similarly
sized.  Up close I could that the collar and cuffs each had four "D" rings
spaced equally around the circumference.

His feet were in thick souled work boots, and like the rest of his attire,
his boots were clearly well worn, but they also were polished.

"Master Beau, SIR, my apologies, SIR.  SIR I was informed that you and your
guest would be inspecting the pens SIR, but was not told that the
inspection would be today, SIR.  SIR had I known, I would have had the
gangs here and ready for inspection, SIR."

"That's all right Supervisor.  I did not want any special routines for
today as I wanted my friend from Massachusetts to see how our involuntary
servants work and live exactly on a normal day.  So, that way I could give
him a true-to-life look at what your life is like here at Pleasant Acres.
He wants no special welcome shows or demonstrations.  In fact Supervisor I
am going to leave you with Master Frank here.

You are to answer all his questions fully and honestly.  Master Frank is
from Massachusetts and you know that the New England States do not use
involuntary servants, and I want him to hear from the involuntary servants
here exactly how their service here works.  I am going to the supervisors'
office and you should bring Master Frank there after you are done.

"SIR yes SIR" the servant replied.  At this time, Beau left the room, and
servant and I were looking at each other.  This situation was a surprise to
each of us, and so we both just stood and looked at each other without
talking.  After that initial time of silence however, the involuntary
servant spoke up.

"SIR, my involuntary servant number is 613 210 541, SIR.  SIR most
supervisors call us servants only by the last three digits, SIR, and so
normally a master or supervisor would call me 541, SIR"

"Well 541, I have never been in any involuntary servant quarters before so
tell what the quarters are like here, and also how different these are from
others that you know about."

"Well, let me take you to my pen, SIR."

"Lead the way."

Immediately 541 started walking down a concrete walkway.

"Sir all the servant pens here at Pleasant Acres are considered by the
servants to be as fine as we might ever have, SIR SIR some other servants
in my coffle have had some experience in other servant pens, and they will
tell you that those here at Pleasant Acres are the best that an involuntary
hard labor servant could ask for.  We are all grateful that we were
considered worthy of having our indenture purchased by Master Beau's
family, SIR.

By this time we had traveled down the sidewalk by several pens, but the
side curtains of these pens were down, and so I could not see inside.
Finally we arrived at 541's pen and he paused.  "Here we are! SIR."

What I saw did not seem great to me.  Three sides were open to the
elements, and the fourth was a concrete wall that went up to the roof.
Over the top of the side bars was a ceiling of bars. The floor was
concrete.

"Some of the aspects of the pen are mandated by state law, SIR." 541
continued.  The involuntary servants are offenders against the law, and
therefore the state reasons that they should be in a secure area overnight.
Therefore the walls of their sleeping area must be secure.  Here in
Tennessee since most of our year is fairly warm, most involuntary servant
sleeping pens are open bared cages.  However, here at Pleasant Acres our
pens are the envy of every other involuntary servant in the state, SIR.

SIR if I could show you to service area between the two pens of this Unit,
Unit16, you would see just how thoughtful the owners of Pleasant Acres are,
SIR.  SIR you would see a large water heater because the water for the
shower area is actually heated, SIR.  SIR the state does not mandate heated
water for involuntary servant showers, SIR, but here at Pleasant Acres, we
servants can have hot showers every Saturday, and warm showers all the
other days, SIR.  SIR you may not realize just how special that makes all
of us involuntary servants feel that the persons who control our lives have
decided to give us this consideration, SIR."

I nodded in agreement.  Actually 541's enthusiasm did make sense to me.  If
I worked hard in the fields, I would like to have a warm shower rather than
a cold shower every day, and the luxury of a hot shower once a week would
indeed make that very special and appreciated.  I could imagine that the
extra consideration would indeed impress the involuntary servants who were
probably protected by few restrictions on their treatment.

"That's not all, SIR!"  541 continued.  Look back here at the wall, SIR."

I walked back to the wall, and looked to see that I was supposed to notice.
I did notice the four shower heads that he had pointed to before.

Looking back down the wall all the way from the shower heads I did notice
four smaller pipes sticking out from the wall probably about five feet up
from the floor.  It the end of each pipe was a rubber stopper that looked a
little like a cross between a baby bottle nipple and the end of a penis.

"SIR these are our water spigots, SIR."  Here was a small pause.  "Aren't
they great SIR?"

I must admit that I did not quite see how fabulous a water source shaped
like a nipple could be.

"SIR.  I am sorry SIR.  I forgot what MASTER told us SIR.  SIR, MASTER told
us that SIR is not aware of common practices for involuntary servants are,
SIR.  SIR most masters have these water pipes down just about eighteen to
twenty inches from the floor, SIR.  SIR most actually put them on a wall
with just a little space to put your feet without slipping into the piss
and shit slot, SIR.  SIR, also, many masters see fit to make servants suck
on a spigot shaped like a cock SIR, to get water SIR.  SIR then the
overseers make fun of servants calling us a bunch of cock suckers, SIR.
SIR being an involuntary servant can be very damaging to a servant's self-
image, SIR, and being turned into a virtual cock sucker is just another
humiliation that some Masters do to servants to mentally demean them, SIR."

I noted his use of the word "demean" and realized this involuntary servant
was an educated man before he became 541, involuntary servant.

 I had noticed that in between where the shower heads were, and where the
water spigots were that there was probably six feet of an opening in the
floor.  The opening looked about ten inches wide and was about eighteen to
twenty-four inches from the wall and probably eight feet long.

"That's the piss/shit slot, SIR, and that also is special here at Pleasant
Acres.  The flushing water runs through it until lights out, SIR.  SIR
again SIR would not know that most places where involuntary servants are
employed as field servants, the slots are flushed only at the end of time
when servants can clean themselves after their work, SIR, and the piss and
shit slot can become really horrible smelly SIR.

SIR.  In addition we receive new straw every week, SIR.  SIR for indentured
servants an opportunity to serve your time at Pleasant Acres is considered
like going to indentured servant heaven, SIR.

"SIR before you leave, SIR, this servant would add another extremely
special aspect of our housing, SIR.

SIR in the cold part of the year SIR, pipes in the concrete floor have hot
water run through them, and so even though we do have the straw, that warm
water running through the pipes in the floor makes the concrete not ice
cold, but warm SIR, and when the temperature gets too low, SIR, if you
could see above the bars at the top of the cage, SIR, tarps come down to
trap the heat rising from the floor," and here 541 paused for dramatic
effect, and then 541 continued, "AND tarps also down the sides of the
cages, SIR, making our cages really special and snug, SIR."

Again 541 paused and looked at me.  I knew I was supposed to respond with
some affirmation of these special qualities, but actually their living
conditions still seemed primitive and demeaning to me.

Smiling at me 541 paused.

"SIR this servant realizes he has just kept talking and not allowing SIR
any questions, SIR, but SIR, when 541 mentioned that it was to give SIR
this explanation of our living conditions, SIR, the other servants here
made a list of things they believed from some of the other servants'
experiences in other locations, that I should be sure to point out to SIR
as being special and appreciated by us servants here at Pleasant Acres,
SIR."

"Thank you 541 for all this information, and 541 I am sure that as Master
Beau and I travel this summer I will see enough of other situations to
fully appreciate all these qualities here at Pleasant Acres."

"SIR yes SIR, if you were to visit almost any other plantation, you would
soon appreciate, as we do, how much better we are here than almost any
other place we have ever heard of, SIR.

SIR, do have any questions you would like to ask this servant?"  541 asked.

"No, 541, you have been very informative and clear. Thank you." I replied.

"SIR may I now escort SIR, back to MASTER BEAU, SIR?"

"

Yes, thanks," I replied.

We walked back from the cages down the walk and into another cage building,
but one side of this was not a set of bared cages, but was enclosed by
regular walls.

"SIR this building is the supervisor's office, SIR.  SIR we meet here when
called by the officers in charge of the servant gangs, SIR.  SIR it is
called the supervisor's office, but actually it is where supervisors are
given instructions by the guard supervisors.  It might be confusing to
some, but we know the difference between servant supervisors and guard
supervisors, SIR.  SIR for us servants, we just call guard supervisors as
"MASTER" SIR, because it is actually fairly unusual for any of us to ever
see the actually owner of us servants, SIR."

When we arrived at the door, 541, stopped.  "SIR there is no need for this
servant to enter here, SIR, and so this servant will leave you here and
return to this servant's assigned work for today, SIR.  SIR this servant
was honored to serve as your guide, SIR."  At this point 541 bowed, and
moved down a sidewalk and around the corner of another set of cages.  I
turned and entered to the door to the Guard Supervisor's Office.

Inside I saw Beau sitting at a desk reading a newspaper.

"Well, what did you find out on your tour of the involuntary servant pens?"
Beau asked me.

"I found out that 541 might believe your family could stroll across a pond
with how great you are.  You had him well prepped for his talk." was my
response.

"I am shocked and chagrined that you would believe that I would try to
sandbag you will some sort of shill."  Beau said, clearly peeved.

"I am sorry Beau.  I was just trying to rile you up.  My guide, 541, was
enthused to tell me what he considered so many extra considerations and
luxuries that, in his estimation, made Pleasant Acres the most best place
to serve a term of involuntary servitude in the entire state, and perhaps
even beyond this state but also in the entire country which uses
involuntary servants."  I paused here, expecting Beau to make a comment,
but he just continued to look at me disapprovingly.

"You think that I gave you a servant who serves as a sort of shill for us?"
Beau said quietly but sharply.

"Beau...no no I did not mean that at all.  I was just impressed at how much
that servant wanted to make it clear that Pleasant Acres was the best place
to serve a term of involuntary servitude that any servant here has ever
known or heard about."  I paused to see if my apology had worked.

"Frank seriously, I plan to give you the complete tour today.  I will in
the future allow you to choose at random a servant to talk to, and just to
be even more fair, I will not quiz you on what the servants say to you.  I
will tell you that we have heard from many servants when they find that
their involuntary service has been purchased by Pleasant Acres that they
applaud and sometimes literally jump with joy.  I have also heard that
other servants congratulate them on their good fortune."

I realized that Beau did not consider the conditions of involuntary
servitude at Pleasant Acres fair game for anything but serious and fair
comments.  With this point in mind, I tried again to make amends for my
flip comment.  "Beau, every servant I have meet here has repeated the same
point.  They all have expressed their thanks and luck for serving their
indenture here.  I know that you and your family could not achieve this
reputation and universal appreciation from everyone who would know if your
actions did not justify the accolades."

Beau looked at me seriously, then smiled, broke out laughing.  "GOT YOU
AGAIN!  I knew that you were just trying to get a reaction out of me, and
so I decided I would give you a reaction, but not the one you expected."

"Beau!  You are absolutely the sneakiest person I have ever known, and I
should know that you will always be a step ahead of me.  I should just give
up and admit that you always will be able to set up situation which will
allow you to say `Got Ya' again and again.  Now, how about that tour you
promised."

Beau smiled again.  "Absolutely, my friend.  Let's go for the tour.  I am
going to start you furthest from the house here, and we'll work our way
back."  As Buck spurred his horse into a gentle gallop I followed beside
him.

I looked to the right as I was spurring my horse to catch up with Beau.  It
looked like some sort of assembly area.  There seemed to be a sort of stage
area, and around the front of the stage there was a series of heavy
timbered and steel structures.  In front of the timbered and steel
structures was a very large area of concrete deck.  I could see that on the
concrete were embedded dark blue stripes of probably three inches in width
which marked a large box like area of some probably twenty foot square.  In
the middle of the squares were Roman numeral markings.  I could see the
Roman Numerals "I' through "V"

on the first row, and several more rows leading back from the first row. I
could catch a glimpse of the sun shining off metal on the structures.  I
was curious, but mindful of Beau's comment and how the tour would happen,
just kept my thoughts to myself.

Beau however noted my look and stopped.  "What you see over there is a
state required discipline area.

All entities who have the number of involuntary servants that Pleasant
Acres has is required to have a discipline area for servants.  Every one of
the structures you see over there on the right is one of the specific
punishment forms which are built to specifications of the state.  These
structures to punish involuntary servants with many different levels of
severity are required by the State of Tennessee and reflects what the State
of Tennessee believes is necessary to insure discipline and subservience by
the involuntary servants.  Do you want to look at that now, or let me start
you at the back of the plantation, and we'll work our way back here?"

"Beau, I am willing to follow your lead.  Why don't we follow your lead and
begin at the back and move back here to the home area."

"Sounds like a plan" Beau said, and he led me around the stage area to the
area where I could begin to appreciate the vast extent of Pleasant Acres.

In front of me was a gently rolling series of fields.  Between all the
fields was a series of paths, or perhaps since they were probably about ten
feet across, they would be better described as roads separating separate
fields which spread out as far as I could see.  The roads were made of what
looked like very small wood chips, and also some sort of white powdery
material Beau saw me looking down and answered my unasked question. "

The roads are made with sawdust from our sawmill where we harvest our
forested area on the mountains you see there on the horizon, The white
material you see which helps bind the wood material is from the rock quarry
which is up by the mountains you see on the horizon to the southeast.  The
roads define the various fields, but are not permanent, and if we need to
change fields for conservation considerations the roads are portable and
changed to fit changing needs."  Most of the servants who work in the
fields work barefooted because the fields are well maintained mixtures of
several types of soil which are mixed with fertilizer from our animal
herds, and therefore there is no need for boots and other expensive
footwear.

The width is designed to the size of wagons we use to bring produce back
from the fields to the processing area which I will also show you later.

As we rode along I could see gangs of servants working in various fields as
we rode past.  I saw fields of vegetables like lettuce and tomatoes and
kale.  I soon could not process the variety of produce growing here, and so
just began nodding as we rode past.  I also noted that the fields were
being tended by many gangs of field servants.  For each two of three gang
of servants tending to weeding, and cultivating and whatever else was being
done to make sure whatever was being grown there had personal care, there
seemed to be a supervisor riding a horse watching all the servants.  As the
servants moved in the fields I could see the sun shining off their round
steel collars.  All of the servant gangs I could see were in the classic
back and white striped prisoner pants and shirts.  The supervisors on their
beautifully groomed horses watched their servant gangs.  The supervisors
were very impressively dressed pressed shirts that did not show wrinkles,
or even damp spots even though they were out in the sun and moving around
the servant gangs.  Their riding breeches also looked both immaculate and
like Beau's and mine, fit tightly to their legs as they guided their horses
through their legs as well as the reins.  I realized that all the
supervisors looked much like George did when I met him on my first time
driving into Pleasant Acres.  I could occasionally hear shouts from a
supervisor.  When we came close to a gang working a tomato field, Beau and
I slowed our horses down to a walk then just stopped to watch.

I was impressed by the quiet surrounding the work.  I guess I was expecting
there to be a lot of conversations between workers.  I even had expected
there to be singing.  I guess I was thinking of old movies where the slaves
sang as they worked the fields.  These involuntary servants seemed very
focus on their work.  I looked at Beau.  "Are the servants always this
quiet?"

Beau continued looking at the work being done but answered me.  "Yes, we
want servants to concentrate on their task at hand.  We actually thought
about the "good old days" and encouraged chanting and so forth, but over
time, we have determined that having the servants concentrating on the task
at hand and not allowing any distraction from singing and talking between
servants makes for more efficient production.

I noticed that the supervisor moved up and down the whole gang as it
worked.  The horse was well trained and it did not walk on the produce, but
moved between the rows.  Suddenly I was a flash of movement, and then
several sounds came almost simultaneously.  The first was the sound of
leather striking a servant, and next was a muted gasp or moan from the
servant who had just received the blow, and then from each servant, "Boss
sorry boss.  This servant will work harder Boss."

"61 and 47, I have observed you today and yesterday, and you have not been
giving all your attention and care to your work.  Tonight when you get back
to the cages, I want you both to strip down on be at the bars,"

I looked at Beau for an explanation.  "The supervisor had noticed what I
also had thought I noted that those two were keeping up with the rest of
the gang, but were doing so by not picking all the product from the plants.
When they are told to be at the bars that means when they get back to the
cages after the end of the work day, they do not receive the serious
punishment from the state mandated devices, but the supervisor here will
come by, and they will be stripped down naked, and they will receive a
number of stripes from his punishment strap which you see on his wrist.
They will be aware that they may receive more or fewer stripes depending on
how seriously they try to work extra hard and carefully for the rest of the
day.  They know that they each will receive two strokes minimum; however,
if they try to perform better for the rest of the day then they will only
receive the two strokes.  But if the supervisor sees him slacking again, he
can give up to five strokes, or in extreme cases have him called out for a
session at one of the state discipline stations you saw earlier today.  It
is rare for any servant here to receive a state punishment.  As you have
noticed most servants are thankful to be here at Pleasant Acres where the
guards are very disciplined, and only give stripes when the servant has
earned them.  It is unfortunate, but on many plantations guards are known
to have favorites both to get out of earning stripes every day, and others
who earn stripes in the field and at the end of the day.  I can show you a
punishment strap when we get back to the main area.  It is about eighteen
inches long and about an inch and a half wide and about a quarter of an
inch thick.  It does pack a memorable sting, and a servant will work hard
and carefully to avoid its encouragement.

I noticed as the two servants stood there to receive their reprimand that I
saw that the servant not only had a round steel collar, but also round
steel wrist cuffs also.  Looking down I saw that the steel rings also
encircled their ankles.

Beau noticed what I had been observing.  "The State of Tennessee mandates
wrist and ankle cuffs.

Whoever purchases the servant's time of service, can specify round cuffs
like we use, or one of two types of the wrist and ankles bands that are
usually about an inch to inch-and-one half is width and about a quarter of
an inch width.  We feel the round cuffs allow the servant to still be
lockable but the cuffs themselves cause less damage to the wrists and
ankles.

After the drama we traveled past fields, and then came over a small ridge,
and when we got to the top Beau stopped.  When I stopped beside I saw
another whole aspect of Pleasant Acres.  In the valley down from the top of
the ridge upon which we had stopped was a series of fenced in animal pens,
and as a part of the open areas there also was a shed like pen for the
animals also.  As I looked down at the servants who were working with the
animal operation, I noted that they also were I striped shirt and pants,
but their boots were at least up to their knees, and the stripes were brown
and white.

"Here at Pleasant Acres we also raise and farm animals as well as crops.
However, a byproduct of the animals is a lot of manure, and we prefer for
this operation to be further from the house." Beau said.  He smiled at me,
and my scrunched nose conformed that these was definitely an air about the
animal farm part of Pleasant Acres that was not very pleasant... at least
to my nose.

"One interesting fact is that this stench is strong now, but the human nose
registers odors that are new.

Old news smells really stop being registered by the brain.  These servants
have to work with animal shit all day, but their noses are assaulted only
at the beginning of the day.  Supervisors tell us that actually servants
and even the supervisors' noses just stop noting the stench after the first
hours of work."

"I can't wait for that blessing of my no longer being able to smell comes
to me." I said vigorously.

"Right now my nose sensor is all too aware of the smell of the pigs and the
crap."  When I got closer I saw that there was actually more than one type
of pig being raised in these pens.  Beau started to rattle off their
various breeds, but I nodded and ignored.  The last piece of knowledge I
wanted to know was that this type of pig was better for human to have for
Christmas dinner, and another was better for bacon, and for rendering as a
part of a pig meat sausage.  He rattled on; I nodded, but I ignored.

The blessing was that soon, it was true.  I really started not to notice
the smell as we descended the hill and I actually came beside the animal
pens.  Some servants in their brown striped jumpsuits were watching over
the pigs and fed them their swill.  The pigs had a choice of being in a
large concrete floored shed, or the approximately same sized outdoor sloppy
muddy and whatever else filled outdoor area.  Some servants were in the
indoor shed, and they had squeegee type cleaner which they continually
pushed across the cement to clear it of the pig shit.  There were other
servants who would occasionally spray water across the floor to sort of
flush the remaining pig droppings into the muddy outdoor area at the back.
Thankfully we left the pigs behind, and went into a series of barns which
contained milk cows, The floors of the cow barn were continually cleaned by
brushing the cow manure into wheel barrows which were taken out to large
manure piles outside the cow barns.

"This is the milking parlor" Beau explained to me, which was a sparklingly
clean are where the milking machines were attaches to the cows' teats to
harvest the cows' milk.  Where the cows were kept in the milking area,
straw covered the floor, and the whole area was sparkling and the equipment
gleamed.

"I would much rather be with the cows than the pigs." I told Beau as we
left the cow barns, "You got the right." Beau agreed.  "However we do have
some servants who have actually volunteered for the pig barns."

"Why would any servant do anything like that?  Are these servants crazy?"
was my reply.

"No, they are willing to put up with that assignment because we know that
it is literally a shit job, and so we have agreed to give the servant two
days credit for each day spend in the pig pens.  Pleasant Acres was
responsible for getting the Tennessee legislature passing a law allowing
this double credit for extremely noxious involuntary servant jobs.  Of
course the double credit is not mandated; it is just allowed.  Again that
is one reason even the pig servants here are basically happy, and feel
fortunate for doing pig husbandry here.  Here they receive double credit.
On most pig operations the servants who have to work with the pigs put up
with a working environment as bad , and frequently worse than what you saw
here, but with no incentive to do a good job.  I also got to see the
chicken and the turkey operations.  I hated these also.  There was even a
rabbit barn.

After the rabbit barn, Beau looked at me.  "You look like you have seen all
you want to see of our confined animals operations.  There are more, but
are just variations on a theme that is constant for all.


Beau then led me down another of the extensive system of paths that led all
through the huge property which was Pleasant Acres.  As we were riding
toward another ridge, I rode leaned over to Beau.

"Beau, you have convinced me that Pleasant Acres is indeed an unbelievably
extensive agricultural operation.  Do you do any manufacturing?"

Beau paused.  "No my friend, we leave most of that to others.  We decided
long ago to stick with what we know, and for generations we have known how
to be successful farmers."

I looked at Beau.  "Beau, my friend, your family is clearly many, many,
things, but to call yourselves as just farmers really is so far from a
normal definition of the word that there has to be something in the
language that I do not know that fits Pleasant Acres, but I be damned if I
have a clue what that word is."

"Frank, from the time we met, I do believe this is a first.  You have
finally admitted that you just don't have a sufficiently magnificent term
to define my family's little plantation business here is Tennessee."

About that moment, as I was trying to think of some retort we came to the
crest of the ridge.  There, just over the ridge a tent had been erected,
and there were a number of the servants from the house that I recognized by
their distinctive house servant livery of black slacks, black
shoes... which were of course shined to the preverbal mirror like shine,
white shirt, and a gray jacket "Beau looked at me with the innocent smile.
"You probably don't realize it, but we have been gone most of the morning,
and it is time for a bit of lunch.  I asked the household staff if they had
a solution to the problem, as it seemed a waste of time to ride all the way
back to the house for lunch.  Wellllllll (Beau drew out his Southern drawl
here so it seemed like some soprano in an opera singing the last note of
her dying scene) you know what they suggested?  And just would not take
`No' for an answer?"

I did recognize that the question was rhetorical.

"Well, they insisted that they bring a little lunch out to us."

When are arrived at the crest of the hill, a servant was there to take hold
of our horses, and as we stepped down to the ground, servants directed up
under the tent where a table, complete with a white linen table cloth,
china, and silver flatware was set up for us.  Two very comfortable chairs
were also ready for us to sit down, and I must admit I did appreciate the
thick padding of the chair's seat and back was a true luxury after all the
riding we had done that morning.

We were first served a plate of cheese and several types of crackers.  We
then received a menu from which to choose our lunch complete with a
selection of three wines to go with the lunch.

I picked out a pork tenderloin, a fantastic potato salad, and fresh fruit
in a sort of compote and told the waiter to bring whatever wine he would
suggest to go with my choices.  When my food and wine arrived, I looked at
the strawberries in the fruit, I thought about the two servants who would
be reminded by some pain on their bodies that all strawberries had to be
picked so that free persons like Beau and myself would have sufficient and
succulent strawberries for out lunch.  Beau and I ate lunch and reminisced
about Williams.  When we finished our lunch, Beau said, well it is a bit of
a ride out to the last station.

However, it is uncivilized not to let a fine lunch settle.

With that Beau led me out of the tent, and toward a place just over the
ridge.  There two lounges had been set up, and complete with a masseuse we
both lay down, had an absolutely fantastic message, and I, took a nap.