…rule; and when at last I beheld the plum-tree, upon which I had built such hopes, groaning beneath the weight of countless reels of cotton,! Gave way to an outburst of demoniacal fury. Seizing my spade, I struck at the tree again and again, till I had lopped off all the branches and the pond was covered knee-deep in debris. I then essayed to get back to the potato plot, but found I could not stir — I had walled myself in, and the cotton had twisted itself in countless layers round my legs, binding them firmly together. In this deplorable plight I was compelled to stand hour after hour with the sun scorching me mercilessly, and my throat becoming more and more parched and blocked. I cannot describe the sufferings I endured; no devil in hell could have fared worse. At length I fainted; there was a delicious blank,…