districts of the South in the days gone by. It used to be said of my father's old negro foreman that he could be distinctly understood a mile or more away.
Hunting, which was enjoyed and indulged in more or less by nearly every citizen of the South, was also conducive to this characteristic development.
I remember an amusing instance illustrative of this point. I was out on one occasion before the war with a party of gentlemen hare-hunting with hounds. No guns were allowed. I had taken with me a very bright and intelligent little negro boy, who had become for a time separated from me. Later, while the dogs were chasing the hare from thicket to thicket, from meadow to woods, I came to a small open space surrounded by "old-field pines," and "broom-sedge" which had been cultivated in corn during the previous season. There, in the sunshine, unconscious of the presence of any one, sat the little darky packing damp sand over his foot, and withdrawing it–building what the boys called "frog-houses." Just then one of the huntsmen saw the hare, and gave a most vigorous vocal outburst, yelling for the dogs, "Here-here, here-here, here-here!" etc., endeavoring to place them still closer in pursuit. The little negro, without removing his eyes from the work with which he was occupied, simply uttered a most significant comment; he exclaimed, "Humph! Good gracious! dat man certainly kin holler."
The Federal, or "Yankee," yell, compared with that of the Confederate, lacked in vocal breadth, pitch, and resonance. This was unquestionably attributable to the fact that the soldiery of the North was drawn and recruited chiefly from large cities and towns, from factory districts, and from the more densely settled portions of the country.
Their surroundings, their circumstances of life and employment, had the effect of molding the character and temperament of the people, and at the same time of restraining their vocal development. People living and working in close proximity to one another have no absolute need for loud or
