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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Diddie, Dumps, and Tot,
+by Louise-Clarke Pyrnelle
+
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+Title: Diddie, Dumps, and Tot
+
+Author: Louise-Clarke Pyrnelle
+
+Release Date: January, 2004  [EBook #4992]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on April 7, 2002]
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+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DIDDIE, DUMPS, AND TOT ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Jim Weiler, xooqi.com
+
+
+
+                         DIDDIE, DUMPS, AND TOT
+
+ OR
+
+PLANTATION CHILD-LIFE
+
+ by
+
+LOUISE-CLARKE PYRNELLE
+
+ TO MY DEAR FATHER
+ DR. RICHARD CLARKE
+ OF SELMA, ALABAMA
+ MY HERO AND MY BEAU
+ IDEAL OF A GENTLEMAN
+ I DEDICATE THIS BOOK
+ WITH THE LOVE OF HIS
+ DAUGHTER
+
+  PREFACE
+
+IN writing this little volume, I had for my primary object the idea of
+keeping alive many of the old stories, legends, traditions, games,
+hymns, and superstitions of the Southern slaves, which, with this
+generation of negroes, will pass away. There are now no more dear old
+"Mammies" and "Aunties" in our nurseries, no more good old "Uncles" in
+the workshops, to tell the children those old tales that have been
+told to our mothers and grandmothers for generations-- the stories
+that kept our fathers and grandfathers quiet at night, and induced
+them to go early to bed that they might hear them the sooner.
+
+Nor does my little book pretend to be any defence of slavery. I know
+not whether it was right or wrong (there are many pros and cons on the
+subject); but it was the law of the land, made by statesmen from the
+North as well as the South, long before my day, or my father's or
+grandfather's day; and, born under that law a slave-holder, and the
+descendant of slave-holders, raised in the heart of the cotton
+section, surrounded by negroes from my earliest infancy, "I KNOW
+whereof I do speak"; and it is to tell of the pleasant and happy
+relations that existed between master and slave that I write this
+story of Diddie, Dumps, and Tot.
+
+The stories, plantation games, and Hymns are just as I heard them in
+my childhood. I have learned that Mr. Harris, in Uncle Remus, has
+already given the "Tar Baby"; but I have not seen his book, and, as
+our versions are probably different, I shall let mine remain just as
+"Chris" told it to the "chil'en."
+
+I hope that none of my readers will be shocked at the seeming
+irreverence of my book, for that intimacy with the "Lord" was
+characteristic of the negroes. They believed implicitly in a Special
+Providence and direct punishment or reward, and that faith they
+religiously tried to impress upon their young charges, white or black;
+and "heavy, heavy hung over our heads" was the DEVIL!
+
+The least little departure from a marked-out course of morals or
+manners was sure to be followed by, "Nem' min', de deb'l gwine git
+yer."
+
+And what the Lord 'lowed and what he didn't 'low was perfectly well
+known to every darky. For instance, "he didn't 'low no singin' uv
+week-er-day chunes uv er Sunday," nor "no singin' uv reel chunes"
+(dance music) at any time; nor did he "'low no sassin' of ole
+pussons."
+
+The "chu'ch membahs" had their little differences of opinion. Of
+course they might differ on such minor points as "immersion" and
+"sprinklin'," "open" or "close" communion; but when it came to such
+grave matters as "singin' uv reel chunes," or "sassin' uv ole
+pussons," Baptists and Methodists met on common ground, and stood
+firm.
+
+Nor did our Mammies and Aunties neglect our manners. To say "yes" or
+"no" to any person, white or black, older than ourselves was
+considered very rude; it must always be "yes, mam," "no, mam"; "yes,
+sir," "no, sir"; and those expressions are still, and I hope ever will
+be, characteristic of Southerners.
+
+The child-life that I have portrayed is over now; for no hireling can
+ever be to the children what their Mammies were, and the strong tie
+between the negroes and "marster's chil'en" is broken forever.
+
+So, hoping that my book (which claims no literary merit) will serve to
+amuse the little folks, and give them an insight into a childhood
+peculiar to the South in her palmy days, without further preface I
+send out my volume of Plantation Child-life.
+
+                       LOUISE-CLARKE PYRNELLE.
+
+                                                         COLUMBUS, GA.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+I. DIDDIE, DUMPS, AND TOT
+II. CHRISTMAS ON THE OLD PLANTATION
+III. MAMMY'S STORY
+IV. OLD BILLY
+V. DIDDIE'S BOOK
+VI. UNCLE SNAKE-BIT BOB'S SUNDAY-SCHOOL
+VII. POOR ANN
+VIII. UNCLE BOB'S PROPOSITION
+IX. AUNT EDY'S STORY
+X. PLANTATION GAMES
+XI. DIDDIE IN TROUBLE
+XII. HOW THE WOODPECKER'S HEAD AND THE ROBIN'S BREAST CAME TO BE RED
+XIII. A PLANTATION MEETING, AND UNCLE DANIEL'S SERMON
+XIV. DIDDIE AND DUMPS GO VISITING
+XV. THE FOURTH OF JULY
+XVI. "'STRUCK'N UV DE CHIL'EN"
+XVII. WHAT BECAME OF THEM
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+  DIDDIE, DUMPS AND TOT
+
+  CHAPTER I
+
+ DIDDIE, DUMPS AND TOT
+
+THEY were three little sisters, daughters of a Southern planter, and
+they lived in a big white house on a cotton plantation in Mississippi.
+The house stood in a grove of cedars and live-oaks, and on one side
+was a flower-garden, with two summer-houses covered with climbing
+roses and honey-suckles, where the little girls would often have
+tea-parties in the pleasant spring and summer days. Back of the house
+was a long avenue of water-oaks leading to the quarters where the
+negroes lived.
+
+Major Waldron, the father of the children, owned a large number of
+slaves, and they loved him and his children very dearly. And the
+little girls loved them, particularly "Mammy," who had nursed their
+mother, and now had entire charge of the children; and Aunt Milly, a
+lame yellow woman, who helped Mammy in the nursery; and Aunt Edy, the
+head laundress, who was never too busy to amuse them. Then there was
+Aunt Nancy, the "tender," who attended to the children for the
+field-hands, and old Uncle Snake-bit Bob, who could scarcely walk at
+all, because he had been bitten by a snake when he was a boy: so now
+he had a little shop, where he made baskets of white-oak splits for
+the hands to pick cotton in; and he always had a story ready for the
+children, and would let them help him weave baskets whenever Mammy
+would take them to the shop.
+
+Besides these, there were Riar, Chris, and Dilsey, three little
+negroes, who belonged to the little girls and played with them, and
+were in training to be their maids by-and-by.
+
+Diddie, the oldest of the children, was nine years of age, and had a
+governess, Miss Carrie, who had taught her to read quite well, and
+even to write a letter. She was a quiet, thoughtful little girl, well
+advanced for her age, and lady-like in her manners.
+
+Dumps, the second sister, was five, full of fun and mischief, and gave
+Mammy a great deal of trouble on account of her wild tomboyish ways.
+
+Tot, the baby, was a tiny, little blue-eyed child of three, with long
+light curls, who was always amiable and sweet-tempered, and was petted
+by everybody who knew her.
+
+Now, you must not think that the little girls had been carried to the
+font and baptized with such ridiculous names as Diddie, Dumps, and
+Tot: these were only pet names that Mammy had given them; but they had
+been called by them so long that many persons forgot that Diddie's
+name was Madeleine, that Dumps had been baptized Elinor, and that Tot
+bore her mother's name of Eugenia, for they were known as Diddie,
+Dumps and Tot to all of their friends.
+
+The little girls were very happy in their plantation home. 'Tis true
+they lived 'way out in the country, and had no museums nor toy-shops
+to visit, no fine parks to walk or ride in, nor did they have a very
+great variety of toys. They had some dolls and books, and a baby-house
+furnished with little beds and chairs and tables; and they had a big
+Newfoundland dog, Old Bruno; and Dumps and Tot both had a little
+kitten apiece; and there was "Old Billy," who once upon a time had
+been a frisky little lamb, Diddie's special pet; but now he was a
+vicious old sheep, who amused the children very much by running after
+them whenever he could catch them out-of-doors. Sometimes, though, he
+would butt them over and hurt them and Major Waldron had several times
+had him turned into the pasture; but Diddie would always cry and beg
+for him to be brought back and so Old Billy was nearly always in the
+yard.
+
+Then there was Corbin, the little white pony that belonged to all of
+the children together, and was saddled and bridled every fair day, and
+tied to the horse-rack, that the little girls might ride him whenever
+they chose; and 'twas no unusual sight to see two of them on him at
+once, cantering down the big road or through the grove.
+
+And, besides all these amusements, Mammy or Aunt Milly or Aunt Edy, or
+some of the negroes, would tell them tales; and once in a while they
+would slip off and go to the quarters, to Aunt Nancy the tender's
+cabin, and play with the little quarter children. They particularly
+liked to go there about dark to hear the little negroes say their
+prayers.
+
+Aunt Nancy would make them all kneel down in a row, and clasp their
+hands and shut their eyes: then she would say, "Our Father, who art in
+heaven," and all the little darkies together would repeat each
+petition after her; and if they didn't all keep up, and come out
+together, she would give the delinquent a sharp cut with a long switch
+that she always kept near her. So the prayer was very much interrupted
+by the little "nigs" telling on each other, calling out "Granny" (as
+they all called Aunt Nancy), "Jim didn't say his 'kingdom come.'"
+
+"Yes I did, Granny; don't yer b'lieve dat gal; I said jes' much
+'kingdom come' ez she did."
+
+And presently Jim would retaliate by saying,
+
+"Granny, Polly nuber sed nuf'n 'bout her 'cruspusses.'"
+
+"Lord-ee! jes' lis'n at dat nigger," Polly would say. "Granny, don't
+yer min' 'im; I sed furgib us cruspusses, jes' ez plain ez anybody,
+and Ginny hyeard me; didn't yer, Ginny?"
+
+At these interruptions Aunt Nancy would stop to investigate the
+matter, and whoever was found in fault was punished with strict and
+impartial justice.
+
+Another very interesting time to visit the quarters was in the morning
+before breakfast, to see Aunt Nancy give the little darkies their
+"vermifuge." She had great faith in the curative properties of a very
+nauseous vermifuge that she had made herself by stewing some kind of
+herbs in molasses, and every morning she would administer a
+teaspoonful of it to every child under her care; and she used to say,
+
+"Ef'n hit want fur dat furmifuge, den marster wouldn't hab all dem
+niggers w'at yer see hyear."
+
+Now, I don't know about that; but I do know that the little darkies
+would rather have had fewer "niggers" and less "furmifuge;" for they
+acted shamefully every time they were called upon to take a dose. In
+the first place, whenever Aunt Nancy appeared with the bottle and
+spoon, as many of the children as could get away would flee for their
+lives, and hide themselves behind the hen-coops and ash-barrels, and
+under the cabins, and anywhere they could conceal themselves.
+
+But that precaution was utterly useless, for Aunt Nancy would make
+them all form in a line, and in that way would soon miss any
+absentees; but there were always volunteers to hunt out and run down
+and bring back the shirkers, who, besides having to take the
+vermifuge, would get a whipping into the bargain.
+
+And even after Aunt Nancy would get them into line and their hands
+crossed behind their backs, she would have to watch very closely, or
+some wicked little "nig" would slip into the place of the one just
+above him, and make a horrible face, and spit, and wipe his mouth as
+if he had just taken his dose; and thereby the one whose place he had
+taken would have to swallow a double portion, while he escaped
+entirely; or else a scuffle would ensue, and a very animated
+discussion between the parties as to who had taken the last dose; and
+unless it could be decided satisfactorily, Aunt Nancy would administer
+a dose to each one; for, in her opinion, "too much furmifuge wuz
+better'n none."
+
+And so you see the giving of the vermifuge consumed considerable time.
+After that was through with she would begin again at the head of the
+line, and making each child open its mouth to its fullest extent, she
+would examine each throat closely, and, if any of them had their
+"palates down," she would catch up a little clump of hair right on top
+of their heads and wrap it around as tightly as she could with a
+string, and then, catching hold of this "top-knot," she would pull
+with all her might to bring up the palate. The unlucky little "nig" in
+the meanwhile kept up the most unearthly yells, for so great was the
+depravity among them that they had rather have their palates down than
+up. Keeping their "palate locks" tied was a source of great trouble
+and worriment to Aunt Nancy.
+
+The winter was always a great season with the children; Mammy would
+let them have so many candy-stews, and they parched "goobers" in the
+evenings, and Aunt Milly had to make them so many new doll's clothes,
+to "keep them quiet," as Dumps said; and such romps and games as they
+would have in the old nursery!
+
+There were two rooms included in the nursery-- one the children's
+bedroom and the other their playroom, where they kept all their toys
+and litter; and during the winter bright wood fires were kept up in
+both rooms, that the children might not take cold, and around both
+fireplaces were tall brass fenders that were kept polished till they
+shone like gold. Yet, in spite of this precaution, do you know that
+once Dilsey, Diddie's little maid, actually caught on fire, and her
+linsey dress was burned off, and Aunt Milly had to roll her over and
+over on the floor, and didn't get her put out till her little black
+neck was badly burned, and her little wooly head all singed. After
+that she had to be nursed for several days. Diddie carried her her
+meals, and Dumps gave her "Stella," a china doll that was perfectly
+good, only she had one leg off and her neck cracked; but, for all
+that, she was a great favorite in the nursery, and it grieved Dumps
+very much to part with her; but she thought it was her "Christian
+juty," as she told Diddie; so Aunt Milly made Stella a new green
+muslin dress, and she was transferred to Dilsey.
+
+There was no railroad near the plantation, but it was only fifteen
+miles to the river, and Major Waldron would go down to New Orleans
+every winter to lay in his year's supplies, which were shipped by
+steamboats to the landing and hauled from there to the plantation. It
+was a jolly time for both white and black when the wagons came from
+the river; there were always boxes of fruits and candies and nuts,
+besides large trunks which were carried into the store-room till
+Christmas, and which everybody knew contained Christmas presents for
+"all hands." One winter evening in 1853, the children were all
+gathered at the big gate, on the lookout for the wagons. Diddie was
+perched upon one gate-post and Dumps on the other, while Tot was
+sitting on the fence, held on by Riar, lest she might fall. Dilsey and
+Chris were stationed 'way down the road to catch the first glimpse of
+the wagons. They were all getting very impatient, for they had been
+out there nearly an hour, and it was now getting so late they knew
+Mammy would not let them stay much longer.
+
+"I know de reason dey so late, Miss Diddie," said Riar, "dey got dat
+new mule Sam in de lead in one de wagins, and Unker Bill say he know
+he gwine cut up, f'um de look in he's eyes."
+
+"Uncle Bill don't know everything," answered Diddie. "There are six
+mules in the wagon, and Sam's jest only one of 'em; I reckon he can't
+cut up much by hisself; five's more'n one, ain't it?"
+
+"I do b'lieve we've been out hyear er hun-der-d hours," said Dumps,
+yawning wearily; and just then Dilsey and Chris came running towards
+the gate, waving their arms and crying,
+
+"Hyear dey come! hyear dey come!" and, sure enough, the great
+white-covered wagons came slowly down the road, and Major Waldron on
+Prince, his black horse, riding in advance.
+
+He quickened his pace when he caught sight of the children; for he was
+very fond of his little daughters, and had been away from them two
+weeks, trading in New Orleans. He rode up now to the fence, and
+lifting Tot to the saddle before him, took her in his arms and kissed
+her.
+
+Diddie and Dumps scrambled down from the gate-posts and ran along by
+the side of Prince to the house, where their mamma was waiting on the
+porch. And oh! such a joyful meeting! such hugging and kissing all
+around!
+
+Then the wagons came up, and the strong negro men began taking out the
+boxes and bundles and carrying them to the storeroom.
+
+"Hand me out that covered basket, Nelson," said Major Waldron to one
+of the men; and taking it carefully to the house, he untied the cover,
+and there lay two little white woolly puppies-- one for Diddie, and
+one for Dumps.
+
+The little girls clapped their hands and danced with delight.
+
+"Ain't they lovely?" said Dumps, squeezing hers in her arms.
+
+"Lubly," echoed Tot, burying her chubby little hands in the puppy's
+wool, while Diddie cuddled hers in her arms as tenderly as if it had
+been a baby.
+
+Mammy made a bed for the doggies in a box in one corner of the
+nursery, and the children were so excited and so happy that she could
+hardly get them to bed at all; but after a while Tot's blue eyes began
+to droop, and she fell asleep in Mammy's arms, murmuring, "De booful
+itty doggie."
+
+"De booful itty doggies," however, did not behave very well; they
+cried and howled, and Dumps insisted on taking hers up and rocking him
+to sleep.
+
+"Hit's er gittin' so late, honey," urged Mammy, "let 'um stay in de
+box, an' go ter bed now, like good chil'en."
+
+"I know I ain't, Mammy," replied Dumps. "You mus' think I ain't got no
+feelin's ter go ter bed an' leave 'im hollerin'. I'm er goin' ter rock
+'im ter sleep in my little rockin'-cheer, an' you needn't be er
+fussin' at me nuther."
+
+"I ain't er fussin' at yer, chile; I'm jes' 'visin' uv yer fur yer
+good; caze hit's yer bed-time, an' dem puppies will likely holler all
+night."
+
+"Then we will sit up all night," said Diddie, in her determined way.
+"I'm like Dumps; I'm not going to bed an' leave 'im cryin'."
+
+So Mammy drew her shawl over her head and lay back in her chair for a
+nap, while Diddie and Dumps took the little dogs in their arms and sat
+before the fire rocking; and Chris and Dilsey and Riar all squatted on
+the floor around the fender, very much interested in. the process of
+getting the puppies quiet.
+
+Presently Dumps began to sing:
+
+  "Ef'n 'ligion was er thing that money could buy,
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign;
+   De rich would live, an' de po' would die,
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign.
+   Chorus
+   O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign:
+   O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign.
+   But de Lord he 'lowed he wouldn't have it so.
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign;
+   So de rich mus' die jes' same as de po',
+   O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign."
+
+This was one of the plantation hymns with which Mammy often used to
+sing Tot to sleep, and all the children were familiar with the words
+and air; so now they all joined in the singing, and very sweet music
+it was. They had sung it through several times, and the puppies,
+finding themselves so outdone in the matter of noise, had curled up in
+the children's laps and were fast asleep, when Diddie interrupted the
+chorus to ask:
+
+"Dumps, what are you goin' ter name your doggie?"
+
+"I b'lieve I'll name 'im 'Papa,'" replied Dumps, "because he give 'im
+ter me."
+
+"'Papa,' indeed!" said Diddie, contemptuously; "that's no name for a
+dog; I'm goin' ter name mine after some great big somebody."
+
+"Lord-ee! I tell yer, Miss Diddie; name 'im Marse Samson, atter de man
+w'at Mammy wuz tellin' 'bout totin' off de gates," said Dilsey.
+
+"No yer don't, Miss Diddie; don't yer name 'im no sich," said Chris;
+"le's name im' Marse Whale, w'at swallered de man an' nuber chawed
+'im."
+
+"No, I sha'n't name him nothin' out'n the Bible," said Diddie,
+"because that's wicked, and maybe God wouldn't let him live, just for
+that; I b'lieve I'll name him Christopher Columbus, 'cause if he
+hadn't discovered America there wouldn't er been no people hyear, an'
+I wouldn't er had no father nor mother, nor dog, nor nothin'; an',
+Dumps, sposin' you name yours Pocahontas, that was er beau-ti-ful
+Injun girl, an' she throwed her arms 'roun' Mr. Smith an' never let
+the tomahawks kill 'im."
+
+"I know I ain't goin' to name mine no Injun," said Dumps, decidedly.
+
+"Yer right, Miss Dumps; now yer's er talkin'," said Riar; "I wouldn't
+name 'im no Injun; have 'im tearin' folks' hyar off, like Miss Diddie
+reads in de book. I don't want ter hab nuffin 'tall ter do wid no
+Injuns; no, sar! I don't like' dem folks."
+
+"Now, chil'en de dogs is 'sleep," said Mammy, yawning and rubbing her
+eyes; "go ter bed, won't yer?"
+
+And the little girls, after laying the puppies in the box and covering
+them with an old shawl, were soon fast asleep. But there was not much
+sleep in the nursery that night; the ungrateful little dogs howled and
+cried all night. Mammy got up three times and gave them warm milk, and
+tucked them up in the shawl; but no sooner would she put them back in
+the box than they would begin to cry and howl. And so at the
+breakfast-table next morning, when Dumps asked her papa to tell her
+something to name her puppy, Diddie gravely remarked,
+
+"I think, Dumps, we had better name 'um Cherubim an' Seraphim, for
+they continually do cry."
+
+And her papa was so amused at the idea that he said he thought so too;
+and thus the puzzling question of the names was decided, and the
+little wooly poodles were called Cherubim and Seraphim, and became
+great pets in the household.
+
+  CHAPTER II
+
+ CHRISTMAS ON THE OLD PLANTATION
+
+CHRISTMAS morning, 1853, dawned cold and rainy, and scarcely had the
+first gray streak appeared when the bolt of the nursery was quietly
+turned, and Dilsey's little black head peered in through the half-open
+door.
+
+"Chris'mus gif', chil'en!" she called out, and in a twinkling Diddie,
+Dumps and Tot were all wide awake, and climbing over the side of the
+bed. Then the three little sisters and Dilsey tip-toed all around to
+everybody's rooms, catching "Chris'mus gif';" but just as they were
+creeping down-stairs to papa and mamma two little forms jumped from
+behind the hall door, and Riar and Chris called out, "Chris'mus gif'!"
+and laughed and danced to think they had "cotch de white chil'en."
+
+As soon as everybody had been caught they all went into the
+sitting-room to see what Santa Clause had brought, and there were
+eight stockings all stuffed full! Three long, white stockings, that
+looked as if they might be mamma's, were for the little girls, and
+three coarse woolen stockings were for the little nigs; and now whom
+do you suppose the others were for? Why, for Mammy and Aunt Milly, to
+be sure! Oh, such lots of things-- candies and nuts, and raisins and
+fruits in every stocking; then there was a doll baby for each of the
+children. Diddie's was a big china doll, with kid feet and hands, and
+dressed in a red frock trimmed with black velvet. Dumps's was a wax
+baby with eyes that would open and shut; and it had on a long white
+dress, just like a sure-enough baby, and a little yellow sack, all
+worked around with white.
+
+Tot was so little, and treated her dollies so badly, that "Old Santa"
+had brought her an India-rubber baby, dressed in pink tarlatan, with a
+white sash.
+
+Dilsey, Chris, and Riar each had an alabaster baby, dressed in white
+Swiss, and they were all just alike, except that they had different
+colored sashes on.
+
+And Diddie had a book full of beautiful stories, and Dumps had a slate
+and pencil, and Tot had a "Noah's ark," and Mammy and Aunt Milly had
+red and yellow head "handkerchiefs," and Mammy had a new pair of
+"specs" and a nice warm hood, and Aunt Milly had a delaine dress; and
+'way down in the toes of their stockings they each found a five-dollar
+gold piece, for Old Santa had seen how patient and good the two dear
+old women were to the children, and so he had "thrown in" these gold
+pieces.
+
+How the little folks laughed and chatted as they pulled the things out
+of their stockings! But pretty soon Mammy made them put them all away,
+to get ready for breakfast.
+
+After breakfast the big plantation bell was rung, and the negroes all
+came up to the house. And then a great box that had been in the
+store-room ever since the wagons got back from the river, three weeks
+before, was brought in and opened, and Mrs. Waldron took from it
+dresses and hats, and bonnets and coats, and vests and all sorts of
+things, until every pair of black hands had received a present, and
+every pair of thick lips exclaimed,
+
+"Thankee, mistis! thankee, honey; an' God bless yer!"
+
+And then Chris, who had been looking anxiously every moment or two
+towards the quarters, cried out,
+
+"Yon' dey is! I see um! Yon' dey come!"
+
+And down the long avenue appeared the funniest sort of a procession.
+First came Aunt Nancy, the "tender," with her head handkerchief tied
+in a sharp point that stuck straight up from her head; and behind her,
+two and two, came the little quarter negroes, dressed in their
+brightest and newest clothes, All were there-- from the boys and girls
+of fourteen down to the little wee toddlers of two or three, and some
+even younger than that; for in the arms of several of the larger girls
+were little bits of black babies, looking all around in their queer
+kind of way, and wondering what all this was about.
+
+The procession drew up in front of the house, and Diddie, Dumps and
+Tot went from one end of it to the other distributing candies and
+apples, and oranges and toys; and how the bright faces did light up
+with joy as the little darkies laughed and chuckled, and I dare say
+would have jumped up and clapped their hands but for Aunt Nancy, who
+was keeping a sharp eye upon them, and who would say, as every present
+was delivered,
+
+"Min' yer manners, now!"
+
+At which the little nigs would make a comical little "bob-down"
+courtesy and say, "Thankee, marm."
+
+When the presents were all delivered, Major Waldron told the negroes
+that their mistress and himself were going to the quarters to take
+presents to the old negroes and the sick, who could not walk to the
+house, and after that he would have service in the chapel, and that he
+hoped as many as could would attend.
+
+Then the crowd dispersed, and the children's mamma filled a basket
+with "good things," and presents for old Aunt Sally, who was almost
+blind; and poor Jane, who had been sick a long time; and Daddy Jake,
+the oldest negro on the place, who never ventured out in bad weather
+for fear of the "rheumatiz;" and then, accompanied by her husband and
+children, she carried it to the quarters to wish the old negroes a
+happy Christmas.
+
+The quarters presented a scene of the greatest excitement. Men and
+women were bustling about, in and out of the cabins, and the young
+folks were busily engaged cleaning up the big barn and dressing it
+with boughs of holly and cedar; for you see Aunt Sukey's Jim was going
+to be married that very night, and the event had been talked of for
+weeks, for he was a great favorite on the place.
+
+He was a tall, handsome black fellow, with white teeth and bright
+eyes, and he could play the fiddle and pick the banjo, and knock the
+bones and cut the pigeon-wing, and, besides all that, he was the best
+hoe-hand, and could pick more cotton than any other negro on the
+plantation. He had amused himself by courting and flirting with all of
+the negro girls; but at last he had been caught himself by pretty
+Candace, one of the housemaids, and a merry dance she had led him.
+
+She had kept poor Jim six long months on the rack. First she'd say
+she'd marry him, and then she'd say she wouldn't (not that she ever
+really meant that she wouldn't), for she just wanted to torment him;
+and she succeeded so well that Jim became utterly wretched, and went
+to his master to know "ef'n he couldn't make dat yaller gal 'have
+herse'f."
+
+But his master assured him it was a matter that he had nothing on
+earth to do with, and even told Jim that it was but fair that he, who
+had enjoyed flirting so long, should now be flirted with.
+
+However, one evening his mistress came upon the poor fellow sitting on
+the creek bank looking very disconsolate, and overheard him talking to
+himself,
+
+"Yes, sar!" he was saying, as if arguing with somebody. "Yes, sar, by
+rights dat nigger gal oughter be beat mos' ter deff, she clean bodder
+de life out'n me, an' marster, he jes' oughter kill dat nigger. I
+dunno w'at makes me kyar so much er bout'n her no way; dar's plenty er
+likelier gals'n her, an' I jes' b'lieve dat's er trick nigger; anyhow
+she's tricked me, sho's yer born; an' ef'n I didn't b'long ter nobody,
+I'd jump right inter dis creek an' drown myse'f. But I ain't got no
+right ter be killin' up marster's niggers dat way; I'm wuff er
+thousan' dollars, an' marster ain't got no thousan' dollars ter was'e
+in dis creek, long er dat lazy, shif'less, good-fur-nuffin' yaller
+nigger."
+
+The poor fellow's dejected countenance and evident distress enlisted
+the sympathy of his mistress, and thinking that any negro who took
+such good care of his master's property would make a good husband, she
+sought an interview with Candace, and so pleaded with her in behalf of
+poor Jim that the dusky coquette relented, and went down herself to
+Aunt Sukey's cabin to tell her lover that she did love him all along,
+and was "jis' er projeckin' wid 'im," and that she would surely marry
+him Christmas-night.
+
+Their master had had a new cabin built for them, and their mistress
+had furnished it neatly for the young folks to begin housekeeping, and
+in mamma's wardrobe was a white dress and a veil and wreath that were
+to be the bride's Christmas gifts. They were to be married in the
+parlor at the house, and dance afterwards in the barn, and the wedding
+supper was to be set in the laundry.
+
+So you see it was a busy day, with so much of cake-baking and icing
+and trimming to be done; and then the girls had to see about their
+dresses for the evening, and the young men had their shoes to black,
+and their best clothes to brush, and their hair to unwrap; but
+notwithstanding all this, when Major Waldron and his family entered
+the chapel they found a large congregation assembled; indeed, all were
+there except the sick; and master and slaves, the white children and
+black, united their hearts and voices to
+
+  "Laurel and magnify His holy name,"
+
+and to return thanks to God for his great Christmas gift of a Saviour
+to the world.
+
+As they were leaving the chapel after service, Dumps drew close to her
+mother and whispered,
+
+"Mamma, bein' as this is Chris'mas an' it's rainin', can't we have
+some of the little quarter niggers to go to the house and play Injuns
+with us?"
+
+Mamma was about to refuse, for the little girls were not allowed to
+play with the quarter children; but Dumps looked very wistful, and,
+besides, Mammy would be with them in the nursery, so she consented,
+and each of the children were told that they might select one of the
+little negroes to play with them.
+
+Diddie took a little mulatto girl named Agnes. Dumps had so many
+favorites that it was hard for her to decide; but finally she selected
+Frances, a lively little darky, who could dance and pat and sing and
+shout, and do lots of funny things.
+
+Tot took Polly, a big girl of fourteen, who could, and sometimes did,
+take the little one on her back and trot around with her. She lifted
+her now to her shoulders, and, throwing her head up and snorting like
+a horse, started off in a canter to the house; while Diddie and Dumps,
+and Chris and Riar, and Agnes and Frances followed on behind, all
+barking like dogs, and making believe that Tot was going hunting and
+they were the hounds.
+
+"See, Mammy, here's Agnes and Polly and Frances," said Diddie, as they
+entered the nursery; "mamma let us have them, and they are to stay
+here a long time and play Injuns with us."
+
+"Now, Miss Diddie, honey," said Mammy, "Injuns is sich a sackremenchus
+play, an' makes so much litter and fuss; git yer dolls, an' play like
+er little lady."
+
+"No, no, no," interrupted Dumps; "we're goin' ter play Injuns! We're
+goin' ter make out we're travellin' in the big rockin'-cheer, goin'
+ter New Orleans, an' the little niggers is got ter be Injuns, hid all
+behin' the trunks an' beds an' door; an' after, we rock an' rock er
+lo-o-ong time, then we're goin' ter make out it's night, an' stretch
+mamma's big shawl over two cheers an' make er tent, and be cookin'
+supper in our little pots an' kittles, an' the little niggers is got
+ter holler, 'Who-ee, who-eee,' an' jump out on us, an' cut off our
+heads with er billycrow."
+
+"How silly you do talk, Dumps!" said Diddie; "there ain't any Injuns
+between here and New Orleans; we've got ter be goin' to California, a
+far ways f'um here. An' I don't b'lieve there's nothin' in this world
+named er 'billycrow;' it's er tommyhawk you're thinkin' about: an'
+Injuns don't cut off people's heads; it was Henry the Eighth. Injuns
+jes' cut off the hair and call it sculpin', don't they, Mammy?"
+
+"Lor', chile," replied Mammy, "I dunno, honey; I allers hyeard dat
+Injuns wuz monstrous onstreperous, an' I wouldn't play no sich er
+game."
+
+But "Injuns, Injuns, Injuns!" persisted all the little folks, and
+Mammy had to yield.
+
+The big chair was put in the middle of the room, and the little girls
+got in. Chris sat up on the arms to be the driver, and they started
+off for California. After travelling some time night set in, and the
+emigrants got out, and pitched a tent and made preparations for
+cooking supper; little bits of paper were torn up and put into the
+miniature pots and kettles, and the children were busy stirring them
+round with a stick for a spoon, when the terrible war-whoop rang in
+their ears, and from under the bed and behind the furniture jumped out
+the five little negroes.
+
+The travellers ran in every direction, and the Injuns after them.
+Diddie hid in the wardrobe, and Mammy covered Tot up in the middle of
+the bed; Chris turned the chip-box over and tried to get under it, but
+the fierce savages dragged her out, and she was soon tied hand and
+foot; Dumps jumped into the clothes-basket, and Aunt Milly threw a
+blanket over her, but Frances had such keen little eyes that she soon
+spied her and captured her at once.
+
+Then a wild yell was sounded, and Polly and Dilsey pounced upon Tot,
+who had become tired of lying still, and was wriggling about so that
+she had been discovered; and now all the travellers were captured
+except Diddie. The injuns looked everywhere for her in vain.
+
+"She mus' er gone up fru de chimbly, like Marse Santion Claws," said
+Agnes; and Diddie thought that was so funny that she giggled outright,
+and in a moment the wardrobe was opened and she was also taken
+prisoner. Then the four little captives were laid on their backs, and
+Polly scalped them with a clothes-brush for a tomahawk.
+
+As soon as they were all scalped they started over again, and kept up
+the fun until the big plantation bell sounded, and then the Injuns
+deserted in a body and ran off pell-mell to the quarters; for that
+bell was for the Christmas dinner, and they wouldn't miss that for all
+the scalps that ever were taken.
+
+There were three long tables, supplied with good, well-cooked food,
+followed by a nice dessert of pudding and cake, and the darkies, one
+and all, did full justice to it.
+
+Up at the house was a grand dinner, with turkey, mince-pie, and
+plum-pudding, of course.
+
+When that was through with, mamma told the little girls that the
+little quarter negroes were to have a candy stew, and that Mammy might
+take them to witness the pulling. This was a great treat, for there
+was nothing the children enjoyed so much as going to the quarters to
+see the little negroes play.
+
+The candy stew had been suggested by Aunt Nancy as a fine device for
+getting rid of the little darkies for the night. They were to have the
+frolic only on condition that they would go to bed and not insist on
+being at the wedding. This they readily agreed to; for they feared
+they would not be allowed to sit up anyway, and they thought best to
+make sure of the candy-pulling.
+
+When the little girls reached Aunt Nancy's cabin, two big kettles of
+molasses were on the fire, and, to judge by the sputtering and
+simmering, the candy was getting on famously. Uncle Sambo had brought
+his fiddle in, and some of the children were patting and singing and
+dancing, while others were shelling goobers and picking out
+scaly-barks to put in the candy; and when the pulling began, if you
+could have heard the laughing and joking you would have thought there
+was no fun like a candy stew.
+
+As a special favor, the little girls were allowed to stay up and see
+Candace married; and very nice she looked when her mistress had
+finished dressing her: her white Swiss was fresh and new, and the
+wreath and veil were very becoming, and she made quite a pretty bride;
+at least Jim thought so, and that was enough for her.
+
+Jim was dressed in a new pepper-and-salt suit, his Christmas present
+from his master, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen all looked very
+fine. Mamma arranged the bridal party in the back parlor, and the
+folding-doors were thrown open. Both rooms and the large hall were
+full of negroes. The ceremony was performed by old Uncle Daniel, the
+negro preacher on the place, and the children's father gave the bride
+away.
+
+After the marriage, the darkies adjourned to the barn to dance. Diddie
+and Dumps begged to be allowed to go and look at them "just a little
+while," but it was their bedtime, and Mammy marched hem off to the
+nursery.
+
+About twelve o'clock supper was announced, and old and young repaired
+to the laundry. The room was festooned with wreaths of holly and
+cedar, and very bright and pretty and tempting the table looked,
+spread out with meats and breads, and pickles and preserves, and
+home-made wine, and cakes of all sorts and sizes, iced and plain;
+large bowls of custard and jelly; and candies, and fruits and nuts.
+
+In the centre of the table was a pyramid, beginning with a large cake
+at the bottom and ending with a "snowball" on top.
+
+At the head of the table was the bride-cake, containing the "ring" and
+the "dime;" it was handsomely iced, and had a candy Cupid perched over
+it, on a holly bough which was stuck in a hole in the middle of the
+cake. It was to be cut after a while by each of the bridesmaids and
+groomsmen in turns; and whoever should cut the slice containing the
+ring would be the next one to get married; but whoever should get the
+dime was to be an old maid or an old bachelor.
+
+The supper was enjoyed hugely, particularly a big bowl of eggnog,
+which so enlivened them all that the dancing was entered into with
+renewed vigor, and kept up till the gray tints in the east warned them
+that another day had dawned, and that Christmas was over.
+
+But you may be sure that in all Christendom it had been welcomed in
+and ushered out by no merrier, lighter hearts than those of the happy,
+contented folks on the old plantation.
+
+  CHAPTER III
+
+ MAMMY'S STORY
+
+ONE cold, rainy night a little group were assembled around a crackling
+wood fire in the nursery; Mammy was seated in a low chair, with Tot in
+her arms; Dumps was rocking her doll back and forth, and Diddie was
+sitting at the table reading; Aunt Milly was knitting, and the three
+little darkies were nodding by the fire.
+
+"Mammy," said Dumps, "s'posin you tell us a tale." Tot warmly seconded
+the motion, and Mammy, who was never more delighted than when
+astonishing the children with her wonderful stories, at once assumed a
+meditative air. "Lem me see," said the old woman, scratching her head;
+"I reckon I'll tell yer 'bout de wushin'-stone, ain't neber told yer
+dat yit. I know yer've maybe hearn on it, leastways Milly has; but den
+she mayn't have hearn de straight on it, fur 'taint eb'y nigger knows
+it. Yer see, Milly, my mammy was er 'riginal Guinea nigger, an' she
+knowed 'bout de wushin'-stone herse'f, an' she told me one Wednesday
+night on de full er de moon, an' w'at I'm gwine ter tell yer is de
+truff."
+
+Having thus authenticated her story beyond a doubt, Mammy hugged Tot a
+little closer and began:
+
+"Once 'pon er time dar wuz a beautiful gyarden wid all kind er nice
+blossoms, an' trees, an' brooks, an' things, whar all de little
+chil'en usen ter go and play, an' in dis gyarden de grass wuz allers
+green, de blossoms allers bright, and de streams allers clar, caze hit
+b'longed to er little Fraid, named Cheery."
+
+"A 'little Fraid,'" interrupted Diddie, contemptuously. "Why, Mammy,
+there's no such a thing as a 'Fraid.'"
+
+"Lord, Miss Diddie, 'deed dey is," said Dilsey, with her round eyes
+stretched to their utmost; "I done seed 'em myse'f, an' our Clubfoot
+Bill he was er gwine 'long one time--"
+
+"Look er hyear, yer kinky-head nigger, whar's yer manners?" asked
+Mammy, "'ruptin' uv eld'ly pussons. I'm de one w'at's 'struck'n dese
+chil'en, done struck dey mother fuss; I'll tell 'em w'at's becomin'
+fur 'em ter know; I don't want 'em ter hyear nuf'n 'bout sich low
+cornfiel' niggers ez Club-foot Bill.
+
+"Yes, Miss Diddie, honey," said Mammy, resuming her story, "dar sholy
+is Fraids; Mammy ain't gwine tell yer nuf'n', honey, w'at she dun know
+fur er fack; so as I wuz er sayin', dis little Fraid wuz name Cheery,
+an' she'd go all 'roun' eb'y mornin' an' tech up de grass an' blossoms
+an' keep 'em fresh, fur she loved ter see chil'en happy, an' w'en dey
+rolled ober on de grass, an' strung de blossoms, an' waded up an' down
+de streams, an' peeped roun' de trees, Cheery'd clap 'er han's an'
+laugh, an' dance roun' an' roun'; an' sometimes dar'd be little po'
+white chil'en, an' little misfortnit niggers would go dar; an' w'en
+she'd see de bright look in dey tired eyes, she'd fix things
+prettier'n eber.
+
+"Now dar wuz er nudder little Fraid name Dreary; an' she wuz sad an'
+gloomy, an' neber dance, nor play, nor nuf'n; but would jes go off
+poutin', like to herse'f. Well, one day she seed er big flat stone
+under a tree. She said ter herse'f, 'I ain't gwine ter be like dat
+foolish Cheery, dancin' an' laughin' foreber, caze she thinks such
+things ez flowers an' grass kin make folks happy; but I'm gwine ter do
+er rael good ter eb'ybody," so she laid er spell on de stone, so dat
+w'en anybody sot on de stone an' wush anything dey'd hab jes w'at dey
+wush fur; an' so as ter let er heap er folks wush at once, she made it
+so dat eb'y wush would make de stone twice ez big ez 'twuz befo'.
+
+"Po' little Cheery was mighty troubled in her min' w'en she foun' out
+'bout'n hit, an' she beg Dreary ter tuck de spell off; but no, she
+wouldn't do it. She 'lowed, do, ef anybody should eber wush anything
+fur anybody else, dat den de stone might shrink up ergin; fur who, she
+sez ter herse'f, is gwine ter wush fur things fur tudder folks? An'
+she tol' de little birds dat stay in de tree de stone wuz under, when
+anybody sot on de stone dey mus' sing, 'I wush I had,' an' 'I wush I
+wuz,' so as ter 'min' 'em 'bout'n de wushin'-stone. Well, 'twan't long
+fo' de gyarden wuz plum crowded wid folks come ter wush on de stone,
+an' hit wuz er growin' bigger an' bigger all de time, an' mashin' de
+blossoms an' grass; an' dar wan't no mo' merry chil'en playin' 'mong
+de trees an' wadin' in de streams; no soun's ob laughin' and joy in de
+gyarden; eb'ybody wuz er quarlin, 'bout'n who should hab de nex'
+place, or wuz tryin' ter study up what dey'd wush fur; an' Cheery wuz
+jes ez mizer'bul as er free nigger, 'bout her gyarden.
+
+"De folks would set on de stone, while de little birds would sing, 'I
+wush I had," an' dey'd wush dey had money, an' fren's, an' sense, an'
+happiness, an' 'ligion; an' 'twould all come true jes like dey wush
+fur. Den de little birds would sing, 'I wush I wuz," an' dey'd wush
+dey wuz lubly, an' good, an' gran'; un' 'twould all come ter pass jes
+so.
+
+"But all dat time nobody neber wush nobody else was rich, an' good,
+an' lubly, an' happy; fur don't yer see de birds neber sung, 'I wush
+you wuz,' 'I wush dey had," but all de time 'I wush I wuz,' 'I wush I
+had.' At last, one day dar come inter de gyarden er po' little cripple
+gal, who lived 'way off in er ole tumble-down house. She wuz er little
+po' white chile, an' she didn't hab no farder nor mudder, nor niggers
+ter do fur her, an' she had to do all her own wuck herse'f."
+
+"Bress de Lord!" ejaculated Aunt Milly, who was becoming very much
+interested in the story, while tears gathered in Dump's blue eyes; and
+even Diddie was seen to wink a little at the forlorn condition of "de
+po' white chile."
+
+"Yes, indeed," continued Mammy, "she done all her own wuk herse'f, an'
+nobody ter say er blessed word ter her, nor he'p her a bit; an' she
+neber eben hyeard ob de wushin'-stone, but had jes come out fur er
+little while ter enjoy de birds, an' de fresh air, an' flowers, same
+as de quality folks; fur she was mos' all de time sick, an, dis wuz
+jes de same as Christmus ter her. She hobbled erlong on her crutches,
+an' atter while she got ter de stone; an' hit so happened dar wan't
+nobody dar, so she sot down ter res'. Well, mun, she hadn't mo'n totch
+de stone when de little birds began, 'I wush I had,' 'I wush I wuz.'
+
+"'Oh, what er sweet, pretty place!' de little gal said; 'an' what nice
+little birds! I wush dat po' old sick man what libs next ter us could
+come out here and see it all.'
+
+"'I wush I had,' 'I wush I wuz,' sung de little birds. 'I wush all de
+po' chil'en could come an' spen' de day here,' said de little gal;
+'what er nice time dey would hab!'
+
+"'I wush I wuz,' 'I wush I had,' sung de birds in er flutter, hoppin'
+all 'bout 'mong de branches.
+
+"'An' all de lame people, an' sick people, an' ole people,' said de
+little gal, 'I wush dey could all git well, an' strong, an' lib in er
+beautiful place jes like dis, an' all be happy.'
+
+"Oh, de little birds! what er bustle dey wuz in to be sho'! Dey sot
+upon de bery topes' branches, an' dey sung like dey'd split der
+troats,
+
+"'I wush I had,' 'I wush I wuz.'
+
+"But de little gal neber min' 'em. She was rested, an' hobbled on all
+by herse'f; but now, sence she done wush fur blessin' fur tudder
+folks, de spell was loosenin' an' de stone all drawerd up ter a little
+bit er stone, den sunk away in de groun' clar out o' sight. An' dat
+wuz de last ob de wushin'-stone."
+
+"Dar now!" exclaimed Aunt Milly.
+
+"De truff, sho'! jes like I ben tellin' yer," said Mammy.
+
+"But, Mammy, what about the little girl? did she ever get well an'
+strong, an' not be lame any more?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Well, honey, yer see de Lord, he fixes all dat. He sont fur her one
+night, an' she jes smiled, bright an' happy like, an' laid right back
+in de angel's arms; an' he tuck her right along up thu de hebenly
+gates, an' soon as eber he sot her down, an' her foot totch dem golden
+streets, de lameness, an' sickness, an' po'ness all come right; an'
+her fader, an' her mudder, an' her niggers wuz all dar, an' she wuz
+well an' strong, an' good an' happy. Jes like she wush fur de po'
+folks, an' de sick folks, de Lord he fixed it jes dat way fur her. He
+fixed all dat hisse'f."
+
+  CHAPTER IV
+
+ OLD BILLY
+
+THE gin-house on the plantation was some distance from the house; and
+in an opposite direction from the quarters. It was out in an open
+field, but a narrow strip of woods lay between the field and the
+house, so the gin-house was completely hidden.
+
+Just back of the gin-house was a pile of lumber that Major Waldron had
+had hauled in build a new pick-room, and which was piled so as to form
+little squares, large enough to hold three of the children at once.
+During the last ginning season they had gone down once with Mammy to
+"ride on the gin," but had soon abandoned that amusement to play
+housekeeping on the lumber, and have the little squares for rooms.
+They had often since thought of that evening, and had repeatedly
+begged Mammy to let them go down to the lumber pile; but she was
+afraid they would tear their clothes, or hurt themselves in some way,
+and would never consent.
+
+So one day in the early spring, when Mammy and Aunt Milly were having
+a great cleaning-up in the nursery, and the children had been sent
+into the yard to play, Chris suggested that they should all slip off,
+and go and play on the lumber pile.
+
+"Oh, yes," said Dumps, "that will be the very thing, an' Mammy won't
+never know it, 'cause we'll be sho' ter come back befo' snack-time."
+
+"But something might happen to us, you know," said Diddie, "like the
+boy in my blue book, who went off fishin' when his mother told him not
+to, an' the boat upsetted and drownded him."
+
+"Tain't no boat there," urged Dumps; "tain't no water even, an' I
+don't b'lieve we'd be drownded; an' tain't no bears roun' this place
+like them that eat up the bad little Chil'en in the Bible; and tain't
+no Injuns in this country, an' tain't no snakes nor lizards till
+summer-time, an' all the cows is out in the pasture; an' tain't no
+ghos'es in the daytime, an' I don't b'lieve there's nothin' ter happen
+to us; an' ef there wuz, I reckon God kin take care of us, can't he?"
+
+"He won't do it, though, ef we don't mind our mother," replied Diddie.
+
+"Mammy ain't none of our mother, and tain't none of her business not
+to be lettin' us play on the lumber, neither. Please come, Diddie,
+we'll have such a fun, an' nothin' can't hurt us. If you'll come,
+we'll let you keep the hotel, an' me an' Tot 'll be the boarders."
+
+The idea of keeping the hotel was too much for Diddie's scruples, and
+she readily agreed to the plan. Dilsey was then despatched to the
+nursery to bring the dolls, and Chris ran off to the wood-pile to get
+the wheelbarrow, which was to be the omnibus for carrying passengers
+to and from the hotel.
+
+These details being satisfactorily arranged, the next thing was to
+slip off from Cherubim and Seraphim, for they followed the little
+girls everywhere, and they would be too much trouble on this occasion,
+since they couldn't climb up on the pile themselves, and would whine
+piteously if the children left them.
+
+The plan finally decided upon was this: Diddie was to coax them to the
+kitchen to get some meat, while the other children were to go as fast
+as they could down the avenue and wait for her where the road turned,
+and she was to slip off while the puppies were eating, and join them.
+
+They had only waited a few minutes when Diddie came running down the
+road, and behind her (unknown to her) came Old Billy.
+
+"Oh, what made you bring him?" asked Dumps, as Diddie came up.
+
+"I didn't know he was comin'," replied Diddie, "but he won't hurt:
+he'll just eat grass all about, and we needn't notice him."
+
+"Yes, he will hurt," said Dumps; "he behaves jus' dreadful, an' I
+don't want ter go, neither, ef he's got ter be er comin'."
+
+"Well-- I know he shall come," retorted Diddie. "You jes don't like
+him 'cause he's gettin' old. I'd be ashamed to turn against my friends
+like that. When he was little and white, you always wanted to be er
+playin' with him; an' now, jes 'cause he ain't pretty, you don't want
+him to come anywhere, nor have no fun nor nothin'; yes-- he shall
+come; an' ef that's the way you're goin' to do, I'm goin' right back
+to the house, an' tell Mammy you've all slipped off, an' she'll come
+right after you, an' then you won't get to play on the lumber."
+
+Diddie having taken this decided stand, there was nothing for it but
+to let Old Billy be of the party; and peace being thus restored, the
+children continued their way, and were soon on the lumber-pile. Diddie
+at once opened her hotel. Chris was the chambermaid, Riar was the
+waiter, and Dilsey was the man to take the omnibus down for the
+passengers. Dumps and Tot, who were to be the boarders, withdrew to
+the gin-house steps, which was to be the depot, to await the arrival
+of the omnibus.
+
+"I want ter go to the hotel," said Dumps, as Dilsey came up rolling
+the wheelbarrow-- "me an' my three little chil'en."
+
+"Yes, marm, jes git in," said Dilsey, and Dumps, with her wax baby and
+a rag doll for her little daughters, and a large cotton-stalk for her
+little boy, took a seat in the omnibus. Dilsey wheeled her up to the
+hotel, and Diddie met her at the door.
+
+"What is your name, madam?" she inquired.
+
+"My name is Mrs. Dumps," replied the guest, "an' this is my little
+boy, an' these is my little girls."
+
+"Oh, Dumps, you play so cur'us," said Diddie; "who ever heard of
+anybody bein' named Mrs. Dumps? there ain't no name like that."
+
+"Well, I don't know nothin' else," said Dumps; "I couldn't think of
+nothin'."
+
+"Sposin' you be named Mrs. Washington, after General Washington?" said
+Diddie, who was now studying a child's history of America, and was
+very much interested in it.
+
+"All right," said Dumps; and Mrs. Washington, with her son and
+daughters, was assigned apartments, and Chris was sent up with
+refreshments, composed of pieces of old cotton-bolls and gray moss,
+served on bits of broken china.
+
+The omnibus now returned with Tot and her family, consisting of an
+India-rubber baby with a very cracked face, and a rag body that had
+once sported a china head, and now had no head of any kind; but it was
+nicely dressed, and there were red shoes on the feet; and it answered
+Tot's purpose very well.
+
+"Dese my 'itty dirls," said Tot, as Diddie received her, "an' I tome
+in de bumberbuss."
+
+"What is your name?" asked Diddie.
+
+"I name-- I name-- I name-- Miss Gin-house," said Tot, who had
+evidently never thought of a name, and had suddenly decided upon
+gin-house, as her eye fell upon that object.
+
+"No, no, Tot, that's a thing; that ain't no name for folks," said
+Diddie. "Let's play you're Mrs. Bunker Hill; that's a nice name."
+
+"Yes, I name Miss Unker Bill," said the gentle little girl, who rarely
+objected to playing just as the others wished. Miss "Unker Bill" was
+shown to her room; and now Riar came out, shaking her hand up and
+down, and saying, "Ting-er-ling-- ting-er-ling-- ting-er-ling!" That
+was the dinner-bell, and they all assembled around a table that Riar
+had improvised out of a piece of plank supported on two bricks, and
+which was temptingly set out with mud pies and cakes and green leaves,
+and just such delicacies as Riar and Diddie could pick up.
+
+As soon as Mrs. Washington laid eyes on the mud cakes and pies, she
+exclaimed,
+
+"Oh, Diddie, I'm er goin' ter be the cook, an' make the pies an'
+things."
+
+"I doin' ter be de took an' make de itty mud takes," said Miss Unker
+Bill, and the table at once became a scene of confusion.
+
+"No, Dumps," said Diddie, "somebody's got to be stoppin' at the hotel,
+an' I think the niggers ought to be the cooks."
+
+"But I want ter make the mud cakes," persisted Dumps, an' Tot can be
+the folks at the hotel-- she and the doll-babies."
+
+"No, I doin' ter make de mud takes, too," said Tot, and the hotel
+seemed in imminent danger of being closed for want of custom, when a
+happy thought struck Dilsey.
+
+"Lor-dy, chil'en! I tell yer: le's play Ole Billy is er gemman what
+writ ter Miss Diddie in er letter dat he was er comin' ter de hotel,
+an' ter git ready fur 'im gins he come."
+
+"Yes," said Diddie, and lets play Dumps an' Tot was two mo' niggers I
+had ter bring up from the quarters to help cook; an' we'll make out
+Ole Billy is some great general or somethin', an' we'll have ter make
+lots of cakes an' puddin's for 'im. Oh, I know; we'll play he's Lord
+Burgoyne."
+
+All of the little folks were pleased at that idea, and Diddie
+immediately began to issue her orders.
+
+"You, Dumps, an' Tot an' Dilsey, an' all of yer-- I've got er letter
+from Lord Burgoyne, an' he'll be here to-morrow, an' I want you all to
+go right into the kitchen an' make pies an' cakes." And so the whole
+party adjourned to a little ditch where mud and water were plentiful
+(and which on that account had been selected as the kitchen), and
+began at once to prepare an elegant dinner.
+
+Dear me! how busy the little housekeepers were! and such beautiful
+pies they made, and lovely cakes all iced with white sand, and bits of
+grass laid around the edges for trimming! and all the time laughing
+and chatting as gayly as could be.
+
+"Ain't we havin' fun?" said Dumps, who, regardless of her nice
+clothes, was down on her knees in the ditch, with her sleeves rolled
+up, and her fat little arms muddy to the elbows; "an' ain't you glad
+we slipped off, Diddie? I tol' yer there wan't nothin' goin' to hurt
+us."
+
+"And ain't you glad we let Billy come?" said Diddie; "we wouldn't er
+had nobody to be Lord Burgoyne."
+
+"Yes," replied Dumps; "an' he ain't behaved bad at all; he ain't
+butted nobody, an' he ain't runned after nobody to-day."
+
+"'Ook at de take," interrupted Tot, holding up a mudball that she had
+moulded with her own little hands, and which she regarded with great
+pride,
+
+And now, the plank being as full as it would hold, they all returned
+to the hotel to arrange the table. But after the table was set the
+excitement was all over, for there was nobody to be the guest.
+
+"Ef Ole Billy wan't so mean," said Chris, "we could fotch 'im hyear in
+de omnibus. I wush we'd a let Chubbum an' Suppum come; dey'd been Lord
+Bugon."
+
+"I b'lieve Billy would let us haul 'im," said Diddie, who was always
+ready to take up for her pet; "he's rael gentle now, an' he's quit
+buttin'; the only thing is, he's so big we couldn't get 'im in the
+wheelbarrer."
+
+"Me 'n Chris kin put 'im in," said Dilsey. "We kin lif' 'im, ef dat's
+all;" and accordingly the omnibus was dispatched for Lord Burgoyne,
+who was quietly nibbling grass on the ditch bank at some little
+distance from the hotel.
+
+He raised his head as the children approached, and regarded them
+attentively. "Billy! Billy! po' Ole Billy!" soothingly murmured
+Diddie, who had accompanied Dilsey and Chris with the omnibus, as she
+had more influence over Old Billy than anybody else. He came now at
+once to her side, and rubbed his head gently against her; and while
+she caressed him, Dilsey on one side and Chris on the other lifted him
+up to put him on the wheelbarrow.
+
+And now the scene changed. Lord Burgoyne, all unmindful of love or
+gratitude, and with an eye single to avenging this insult to his
+dignity, struggled from the arms of his captors, and, planting his
+head full in Diddie's chest, turned her a somersault in the mud. Then,
+lowering his head and rushing at Chris, he butted her with such force
+that over she went headforemost into the ditch! and now, spying
+Dilsey, who was running with all her might to gain the lumber-pile, he
+took after her, and catching up with her just as she reached the
+gin-house, placed his head in the middle of her back, and sent her
+sprawling on her face. Diddie and Chris had by this time regained
+their feet, both of them very muddy, and Chris with her face all
+scratched from the roots and briers in the ditch. Seeing Old Billy
+occupied with Dilsey, they started in a run for the lumber; but the
+wily old sheep was on the look-out, and, taking after them full tilt,
+he soon landed them flat on the ground. And now Dilsey had scrambled
+up, and was wiping the dirt from her eyes, preparatory to making a
+fresh start. Billy, however, seemed to have made up his mind that
+nobody had a right to stand up except himself, and, before the poor
+little darky could get out of his way, once more he had butted her
+down.
+
+Diddie and Chris were more fortunate this time; they were nearer the
+lumber than Dilsey, and, not losing a minute, they set out for the
+pile as soon as Old Billy's back was turned, and made such good time
+that they both reached it, and Chris had climbed to the top before he
+saw them; Diddie, however, was only half-way up, so he made a run at
+her, and butted her feet from under her, and threw her back to the
+ground. This time he hurt her very much, for her head struck against
+the lumber, and it cut a gash in her forehead and made the blood come.
+This alarmed Dumps and Tot, and they both began to cry, though they,
+with Riar, were safely ensconced on top of the lumber, out of all
+danger. Diddie, too, was crying bitterly; and as soon as Billy ran
+back to butt at Dilsey, Chris and Riar caught hold of her hands and
+drew her up on the pile.
+
+Poor little Dilsey was now in a very sad predicament. Billy, seeing
+that the other children were out of his reach, devoted his entire time
+and attention to her, and her only safety was in lying flat on the
+ground. If she so much as lifted her head to reconnoitre, he would
+plant a full blow upon it.
+
+The children were at their wit's end. It was long past their
+dinner-time, and they were getting hungry; their clothes were all
+muddy, and Diddie's dress almost torn off of her; the blood was
+trickling down from the gash in her forehead, and Chris was all
+scratched and dirty, and her eyes smarted from the sand in them. So it
+was a disconsolate little group that sat huddled together on top of
+the lumber, while Old Billy stood guard over Dilsey, but with one eye
+on the pile, ready to make a dash at anybody who should be foolish
+enough to venture down.
+
+"I tol' yer not to let 'im come," sobbed Dumps, "an' now I spec' we'll
+hafter stay here all night, an' not have no supper nor nothin'."
+
+"I didn't let 'im come," replied Diddie; "he come himself, an' ef you
+hadn't made us run away fum Mammy, we wouldn't er happened to all this
+trouble."
+
+"I never made yer," retorted Dumps, "you come jes ez much ez anybody;
+an' ef it hadn't er been fur you, Ole Billy would er stayed at home.
+You're all time pettin' 'im an' feedin' 'im-- hateful old thing-- tell
+he thinks he's got ter go ev'rywhere we go. You ought ter be 'shamed
+er yourse'f. Ef I was you, I'd think myse'f too good ter be always er
+'soshatin' with sheeps."
+
+"You're mighty fond of 'im sometimes," said Diddie, "an' you was
+mighty glad he was here jes now, to be Lord Burgoyne: he's jes doin'
+this fur fun; an' ef Chris was my nigger, I'd make her git down an'
+drive 'im away."
+
+Chris belonged to Dumps, and Mammy had taught the children never to
+give orders to each other's maids, unless with full permission of the
+owner.
+
+"I ain't gwine hab nuf'n ter do wid 'im," said Chris.
+
+"Yes you are, Chris," replied Dumps, who had eagerly caught at
+Diddie's suggestion of having him driven away. "Get down this minute,
+an' drive 'im off; ef yer don't, I'll tell Mammy you wouldn't min'
+me."
+
+"Mammy 'll hatter whup me, den," said Chris (for Mammy always punished
+the little negroes for disobedience to their mistresses); "she'll
+hatter whup me, caze I ain't gwine ter hab nuf'n tall ter do wid dat
+sheep; I ain't gwine ter meddle long 'im, hab 'im buttin' me in de
+ditch."
+
+"Riar, you go," said Diddie; "he ain't butted you yet."
+
+"He ain't gwine ter, nuther," said Riar, "caze I gwine ter stay up
+hyear long o' Miss Tot, like Mammy tell me. I 'longs to her, an' I
+gwine stay wid 'er myse'f, an' nuss 'er jes like Mammy say."
+
+It was now almost dark, and Old Billy showed no signs of weariness;
+his vigilance was unabated, and the children were very miserable, when
+they heard the welcome sound of Mammy's voice calling "Chil'en!
+O-o-o-o, chil'en!"
+
+"Ma-a-a-m!" answered all of the little folks at once.
+
+"Whar is yer?" called Mammy,
+
+"On top the lumber-pile," answered the children; and soon Mammy
+appeared coming through the woods.
+
+She had missed the children at snack-time, and had been down to the
+quarters, and, in fact, all over the place, hunting for them. The
+children were delighted to see her now, and so, indeed, seemed Old
+Billy, for, quitting his position at Dilsey's head, he set out at his
+best speed for Mammy; and Dilsey immediately jumped to her feet, and
+was soon on the lumber with her companions.
+
+"Now yer gwuf fum yer, gwuf fum yer!" said Mammy, furiously waving a
+cotton-stalk at Old Billy. "Gwuf fum yer, I tell you! I ain't bodern'
+you. I jes come fur de chil'en, an' yer bet not fool 'long er me, yer
+low-life sheep."
+
+But Old Billy, not caring a fig for Mammy's dignity or importance,
+planted his head in her breast, and over the old lady went backwards.
+At this the children, who loved Mammy dearly, set up a yell, and
+Mammy, still waving the cotton-stalk, attempted to rise, but Billy was
+ready for her, and, with a well-aimed blow, sent her back to the
+earth.
+
+"Now yer stop dat," said Mammy. "I don't want ter fool wid yer; I lay
+I'll bus' yer head open mun, ef I git er good lick at yer; yer better
+gwuf fum yer!" But Billy, being master of the situation, stood his
+ground, and I dare say Mammy would have been lying there yet, but
+fortunately Uncle Sambo and Bill, the wagoners, came along the big
+road, and, hearing the children's cries, they came upon the scene of
+action, and, taking their whips to Old Billy, soon drove him away.
+
+"Mammy, we won't never run away any more," said Diddie, as Mammy came
+up; "'twas Dumps's fault, anyhow."
+
+"Nem min', yer ma's gwine whup yer," said Mammy; "yer'd no business at
+dis gin-house long o' dat sheep, an' I won'er what you kinky-head
+niggers is fur, ef yer can't keep de chil'en in de yard: come yer ter
+me!" And, picking up a cotton-stalk, she gave each of the little
+darkies a sound whipping.
+
+The children were more fortunate. Mamma lectured them on the sin of
+running away from Mammy; but she put a piece of court-plaster on
+Diddie's head, and kissed all of the dirty little faces, much to
+Mammy's disgust, who grumbled a good deal because they were not
+punished, saying,
+
+"Missis is er spilin' dese chil'en, let'n uv 'em cut up all kind er
+capers. Yer all better hyear me, mun. Yer better quit dem ways yer
+got, er runnin' off an' er gwine in de mud, an' er gittin' yer cloes
+tor'd, an' er gittin' me butted wid sheeps; yer better quit it, I tell
+yer; ef yer don't, de deb'l gwine git yer, sho's yer born."
+
+But, notwithstanding her remarks, the little girls had a nice hot
+supper, and went to bed quite happy, while Mammy seated herself in her
+rocking-chair, and entertained Aunt Milly for some time with the
+children's evil doings and their mother's leniency.
+
+  CHAPTER V
+
+ DIDDIE'S BOOK
+
+ONE morning Diddie came into the nursery with a big blank-book and a
+lead-pencil in her hand.
+
+"What's that, Diddie?" asked Dumps, leaving her paper dolls on the
+floor where she had been playing with Chris, and coming to her
+sister's side.
+
+"Now don't you bother me, Dumps," said Diddie; "I'm goin' to write a
+book."
+
+"Are you?" said Dumps, her eyes opening wide in astonishment. "Who's
+goin' ter tell yer what ter say?"
+
+"I'm goin' ter make it up out o' my head," said Diddie; "all about
+little girls and boys and ladies."
+
+"I wouldn't have no boys in it," said Dumps; "they're always so
+hateful: there's Cousin Frank broke up my tea-set, an' Johnnie Miller
+tied er string so tight roun' Cherubim's neck till hit nyearly choked
+'im. Ef I was writin' er book, I wouldn't have no boys in it."
+
+"There's boun' ter be boys in it, Dumps; you can't write a book
+without'n boys;" and Diddie seated herself, and opened the book before
+her, while Dumps, with her elbows on the table and face in her hands,
+looked on anxiously. "I'm not goin' ter write jes one straight book,"
+said Diddie; "I'm goin' ter have little short stories, an' little
+pieces of poetry, an' all kin' of things; an' I'll name one of the
+stories 'Nettie Herbert:' don't you think that's a pretty name,
+Dumps?"
+
+"Jes' beautiful," replied Dumps; and Diddie wrote the name at the
+beginning of the book.
+
+"Don't you think two pages on this big paper will be long enough for
+one story?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Plenty," answered Dumps. So at the bottom of the second page Diddie
+wrote "The END of Nettie Herbert."
+
+"Now, what would you name the second story?" asked Diddie, biting her
+pencil thoughtfully.
+
+"I'd name it 'The Bad Little Girl,'" answered Dumps.
+
+"Yes, that will do," said Diddie, and she wrote "The Bad Little Girl"
+at the top of the third page; and, allowing two pages for the story,
+she wrote "The END of The Bad Little Girl" at the bottom of the next
+page.
+
+"And now it's time for some poetry," said Diddie, and she wrote
+"Poetry" at the top of the fifth page, and so on until she had divided
+all of her book into places for stories and poetry. She had three
+stories-- "Nettie Herbert," "The Bad Little Girl," and "Annie's Visit
+to her Grandma." She had one place for poetry, and two places she had
+marked "History;" for, as she told Dumps, she wasn't going to write
+anything unless it was useful; she wasn't going to write just trash.
+
+The titles being all decided upon, Dumps and Chris went back to their
+dolls, and Diddie began to write her first story.
+
+"NETTIE HERBERT."
+
+"Nettie Herbert was a poor little girl;" and then she stopped and
+asked,
+
+"Dumps, would you have Nettie Herbert a po' little girl?"
+
+"No, I wouldn't have nobody er po' little girl," said Dumps,
+conclusively, and Diddie drew a line through what she had written, and
+began again.
+
+"Nettie Herbert was a rich little girl, and she lived with her pa and
+ma in a big house in Nu Orlins; and one time her father give her a
+gold dollar, and she went down town, and bort a grate big wax doll
+with open and shet eyes, and a little cooking stove with pots and
+kittles, and a wuck box, and lots uv peices uv clorf to make doll
+cloes, and a bu-te-ful gold ring, and a lockit with her pas hare in
+it, and a big box full uv all kinds uv candy and nuts and razens and
+ornges and things, and a little git-ar to play chunes on, and two
+little tubs and some little iuns to wash her doll cloes with; then she
+bort a little wheelbarrer, and put all the things in it, and started
+fur home. When she was going a long, presently she herd sumbody cryin
+and jes a sobbin himself most to deaf; and twas a poor little boy all
+barefooted and jes as hungry as he could be; and he said his ma was
+sick, and his pa was dead, and he had nine little sisters and seven
+little bruthers, and he hadnt had a mouthful to eat in two weeks, and
+no place to sleep, nor nuthin. So Nettie went to a doctors house, and
+told him she would give him the gold ring fur some fyssick fur the
+little boys muther; and the doctor give her some castor-oil and
+parrygorick, and then she went on tell they got to the house, and
+Nettie give her the fyssick, and some candy to take the taste out of
+her mouth, and it done her lots uv good; and she give all her nuts and
+candy to the poor little chillen. And she went back to the man what
+sold her the things, and told him all about it; and he took back all
+the little stoves and tubs and iuns and things she had bort, and give
+her the money, and she carried it strait to the poor woman, and told
+her to buy some bread and cloes for her chillen. The poor woman
+thanked her very much, and Nettie told em good-by, and started fur
+home."
+
+Here Diddie stopped suddenly and said,
+
+"Come here a little minute, Dumps; I want you to help me wind up this
+tale." Then, after reading it aloud, she said, "You see, I've only got
+six mo' lines of paper, an' I haven't got room to tell all that
+happened to her, an' what become of her. How would you wind up, if you
+were me?"
+
+"I b'lieve I'd say, she furgive her sisters, an' married the prince,
+an' lived happy ever afterwards, like 'Cinderilla an' the Little Glass
+Slipper.'"
+
+"Oh, Dumps, you're such er little goose; that kind of endin' wouldn't
+suit my story at all," said Diddie; "but I'll have to wind up somehow,
+for all the little girls who read the book will want to know what
+become of her, an' there's only six lines to wind up in; an' she's
+only a little girl, an' she can't get married; besides, there ain't
+any prince in Nu Orlins. No, somethin' will have to happen to her. I
+tell you, I b'lieve I'll make a runaway horse run over her goin'
+home."
+
+"Oh, no, Diddie, please don't," entreated Dumps; "po' little Nettie,
+don't make the horse run over her."
+
+"I'm obliged to, Dumps; you mustn't be so tender-hearted; she's got
+ter be wound up somehow, an' I might let the Injuns scalp her, or the
+bears eat her up, an' I'm sure that's a heap worse than jes er horse
+runnin' over her; an' then you know she ain't no sho' nuff little
+girl; she's only made up out of my head."
+
+"I don't care, I don't want the horse to run over her. I think it's
+bad enough to make her give 'way all her candy an' little tubs an'
+iuns an' wheelbarrers, without lettin' the horses run over her; an' ef
+that's the way you're goin' ter do, I sha'n't have nuthin' 'tall ter
+do with it."
+
+And Dumps, having thus washed her hands of the whole affair, went back
+to her dolls, and Diddie resumed her writing:
+
+"As she was agoin along, presently she herd sumthin cumin
+book-er-ty-book, book-er-ty-book, and there was a big horse and a
+buggy cum tearin down the road, and she ran jes hard as she could; but
+befo she could git out er the way, the horse ran rite over her, and
+killed her, and all the people took her up and carried her home, and
+put flowers all on her, and buried her at the church, and played the
+organ 'bout her; and that's
+
+the END of Nettie Herbert."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" she sighed, when she had finished, "I am tired of
+writin' books; Dumps, sposin' you make up 'bout the 'Bad Little Girl,'
+an' I'll write it down jes like you tell me."
+
+"All right," assented Dumps, once more leaving her dolls, and coming
+to the table. Then, after thinking for a moment, she began, with great
+earnestness:
+
+"Once pun er time there was er bad little girl, an' she wouldn't min'
+nobody, nor do no way nobody wanted her to; and when her mother went
+ter give her fyssick, you jes ought ter seen her cuttin' up! she
+skweeled, an' she holler'd, an' she kicked, an' she jes done ev'y bad
+way she could; an' one time when she was er goin' on like that the
+spoon slipped down her throat, an' choked her plum ter death; an' not
+long after that, when she was er playin' one day--"
+
+"Oh, but, Dumps," interrupted Diddie, "you said she was dead."
+
+"No, I nuver said nuthin' 'bout her bein' dead," replied Dumps; "an'
+ef you wrote down that she's dead, then you wrote a story, 'cause
+she's livin' as anybody."
+
+"You said the spoon choked her to death," said Diddie.
+
+"Well, hit nuver killed her, anyhow," said Dumps; "hit jes only give
+her spasums; an' now you've gone and put me all out; what was I
+sayin'?"
+
+"When she was er playin' one day," prompted Diddie.
+
+"Oh yes," continued Dumps, "when she was er playin' one day on the
+side uv the creek with her little sister, she got ter fightin' an'
+pinchin' an' scrougin', an' the fus thing she knowed, she fell
+kersplash in the creek, and got drownded. An' one time her mammy tol'
+'er not nuber ter clim' up on the fender, an' she neber min' 'er, but
+clum right upon the fender ter git an apple off'n the mantelpiece; an'
+the fender turned over, an' she fell in the fire an' burnt all up. An'
+another time, jes er week after that, she was er foolin' 'long--"
+
+"Dumps, what are you talkin' 'bout?" again interrupted Diddie. "She
+couldn't be er foolin' long o' nothin' ef she's dead."
+
+"But she ain't dead, Diddie," persisted Dumps.
+
+"Well, you said the fire burned her up," retorted Diddie.
+
+"I don't care ef hit did," said Dumps; "she nuver died bout hit; an'
+ef you're goin' ter keep sayin' she's dead, then I sha'n't tell yer no
+mo'."
+
+"Go on, then," said Diddie, "an I won't bother you."
+
+"Well, one time," continued Dumps, "when she was er foolin' 'long o'
+cow, what she had no business, the cow run his horns right thorough
+her neck, an' throwed her way-ay-ay up yon'er; an' she nuver come down
+no mo', an' that's all."
+
+"But, Dumps, what become of her?" asked Diddie.
+
+"I dunno what become uv her," said Dumps. "She went ter hebn, I
+reckon."
+
+"But she couldn't go ter hebn ef she's so bad," said Diddie; "the
+angel wouldn't let her come in,"
+
+"The cow throwed her in," said Dumps, "an' the angel wan't er lookin',
+an' he nuver knowed nothin' 'bout it."
+
+"That's er mighty funny story," said Diddie; "but I'll let it stay in
+the book-- only you ain't finished it, Dumps. Hyear's fo' mo' lines of
+paper ain't written yet."
+
+"That's all I know," replied Dumps. And Diddie, after considering
+awhile, said she thought it would be very nice to wind it up with a
+piece of poetry. Dumps was delighted at that suggestion, and the
+little girls puzzled their brains for rhymes. After thinking for some
+time, Diddie wrote,
+
+  "Once 'twas a little girl, and she was so bad,"
+
+and read it aloud; then said, "Now, Dumps, sposin' you make up the
+nex' line."
+
+Dumps buried her face in her hands, and remained in deep study for a
+few moments, and presently said,
+
+  "And now she is dead, an' I am so glad."
+
+"Oh, Dumps, that's too wicked," said Diddie. "You mustn't never be
+glad when anybody's dead; that's too wicked a poetry; I sha'n't write
+it in the book."
+
+"Well, I nuver knowed nuthin' else," said Dumps. "I couldn't hardly
+make that up; I jes had ter study all my might; and I'm tired of
+writin' poetry, anyhow; you make it up all by yourse'f."
+
+Diddie, with her brows drawn together in a frown, and her eyes tight
+shut, chewed the end of her pencil, and, after a few moments, said,
+
+"Dumps, do you min' ef the cow was to run his horns through her forrid
+stid of her neck?"
+
+"No, hit don't make no diffrence to me," replied Dumps.
+
+"Well, then," said Diddie, "ef 'twas her forrid, I kin fix it."
+
+So, after a little more study and thought, Diddie wound up the story
+thus:
+
+  "Once 'twas er little girl, so wicked and horrid,
+   Till the cow run his horns right slap through her forrid,
+   And throwed her to hebn all full of her sin,
+   And, the gate bein open, he pitched her right in."
+
+And that was "The END of the Bad Little Girl."
+
+"Now there's jes one mo' tale," said Diddie, "and that's about
+'Annie's Visit,' an I'm tired of makin' up books; Chris, can't you
+make up that?"
+
+"I dunno hit," said Chris, "but I kin tell yer 'bout'n de tar baby, el
+dat'll do."
+
+"Don't you think that'll do jes as well, Dumps?" asked Diddie.
+
+'Certingly!" replied Dumps. So Diddie drew her pencil through "Annie's
+Visit," and wrote in its place,
+
+"THE TAR BABY,"
+
+and Chris began:
+
+"Once pun a time, 'twuz er ole Rabbit an' er ole Fox and er ole Coon:
+an' dey all lived close togedder; an' de ole Fox he had him er mighty
+fine goober-patch, w'at he nuber 'low nobody ter tech; an' one mornin'
+atter he git up, an' wuz er walkin' 'bout in his gyarden, he seed
+tracks, an' he foller de tracks, an' he see wahr sumbody ben er
+grabhin' uv his goobers. An' ev'y day he see de same thing; an' he
+watch, an' he watch, an' he couldn't nubber catch nobody! an' he went,
+he did, ter de Coon, and he sez, sezee, 'Brer Coon, dar's sumbody
+stealin' uv my goobers.'
+
+"'Well,' sez Brer Coon, sezee, 'I bet yer hit's Brer Rabbit.'
+
+"'I lay I'll fix 'im,' sez Brer Fox; so he goes, he does, and he
+tuck'n made er man out'n tar, an' he sot 'im, he did, right in de
+middle uv de goober-patch. Well, sar, soon ez eber de moon riz, Brer
+Rabbit, he stole out'n his house, and he lit right out fur dem
+goobers; and by'mby he sees de tar man er stanin' dar, an' he hollers
+out, 'Who's dat er stanin' dar an' er fixin' ter steal Brer Fox's
+goobers?' Den he lis'en, and nobody nuver anser, and he 'gin ter git
+mad, and he sez, sezee, 'Yer brack nigger you, yer better anser me wen
+I speaks ter yer;' and wid dat he hault off, he did, and hit de tar
+baby side de head, and his han' stuck fas' in de tar. Now yer better
+turn me er loose,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; I got er nuther han' lef','
+and 'ker bum' he come wid his udder han', on de tar baby's tuther jaw,
+an' dat han' stuck.
+
+"'Look er hyear! who yer foolin' wid?' sez Brer Rabbit; 'I got er foot
+yit.' Den he kick wid all his might, an' his foot stuck. Den he kick
+wid his udder foot, an' dat stuck. Den Brer Rabbit he 'gun ter git
+madder'n he wuz, an' sezee, 'Ef yer fool 'long o' me mun I'll butt de
+life out'n yer," an' he hault off wid his head, an' butt de tar baby
+right in de chis, an' his head stuck. Dar he wuz! an' dar he had ter
+stay, till, by'mby, Brer Fox he come er long, an' he seed de Rabbit er
+stickin' dar, an' he tuck him up, an' he cyard 'im long ter Brer
+Coon's house, an' he sez, sezee,
+
+"'Brer Coon, hyear's de man wat stole my goobers; now wat mus' I do
+wid 'im?'
+
+"Brer Coon tuck de Fox off one side, he did, an' he say, 'Le's give
+'im his chice, wheder he'd er ruther be tho'd in de fire or de
+brier-patch; an' ef he say de fire, den we'll fling 'im in de briers;
+an' ef he say de briers, den we'll fling 'im in de fire.' So dey went
+back ter de Rabbit, an' ax 'im wheder he'd er ruther be tho'd in de
+fire or de briers.
+
+"'Oh, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'plee-ee-eeze don't tho me in de briers, an'
+git me all scratched up; plee-ee-eeze tho me in de fire; fur de Lord's
+sake,' sezee, 'don't tho me in de briers.'
+
+"And wid dat, Brer Fox he lif' 'im up, an' tho'd 'im way-ay-ay over in
+de briers. Den Brer Rabbit he kick up his heels, he did, an' he laugh,
+an' he laugh, an' he holler out,
+
+"'Good-bye, Brer Fox! Far' yer well, Brer Coon! I wuz born an' riz in
+de briers!' And wid dat he lit right out, he did, an' he nuber stop
+tell he got clean smack home."
+
+The children were mightily pleased with this story; and Diddie, after
+carefully writing underneath it,
+
+"The END of The Tar Baby,"
+
+said she could write the poetry and history part some other day; so
+she closed the book, and gave it to Mammy to put away for her, and she
+and Dumps went out for a ride on Corbin.
+
+  CHAPTER VI
+
+ UNCLE SNAKE-BIT BOB'S SUNDAY-SCHOOL
+
+THERE, was no more faithful slave in all the Southland than old Uncle
+Snake-bit Bob. He had been bitten by a rattlesnake when he was a baby,
+and the limb had to be amputated, and its place was supplied with a
+wooden peg. There were three or four other "Bobs" on the plantation,
+and he was called Snake-bit to distinguish him. Though lame, and sick
+a good deal of his time, his life had not been wasted, nor had he been
+a useless slave to his master. He made all of the baskets that were
+used in the cotton-picking season, and had learned to mend shoes;
+besides that, he was the great horse-doctor of the neighborhood, and
+not only cured his master's horses and mules, but was sent for for
+miles around to see the sick stock; and then too, he could re-bottom
+chairs, and make buckets and tubs and brooms; and all of the money he
+made was his own: so the old man had quite a little store of gold and
+silver sewed up in an old bag and buried somewhere-- nobody knew where
+except himself; for Uncle Snake-bit Bob had never married, and had no
+family ties; and furthermore, he was old Granny Rachel's only child,
+and Granny had died long, long ago, ever since the children's mother
+was a baby, and he had no brothers or sisters. So, having no cause to
+spend his money, he had laid it up until now he was a miser, and would
+steal out by himself at night and count his gold and silver, and
+chuckle over it with great delight.
+
+But he was a very good old man; as Mammy used to say, "he wuz de
+piuses man dar wuz on de place;" and he had for years led in "de
+pra'r-meetin's, and called up de mo'ners."
+
+One evening, as he sat on a hog-pen talking to Uncle Daniel, who was a
+preacher, they began to speak of the wickedness among the young
+negroes on the plantation.
+
+"Pyears ter me," said Uncle Rob, "ez ef dem niggers done furgot dey
+got ter die; dey jes er dancin' an' er cavortin' ev'y night, an'
+dey'll git lef', mun, wheneber dat angel blow his horn. I tell you
+what I ben er stud'n, Brer Dan'l. I ben er stud'n dat what's de matter
+wid deze niggers is, dat de chil'en ain't riz right. Yer know de Book
+hit sez ef yer raise de chil'en, like yer want 'em ter go, den de ole
+uns dey won't part fum hit; an', sar, ef de Lord spars me tell nex'
+Sunday, I 'low ter ax marster ter lemme teach er Sunday-school in de
+gin-house fur de chil'en."
+
+Major Waldron heartily consented to Uncle Bob's proposition, and had
+the gin-house all swept out for him, and had the carpenter to make him
+some rough benches. And when the next Sunday evening came around, all
+of the little darkies, with their heads combed and their Sunday
+clothes on, assembled for the Sunday-school. The white children begged
+so hard to go too, that finally Mammy consented to take them. So when
+Uncle Snake-bit Bob walked into the gin-house, their eager little
+faces were among those of his pupils. "Niw, you all sot down," said
+Uncle Rob, "an' 'have yerse'fs till I fix yer in er line."
+
+Having arranged them to his satisfaction, he delivered to them a short
+address, setting forth the object of the meeting, and his intentions
+concerning them. "Chil'en," he began, "I fotch yer hyear dis ebenin
+fur ter raise yer like yer ought ter be riz. De folks deze days is er
+gwine ter strucshun er dancin' an' er pickin' uv banjers an' er
+singin' uv reel chunes an' er cuttin' up uv ev'y kin' er dev'lment. I
+ben er watchin' 'em; an', min' yer, when de horn hit soun' fur de jes'
+ter rise, half de niggers gwine ter be wid de onjes'. An' I 'low ter
+myse'f dat I wuz gwine ter try ter save de chil'en. I gwine ter pray
+fur yer, I gwine ter struc yer, an' I gwine do my bes' ter lan' yer in
+hebn. Now yer jes pay tenshun ter de strucshun I gwine give yer--
+dat's all I ax uv yer-- an' me an' de Lord we gwine do de res'."
+
+After this exhortation, the old man began at the top of the line, and
+asked "Gus," a bright-eyed little nig, "Who made you?"
+
+"I dun no, sar," answered Gus, very untruthfully, for Aunt Nancy had
+told him repeatedly.
+
+"God made yer," said Uncle Bob. "Now, who Inane yer? '
+
+"God," answered Gus.
+
+"Dat's right," said the old man; then proceeded to "Jim," the next in
+order. "What'd he make yer out'n?" demanded the teacher.
+
+"I dunno, sar," answered Jim, with as little regard for truth as Gus
+had shown.
+
+"He made yer out'n dut," said Uncle Bob. "Now, what'd he make yer
+out'n?"
+
+"Dut," answered Jim, promptly, and the old man passed on to the next.
+
+"What'd he make yer fur?"
+
+Again the answer was, "I dunno, sar;" and the old man, after
+scratching his head and reflecting a moment, said, "Fur ter do de bes'
+yer kin," which the child repeated after him.
+
+"Who wuz de fus man?" was his next question; and the little nig
+professing ignorance, as usual, the old man replied, "Marse Adum." And
+so he went all down the line, explaining that "Marse Cain kilt his
+brudder;" that "Marse Abel wuz de fus man slewed;" that "Marse Noah
+built de ark;" that "Marse Thuselum wuz de oldes' man," and so on,
+until he reached the end of the line, and had almost exhausted his
+store of information. Then, thinking to see how much the children
+remembered, he began at the top of the line once more, and asked the
+child,
+
+"Who made yer?"
+
+"Dut," answered the little negro.
+
+"Who?" demanded Uncle Bob, in astonishment.
+
+"Dut," replied the child.
+
+"Didn' I tell yer God made yer?" asked the old man.
+
+"No, sar," replied the boy; "dat'n wat God made done slip out de do'."
+
+And so it was. As soon as Uncle Bob's back was turned, Gus, who had
+wearied of the Sunday-school, slipped out, and the old man had not
+noticed the change.
+
+The confusion resulting from this trifling circumstances was fearful.
+"Dut" made the first child. The question, "What did he make yer fur?"
+was promptly answered, "Marse Adum." "Eve wuz de fus man." "Marse Cain
+wuz de fus 'oman." "Marse Abel kilt his brudder." "Marse Noah wuz de
+fus one slewed." "Marse Thuselum built de ark." And so on, until the
+old man had to begin all over again, and give each one a new answer.
+The catechising through with, Uncle Bob said:
+
+"Now, chil'en, I gwine splain de Scripchurs ter yer. I gwine tell yer
+boutn Dan'l in de lions' den. Dan'l wuz er good Christyun man wat
+lived in de Bible; and whedder he wuz er white man or whedder he wuz
+er brack man I dunno; I ain't nuber hyeard nobody say. But dat's neder
+hyear no dar; he wuz er good man, and he pray tree times eby day. At
+de fus peepin' uv de day, Brer Dan'l he usen fur ter hop outn his bed
+and git down on his knees; and soon's eber de horn hit blowed fur de
+hans ter come outn de field fur dinner, Brer Dan'l he went in his
+house, he did, and he flop right back on 'is knees. And wen de sun
+set, den dar he wuz agin er prayin' and er strivin' wid de Lord.
+
+"Well, de king uv dat kentry, he 'low he nuber want no prayin' bout
+'im; he sez, sezee, 'I want de thing fur ter stop'; but Brer Dan'l, he
+nuber studid 'im; he jes prayed right on, tell by'mby de king he 'low
+dat de nex' man wat he cotch prayin' he wuz gwine cas'm in de lions'
+den.
+
+"Well, nex' mornin, soon's Brer Dan'l riz fum 'is bed, he lit right on
+'is knees, an' went ter prayin'; an' wile he wuz er wrestlin' in prar
+de pater-rollers dey come in' an' dey tied 'im han' an' foot wid er
+rope, an' tuck 'im right erlong tell dey come ter de lions' den; an'
+wen dey wuz yit er fur ways fum dar dey hyeard de lions er ro'in an'
+er sayin', 'Ar-ooorrrrar! aroooorrrrrar!' an' all dey hearts 'gun ter
+quake sept'n Brer Dan'l's; he nuber note's 'em; he jes pray 'long.
+By'mby dey git ter de den, an' dey tie er long rope roun' Brer Dan'l's
+was'e, an' tho 'im right in! an' den dey drawed up de rope, an' went
+back whar dey come fum.
+
+"Well, yearly nex' mornin hyear dey come agin, an' dis time de king he
+come wid 'em; an' dey hyeard de lions er ro'in, 'Ar-ooorrrrar!
+arooorrrrar!' an' dey come ter de den, an' dey open de do', an' dar
+wuz de lions wid dey mouf open an' dey eyes er shinin,' jes er
+trompin' backerds an f'orerds; an' dar in de corner sot an angel
+smoovin' uv 'is wings; an' right in de middle uv de den was Dan'l, jes
+er sot'n back dar! Gemmun, he wuzn totch! he nuber so much as had de
+smell uv de lions bout'n 'im! he wuz jes as whole, mun, as he wuz de
+day he wuz born! Eben de boots on 'im, sar, wuz ez shiny ez dey wuz
+wen dey put 'im in dar.
+
+"An' he jes clum up de side uv de den, he did; an' soon's uber his
+feet tech de yeath, he sez ter de king, sezee, 'King, hit ain't no
+usen fur yer ter fool erlong o' me,' sezee; 'I'm er prayin' man mysef,
+an I 'low ter live an' die on my knees er prayin' an' er sarvin' de
+Lord.' Sezee, 'De Lord ain't gwine let de lions meddle long o' me,'
+sezee; 'I ain't fyeard o' nufn,' sezee. 'De Lord is my strengt an' my
+rocks, an' I ain't er fyeard o' NO man.' An' wid dat he helt er
+preachin', sar, right whar he wuz; an' he tol' 'em uv dey sins, an' de
+goodness uv de Lord. He preach de word, he did, right erlong, an'
+atter dat he 'gun ter sing dis hymn:
+
+  "'Dan'l wuz er prayin' man;
+    He pray tree times er day;
+    De Lord he hist de winder,
+    Fur ter hyear po' Dan'l pray.'
+
+"Den he 'gun ter call up de mo'ners, an' dey come too! Mun, de whole
+yeath wuz erlive wid 'em: de white folks dey went up; an' de niggers
+dey went up; an' de pater-rollers dey went up; an' de king he went up;
+an' dey all come thu an' got 'ligion; an' fum dat day dem folks is er
+sarvin' de Lord.
+
+"An' now, chil'en, efn yer be like Brer Dan'l, an' say yer prars, an'
+put yer pen'ence in de Lord, yer needn be er fyeard uv no lions; de
+Lord, he'll take cyar uv yer, an' he'll be mighty proud ter do it.
+
+"Now," continued the old man, "we'll close dis meet'n by singing uv er
+hymn, an' den yer kin all go. I'll give de hymn out, so's dar needn't
+be no 'scuse 'bout not know'n uv de words, an' so's yer all kin sing."
+
+The children rose to their feet, and Uncle Rob, with great solemnity,
+gave out the following hymn, which they all, white and black, sang
+with great fervor:
+
+  "O bless us, Lord! O bless us, Lord!
+   O bless us mo' an' mo';
+   Unless yer'll come an' bless us, Lord,
+   We will not let yer go.
+  "My marster, Lord; my marster, Lord--
+   O Lord, he does his bes',
+   So when yer savin' sinners, Lord,
+   Save him wid all de res'.
+  "O bless us, Lord! O bless us, Lord!
+   An' keep us in yer cyar;
+   Unless yer'll come an' bless us, Lord,
+   We're gwine ter hol' yer hyear.
+  "My missus, Lord; my missus, Lord,
+   O bless my missus now--
+   She's tryin' hard ter serve yer, Lord,
+   But den she dunno how.
+  "O bless us, Lord! O bless us, Lord!
+   O bless us now, we pray;
+   Unless ye'll come an' bless us, Lord,
+   We won't leave hyear ter day.
+  "Deze chil'en, Lord; deze chil'en, Lord,
+   O keep dey little feet
+   Er gwine straight ter hebn, Lord,
+   Fur ter walk dat golden street.
+  "O bless us, Lord! O bless us, Lord!
+   O come in all yer might;
+   Unless yer'll come an' bless us, Lord,
+   We'll wrestle hyear all night.
+  "Deze niggers, Lord; deze niggers, Lord,
+   Dey skins is black, hit's true,
+   But den dey souls is white, my Lord,
+   So won't yer bless dem too?
+  "O bless us, Lord! O bless us, Lord!
+   O bless us mo' an' mo';
+   Unless yer'll come an' bless us, Lord,
+   We'll keep yer hyear fur sho.
+  "All folkses, Lord; all folkses, Lord--
+   O Lord, bless all de same.
+   O bless de good, an' bless de bad,
+   Fur de glory uv dy name.
+  "Now bless us, Lord! now bless us, Lord!
+   Don't fool 'long o' us, no mo';
+   O sen' us down de blessin', Lord,
+   An' den we'll let yer go."
+
+  CHAPTER VII
+
+ POOR ANN
+
+"MISS Diddie!" called Dilsey, running into the nursery one morning in
+a great state of excitement; then, seeing that Diddie was not there,
+she stopped short, and demanded, "Whar Miss Diddie?"
+
+"She's sayin' her lessons," answered Dumps. "What do you want with
+her?"
+
+"De specerlaters is come," said Dilsey; "dey's right down yon'er on de
+crick banks back er de quarters."
+
+In an instant Dumps and Tot had abandoned their dolls, and Chris and
+Riar had thrown aside their quilt-pieces (for Aunt Milly was teaching
+them to sew), and they were all just leaving the room when Mammy
+entered.
+
+"Whar yer gwine?" asked Mammy.
+
+"Oh, Mammy, de specerlaters is come," said Dumps, "an' we're goin'
+down to the creek to see 'um."
+
+"No yer ain't, nuther," said Mammy. "Yer ain't er gwine er nyear dem
+specerlaters, er cotchin' uv measles an' hookin'-coffs an' sich, fum
+dem niggers. Yer ain't gwine er nyear 'um; an' yer jes ez well fur ter
+tuck off dem bunnits an' ter set yerse'fs right back on de flo' an' go
+ter playin'. An' efn you little niggers don't tuck up dem quilt-pieces
+an' go ter patchin' uv 'em, I lay I'll hu't yer, mun! Who dat tell
+deze chil'en 'bout de specerlaters?"
+
+"Hit uz Dilsey," answered Chris and Riar in a breath; and Mammy,
+giving Dilsey a sharp slap, said,
+
+"Now yer come er prancin' in hyear ergin wid all kin' er news, an' I
+bet yer'll be sorry fur it. Yer know better'n dat. Yer know deze
+chil'en ain't got no bizness 'long o' specerlaters."
+
+In the meanwhile Dumps and Tot were crying over their disappointment.
+
+"Yer mean old thing!" sobbed Dumps. "I ain't goin' ter min' yer,
+nuther; an' I sha'n't nuver go ter sleep no mo', an' let you go to
+prayer-meetin's; jes all time botherin' me, an' won't lemme see de
+specerlaters, nor nothin'."
+
+"Jes lis'en how yer talkin'," said Mammy, "given' me all dat sass.
+You're de sassies' chile marster's got. Nobody can't nuver larn yer no
+manners, allers er sassin ole pussons. Jes keep on, an' yer'll see
+wat'll happen ter yer; yer'll wake up some er deze mornins, an, yer
+won't have no hyear on yer head. I knowed er little gal onct wat
+sassed her mudder, an' de Lord he sent er angel in de night, he did,
+an' struck her plum' bald-headed."
+
+"You ain't none o' my mother," replied Dumps. "You're mos' black ez my
+shoes; an' de Lord ain't er goin' ter pull all my hair off jes 'boutn
+you."
+
+"I gwine right down-sta'rs an' tell yer ma," said Mammy. "She don't
+'low none o' you chil'en fur ter sass me, an' ter call me brack; she
+nuver done it herse'f, wan she wuz little. I'se got ter be treated wid
+'spec myse'f; ef I don't, den hit's time fur me ter quit min'en
+chil'en: I gwine tell yer ma."
+
+And Mammy left the room in high dudgeon, but presently came back, and
+said Dumps was to go to her mother at once.
+
+"What is the matter with my little daughter?" asked her father, as she
+came slowly downstairs, crying bitterly, and met him in the hall.
+
+"Mammy's ben er sa-a-as-sin me," sobbed Dumps; "an' she sa-aid de Lord
+wuz goin' ter sen' an angel fur ter git my ha-air, an' she won't
+lem'me go-o-o ter see de spec-ec-ec-erlaters."
+
+"Well, come in mamma's room," said her father, "and we'll talk it all
+over."
+
+And the upshot of the matter was that Major Waldron said he would
+himself take the children to the speculator's camp; and accordingly,
+as soon as dinner was over, they all started off in high glee-- the
+three little girls and the three little negroes-- leaving Mammy
+standing at the top of the stairs, muttering to herself, "Er catchin'
+uv de measles an' de hookin'-coffs."
+
+The speculator's camp was situated on the bank of the creek, and a
+very bright scene it presented as Major Waldron and his party came up
+to it. At a little distance from the main encampment was the
+speculator's tent, and the tents for the negroes were dotted here and
+there among the trees. Some of the women were sitting at the creek,
+others were cooking, and some were sitting in front of their tents
+sewing; numbers of little negroes were playing about, and, altogether,
+the "speculator's camp" was not the horrible thing that one might
+suppose.
+
+The speculator, who was a jolly-looking man weighing over two hundred
+pounds, came forward to meet Major Waldron and show him over the
+encampment.
+
+The negroes were well clothed, well fed, and the great majority of
+them looked exceedingly happy.
+
+They came across one group of boys and girls dancing and singing. An
+old man, in another group, had collected a number of eager listeners
+around him, and was recounting some marvellous tale; but occasionally
+there would be a sad face and a tearful eye, and Mr. Waldron sighed as
+he passed these, knowing that they were probably grieving over the
+home and friends they had left.
+
+As they came to one of the tents, the speculator said, "There is a
+sick yellow woman in there, that I bought in Maryland. She had to be
+sold in the settlement of an estate, and she has fretted herself
+almost to death; she is in such bad health now that I doubt if anybody
+will buy her, though she has a very likely little boy about two years
+old."
+
+Mr. Waldron expressed a wish to see the woman, and they went in.
+
+Lying on a very comfortable bed was a woman nearly white; her eyes
+were deep-sunken in her head, and she was painfully thin. Mr. Waldron
+took her hand in his and looked into her sad eyes.
+
+"Do you feel much pain?" he asked, tenderly.
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the woman, "I suffer a great deal; and I am so
+unhappy, sir, about my baby; I can't live long, and what will become
+of him? If I only had a home, where I could make friends for him
+before I die, where I could beg and entreat the people to be kind to
+him and take care of him! 'Tis that keeps me sick, sir."
+
+By this time Diddie's eyes were swimming in tears, and Dumps was
+sobbing aloud; seeing which, Tot began to cry too, though she hadn't
+the slightest idea what was the matter; and Diddie, going to the side
+of the bed, smoothed the woman's long black hair, and said,
+
+"We'll take you home with us, an' we'll be good to your little boy, me
+an' Dumps an' Tot, an' I'll give 'im some of my marbles."
+
+"An' my little painted wagin," put in Dumps.
+
+"An' you shall live with us always," continued Diddie; "an' Mammy'll
+put yer feet into hot water, an' rub turkentine on yer ches', an' give
+yer 'fermifuge' ev'y mornin', an' you'll soon be well. Papa, sha'n't
+she go home with us?"
+
+Major Waldron's own eyes moistened as he answered,
+
+"We will see about it, my daughter;" and, telling the woman whose name
+was Ann, that he would see her again, he left the tent, and presently
+the camp.
+
+That night, after the little folks were asleep, Major Waldron and his
+wife had a long talk about the sick woman and her little boy, and it
+was decided between them that Major Waldron should go the next morning
+and purchase them both.
+
+The children were delighted when they knew of this decision, and took
+an active part in preparing one room of the laundry for Ann's
+reception. Their mother had a plain bedstead moved in, and sent down
+from the house a bed and mattress, which she supplied with sheets,
+pillows, blankets, and a quilt. Then Uncle Nathan, the carpenter, took
+a large wooden box and put shelves in it, and tacked some
+bright-colored calico all around it, and made a bureau. Two or three
+chairs were spared from the nursery, and Diddie put some of her toys
+on the mantel-piece for the baby; and then, when they had brought in a
+little square table and covered it with a neat white cloth, and placed
+upon it a mug of flowers, and when Uncle Nathan had put up some
+shelves in one corner of the roof, and driven some pegs to hang
+clothes on, they pronounced the room all ready.
+
+And Ann, who had lived for several months in the camp, was delighted
+with her new home and the preparations that her little mistresses had
+made for her. The baby, too, laughed and clapped his hands over the
+toys the children gave him. His name was Henry, and a very pretty
+child he was. He was almost as white as Tot, and his black hair curled
+in ringlets all over his head; but, strange to say, neither he nor his
+mother gained favor with the negroes on the place.
+
+Mammy said openly that she "nuver had no 'pinion uv white niggers,"
+and that "marster sholy had niggers 'nuff fur ter wait on 'im doutn
+buyen 'em."
+
+But, for all that, Ann and her little boy were quite happy. She was
+still sick, and could never be well, for she had consumption; though
+she got much better, and could walk about the yard, and sit in front
+of her door with Henry in her lap. Her devotion to her baby was
+unusual in a slave; she could not bear to have him out of her sight,
+and never seemed happy unless he was playing around her or nestling in
+her arms.
+
+Mrs. Waldron, of course, never exacted any work of Ann. They had
+bought her simply to give her a home and take care of her, and
+faithfully that duty was performed. Her meals were carried from the
+table, and she had every attention paid to her comfort.
+
+One bright evening, when she was feeling better than usual, she went
+out for a walk, and, passing Uncle Snake-bit Bob's shop, she stopped
+to look at his baskets, and to let little Henry pick up some white-oak
+splits that he seemed to have set his heart on.
+
+The old man, like all the other negroes, was indignant that his master
+should have purchased her; for they all prided themselves on being
+inherited, and "didn't want no bought folks" among them. He had never
+seen her, and now would scarcely look at or speak to her.
+
+"You weave these very nicely," said Ann, examining one of his baskets.
+Uncle Bob looked up, and, seeing she was pale and thin, offered her a
+seat, which she accepted.
+
+"Is this always your work?" asked Ann, by way of opening a
+conversation with the old man.
+
+"In cose 'tis," he replied; "who dat gwine ter make de baskits les'n
+hit's me? I done make baskits 'fo mistiss wuz born; I usen ter 'long
+ter her pa; I ain't no bort nigger myse'f."
+
+"You are certainly very fortunate," answered Ann, "for the slave that
+has never been on the block can never know the full bitterness of
+slavery."
+
+"Wy, yer talkin' same ez white folks," said Uncle Bob. "Whar yer git
+all dem fine talkin's fum? ain't you er nigger same ez me?"
+
+"Yes, I am a negress, Uncle Bob; or, rather, my mother was a slave,
+and I was born in slavery; but I have had the misfortune to have been
+educated."
+
+"Kin yer read in de book?" asked the old man earnestly.
+
+"Oh yes, as well as anybody."
+
+"Who showed yer?" asked Uncle Bob.
+
+"My mistress had me taught; but, if it won't bother you, I'll just
+tell you all about it, for I want to get your interest, Uncle Bob, and
+gain your love, if I can-- yours, and everybody's on the place-- for I
+am sick, and must die, and I want to make friends, so they will be
+kind to my baby. Shall I tell you my story?"
+
+The old man nodded his head, and went on with his work, while Ann
+related to him the sad history of her life.
+
+"My mother, who was a favorite slave, died when I was born; and my
+mistress, who had a young baby only a few days older than myself, took
+me to nurse. I slept, during my infancy, in the cradle with my little
+mistress, and afterwards in the room with her, and thus we grew up as
+playmates and companions until we reached our seventh year, when we
+both had scarlet fever. My little mistress, who was the only child of
+a widow, died; and her mother, bending over her death-bed, cried, 'I
+will have no little daughter now!' when the child placed her arms
+about her and said, 'Mamma, let Ann be your daughter; she'll be your
+little girl; I'll go to her mamma, and she'll stay with my mamma.'
+
+"And from that time I was no more a slave, but a child in the house.
+My mistress brought a governess for me from the North, and I was
+taught as white girls are. I was fond of my books, and my life was a
+very happy one, though we lived on a lonely plantation, and had but
+little company.
+
+"I was almost white, as you see, and my mistress had taught me to call
+her mamma. I was devoted to her, and very fond of my governess, and
+they both petted me as if I really had been a daughter instead of a
+slave. Four years ago the brother of my governess came out from
+Vermont to make his sister a visit at our home. He fell in love with
+me, and I loved him dearly, and, accompanied by my 'mamma' and his
+sister, we went into Pennsylvania, and were married. You know we could
+not be married in Maryland, for it is a Slave State, and I was a
+slave. My mistress had, of course, always intended that I should be
+free, but neglected from time to time to draw up the proper papers.
+
+"For two years after my marriage my husband and I lived on the
+plantation, he managing the estate until he was called to Washington
+on business, and, in returning, the train was thrown down an
+embankment, and he was among the killed.
+
+"Soon after that my baby was born, and before he was six months old my
+mistress died suddenly, when it was found that the estate was
+insolvent, and everything must be sold to pay the debts; and I and my
+baby, with the other goods and chattels, were put up for sale. Mr.
+Martin, the speculator, bought me, thinking I would bring a fancy
+price; but my heart was broken, and I grieved until my health gave
+way, so that nobody ever wanted me, until your kind-hearted master
+bought me to give me a home to die in. But oh, Uncle Bob," she
+continued, bursting into tears, "to think my boy, my baby, must be a
+slave! His father's relatives are poor. He had only a widowed mother
+and two sisters. They are not able to buy my child, and he must be
+raised in ignorance, to do another's bidding all his life, my poor
+little baby! His dear father hated slavery, and it seems so hard that
+his son must be a slave!"
+
+"Now don't yer take on like dat, er makin' uv yerse'f sick," said
+Uncle Bob; "I know wat I gwine do; my min' hit's made up; hit's true,
+I'm brack, but den my min' hit's made up. Now you go on back ter de
+house, outn dis damp a'r, an' tuck cyar er yerse'f, an' don't yer be
+er frettin', nuther, caze my marster, he's de bes' man dey is; an'
+den, 'sides dat, my min' hit's made up. Hyear, honey," addressing the
+child, "take deze hyear white-oak splits an' go'n make yer er baskit
+'long o' yer ma."
+
+Ann and her baby returned to the house, but Uncle Snake-bit Rob, long
+after the sun went down, still sat on his little bench in front of his
+shop, his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands; and
+when it grew quite dark he rose, and put away his splits and his
+baskets, saying to himself,
+
+"Well, I know wat I'm gwine do; my min' hit's made up."
+
+  CHAPTER VIII
+
+ UNCLE BOB'S PROPOSITION
+
+THE night after Ann's interview with Uncle Bob, Major Waldron was
+sitting in his library looking over some papers, when some one knocked
+at the door, and, in response to his hearty "Come in," Uncle Snake-bit
+Bob entered.
+
+"Ebenin' ter yer, marster," said the old man, scraping his foot and
+bowing his head.
+
+"How are you, Uncle Bob?" responded his master.
+
+"I'm jes po'ly, thank God," replied Uncle Bob, in the answer
+invariably given by Southern slaves to the query "How are you?" No
+matter if they were fat as seals, and had never had a day's sickness
+in their lives, the answer was always the same-- "I'm po'ly, thank
+God."
+
+"Well, Uncle Bob, what is it now?" asked Major Waldron. "The little
+negroes been bothering your splits again?"
+
+"Dey's all de time at dat, marster, an' dey gwine git hu't, mun, ef
+dey fool long o' me; but den dat ain't wat I come fur dis time. I come
+fur ter hab er talk wid yer, sar, ef yer kin spar de ole nigger de
+time."
+
+"There's plenty of time, Uncle Bob; take a seat, then, if we are to
+have a talk;" and Major Waldron lit his cigar, and leaned back, while
+Uncle Bob seated himself on a low chair, and said:
+
+"Marster, I come ter ax yer wat'll yer take fur dat little boy yer
+bought fum de specerlaters?"
+
+"Ann's little boy?" asked his master; "why, I would not sell him at
+all. I only bought him because his mother was dying of exposure and
+fatigue, and I wanted to relieve her mind of anxiety on his account, I
+would certainly never sell her child away from her,"
+
+"Yes, sar, dat's so," replied the old man; "but den my min', hit's
+made up. I've laid me up er little money fum time ter time, wen I'd be
+er doct'in uv hosses an' mules an' men'-in' cheers, an' all sich ez
+dat; de folks dey pays me lib'ul; an', let erlone dat, I'm done mighty
+well wid my taters an' goobers, er sellin' uv 'em ter de steamboat
+han's, wat takes 'em ter de town, an' 'sposes uv 'em. So I'm got er
+right smart chance uv money laid up, sar; an' now I wants ter buy me
+er nigger, same ez white folks, fur ter wait on me an' bresh my coat
+an' drive my kerridge; an' I 'lowed ef yer'd sell de little white
+nigger, I'd buy 'im," and Uncle Bob chuckled and laughed.
+
+"Why, Bob, I believe you are crazy," said his master, "or drunk."
+
+"I ain't neder one, marster; but den I'm er jokin' too much, mo'n de
+'lenity uv de cazhun inquires, an' now I'll splain de facks, sar."
+
+And Uncle Rob related Ann's story to his master, and wound up by
+saying:
+
+"An' now, marster, my min', hit's made up. I wants ter buy de little
+chap, an' give 'im ter his mammy, de one wat God give 'im to. Hit'll
+go mighty hard wid me ter part fum all dat money, caze I ben years pun
+top er years er layin' uv it up, an' hit's er mighty, cumfut ter me er
+countin' an' er jinglin' uv it; but hit ain't doin' nobody no good er
+buried in de groun', an' I don't special need it myse'f, caze you
+gives me my cloes, an' my shoes, an' my eatin's, an' my backer, an' my
+wisky, an' I ain't got no cazhun fur ter spen' it; an' let erlone dat,
+I can't stay hyear fureber, er countin' an' er jinglin' dat money, wen
+de angel soun' dat horn, de ole nigger he's got ter go; he's boun' fur
+ter be dar! de money can't hol' 'im! De Lord, he ain't gwine ter say,
+'Scuze dat nigger, caze he got money piled up; lef 'im erlone, fur ter
+count dat gol' an' silver.' No, sar! But, marster, maybe in de
+jedgmun' day, wen Ole Bob is er stan'in' fo' de Lord wid his knees er
+trim'lin', an' de angel fotches out dat book er hisn, and' de Lord
+tell 'im fur ter read wat he writ gins 'im, an' de angel he 'gin ter
+read how de ole nigger drunk too much wisky, how he stoled
+watermillions in de night, how he cussed, how he axed too much fur
+doct'in' uv hosses, an' wen he wuz men'in' cheers, how he wouldn't
+men' 'em strong, so's he'd git ter men' 'em ergin some time; an' den'
+wen he read all dat an' shet de book, maybe de Lord he'll say, 'Well,
+he's er pow'ful sinful nigger, but den he tuck his money, he did, an'
+buy'd de little baby fur ter give 'im ter his mammy, an' I sha'n't be
+too hard on' im.
+
+"Maybe he'll say dat, an' den ergin maybe he won't. Maybe he'll punish
+de ole nigger ter de full stent uv his 'greshuns; an' den, ergin,
+maybe he'll let him off light; but dat ain't neder hyear nur dar.
+What'll yer take fur de baby, caze my min' hit's made up?"
+
+"And mine is too, Uncle Bob," said his master, rising, and grasping in
+his the big black hand. "Mine is too. I will give Ann her freedom and
+her baby, and the same amount of money that you give her; that will
+take her to her husband's relatives, and she can die happy, knowing
+that her baby will be taken care of."
+
+The next day Uncle Bob dug up his money, and the bag was found to
+contain three hundred dollars.
+
+His master put with it a check for the same amount, and sent him into
+the laundry to tell Ann of her good fortune.
+
+The poor woman was overcome with happiness and gratitude, and,
+throwing her arms around Uncle Bob, she sobbed and cried on his
+shoulder.
+
+She wrote at once to her husband's relatives, and a few weeks after
+Major Waldron took her to New Orleans, had the requisite papers drawn
+up for her freedom, and accompanied her on board of a vessel bound for
+New York; and then, paying her passage himself, so that she might keep
+her money for future emergencies, he bade adieu to the only slaves he
+ever bought.
+
+  CHAPTER IX
+
+ AUNT EDY'S STORY
+
+AUNT Edy was the principal laundress, and a great favorite she was
+with the little girls. She was never too busy to do up a doll's frock
+or apron, and was always glad when she could amuse and entertain them.
+One evening Dumps and Tot stole off from Mammy, and ran as fast as
+they could clip it to the laundry, with a whole armful of their
+dollies' clothes, to get Aunt Edy to let them "iun des er 'ittle," as
+Tot said.
+
+"Lemme see wat yer got," said Aunt Edy; and they spread out on the
+table garments of worsted and silk and muslin and lace and tarlatan
+and calico and homespun, just whatever their little hands had been
+able to gather up.
+
+"Lor', chil'en, ef yer washes deze fine close yer'll ruint 'em," said
+Aunt Edy, examining the bundles laid out; "de suds'll tuck all de
+color out'n 'em; s'posin' yer jes press 'em out on de little stool
+ober dar wid er nice cole iun,"
+
+"Yes, that's the very thing," said Dumps; and Aunt Edy folded some
+towels, and laid them on the little stools, and gave each of the
+children a cold iron. And, kneeling down, so as to get at their work
+conveniently, the little girls were soon busy smoothing and pressing
+the things they had brought.
+
+"Aunt Edy," said Dumps, presently, "could'n yer tell us 'bout Po'
+Nancy Jane O?"
+
+"Dar now!" exclaimed Aunt Edy; "dem chil'en nuber is tierd er hyearn'
+dat tale; pyears like dey like hit mo' an' mo' eb'y time dey hyears
+hit;" and she laughed slyly, for she was the only one on the
+plantation who knew about "Po' Nancy Jane O," and she was pleased
+because it was such a favorite story with the children.
+
+"Once pun er time," she began, "dar wuz er bird name' Nancy Jane O,
+an' she wuz guv up ter be de swif'es'-fly'n thing dar wuz in de a'r.
+Well, at dat time de king uv all de fishes an' birds, an' all de
+little beas'es, like snakes an' frogs an' wums an' tarrypins an' bugs,
+an' all sich ez dat, he wur er mole dat year! an' he wuz blin' in bof
+'is eyes, jes same like any udder mole; an', somehow, he had hyear
+some way dat dar wuz er little bit er stone name' de gol'-stone, way
+off fum dar, in er muddy crick, an' ef'n he could git dat stone, an'
+hol' it in his mouf, he could see same ez anybody.
+
+"Den he 'gun ter stedy how wuz he fur ter git dat stone.
+
+"He stedded an' he stedded, an' pyeard like de mo' he stedded de mo'
+he couldn' fix no way fur ter git it. He knowed he wuz blin', an' he
+knowed he trab'l so slow dat he 'lowed 'twould be years pun top er
+years befo' he'd git ter de crick, an' so he made up in 'is min' dat
+he'd let somebody git it fur 'im. Den, bein' ez he wuz de king, an'
+could grant any kin' er wush, he sont all roun' thu de kentry
+eb'ywhar, an' 'lowed dat any bird or fish, or any kin' er little beas'
+dat 'oud fotch 'im dat stone, he'd grant 'em de deares' wush er dey
+hearts.
+
+"Well, mun, in er few days de whole yearth wuz er movin'; eb'ything
+dar wuz in de lan' wuz er gwine.
+
+"Some wuz er hoppin' an' some wuz er crawlin' an' some wuz er flyin',
+jes 'cord'n to dey natur'; de birds dey 'lowed ter git dar fus', on
+'count er fly'n so fas'; but den de little stone wuz in de water, an'
+dey'd hatter wait till de crick run down, so 'twuz jes 'bout broad ez
+'twuz long.
+
+"Well, wile dey wuz all er gwine, an, de birds wuz in de lead, one day
+dey hyeard sump'n gwine f-l-u-shsh-- f-l-u-shsh-- an' sump'n streaked
+by like lightnin', and dey look way erhead, dey did, an' dey seed
+Nancy Jane O. Den dey hearts 'gun ter sink, an' dey gin right up, caze
+dey knowed she'd out-fly eb'ything on de road. An' by'mby de crow, wat
+wuz allers er cunin' bird, sez, 'I tell yer wat we'll do; we'll all
+gin er feas',' sezee, 'an' git Nancy Jane O ter come, an' den we'll
+all club togedder an' tie her,' sezee.
+
+"Dat took dey fancy, an' dey sont de lark on erhead fur ter catch up
+wid Nancy Jane O, an' ter ax' er ter de feas'. Well, mun, de lark he
+nearly kill hese'f er flyin'. He flew an' he flew an' he flew, but
+pyear'd like de fas'er he went de furder erhead wuz Nancy Jane O.
+
+"But Nancy Jane O, bein' so fur er start uv all de res', an' not er
+dreamin' 'bout no kin' er develment, she 'lowed she'd stop an' take er
+nap, an' so de lark he come up wid 'er, wile she wuz er set'n on er
+sweet-gum lim', wid 'er head un'er 'er wing. Den de lark spoke up, an'
+sezee, 'Sis Nancy Jane O,' sezee, 'we birds is gwinter gin er bug
+feas', caze we'll be sho' ter win de race anyhow, an' bein' ez we've
+flew'd so long an' so fur, wy we're gwine ter stop an' res' er spell,
+an' gin er feas'. An' Brer Crow he 'lowed 'twouldn' be no feas' 'tall
+les'n you could be dar; so dey sont me on ter tell yer to hol' up tell
+dey come: dey's done got seeds an' bugs an' wums, an' Brer Crow he's
+gwine ter furnish de corn.'
+
+"Nancy Jane O she 'lowed ter herse'f she could soon git erhead uv 'em
+ergin, so she 'greed ter wait; an' by'mby hyear day come er flyin'.
+An' de nex' day dey gin de feas'; an' wile Nancy Jane O wuz er eatin'
+an' er stuffun' herse'f wid wums an' seeds, an' one thing er nudder,
+de blue jay he slope up behin' 'er, an' tied 'er fas' ter er little
+bush. An' dey all laft an' flopped dey wings; an' sez dey, 'Good-bye
+ter yer, Sis Nancy Jane O. I hope yer'll enjoy yerse'f,' sez dey; an'
+den dey riz up an' stretched out dey wings, an' away dey flewed.
+
+"Wen Po' Nancy Jane O seed de trick wat dey played her, she couldn'
+hardly stan' still, she wuz so mad; an' she pulled an' she jerked an'
+she stretched ter git er loose, but de string wuz so strong, an' de
+bush wuz so fum, she wuz jes er was'en 'er strengt'. An' den she sot
+down, an' she 'gun ter cry ter herse'f, an' ter sing,
+
+  "'Please on-tie, please on-tie Po' Nancy Jane O!
+    Please on-tie, please on-tie Po' Nancy Jane O!'
+
+An' atter er wile hyear come de ole bullfrog Pigunawaya. He sez ter
+hisse'f, sezee, 'Wat's dat I hyear? Den he lis'en, an' he hyear sump'n
+gwine,
+
+  "'Please on-tie, please on-tie Po' Nancy Jane O!'
+
+an' he went whar he hyeard de soun', an' dar wuz de po' bird layin'
+down all tied ter de bush.
+
+"'Umph!' says Pigunawaya, sezee, 'ain't dis Nancy Jane O, de
+swif'es'-flyin' bird dey is?' sezee; 'wat ail 'long yer, chile? wat
+yer cryin' 'bout?' An' atter Nancy Jane O she up an' tol' 'im, den de
+frog sez:
+
+"'Now look er yer; I wuz er gwine myse'f ter see ef'n I could'n git
+dat gol'-stone; hit's true I don't stan' much showin' 'long o' birds,
+but den ef'n eber I gits dar, wy I kin jes jump right in an' fotch up
+de stone wile de birds is er waitin' fur de crick ter run down. An'
+now, s'posin' I wuz ter ontie yer, Nancy Jane O, could yer tuck me on
+yer back an' cyar me ter de crick? an' den we'd hab de sho' thing on
+de gol'-stone, caze soon's eber we git dar, I'll git it, an' we'll
+cyar it bof tergedder ter de king, an' den we'll bof git de deares'
+wush uv our hearts. Now wat yer say? speak yer min'. Ef'n yer able an'
+willin' ter tote me fum hyear ter de crick, I'll ontie yer; ef'n yer
+ain't, den far yer well, caze I mus' be er gittin' erlong.'
+
+"Well, Nancy Jane O, she stedded an' stedded in her min', an' by'mby
+she sez, 'Brer Frog,' sez she, 'I b'lieve I'll try yer; ontie me,' sez
+she, 'an' git on, an' I'll tuck yer ter de crick.' Den de frog he clum
+on her back an' ontied her, an' she flopped her wings an' started off.
+Hit wuz mighty hard flyin' wid dat big frog on her back; but Nancy
+Jane O wuz er flyer, mun, yer hyeard me! an' she jes lit right out,
+an' she flew an' she flew, an' atter er wile she got in sight er de
+birds, an' dey looked, an' dey see her comin', an' den dey 'gun ter
+holler,
+
+  "'Who on-tied, who on-tied Po' Nancy Jane O?'
+
+An' de frog he holler back,
+
+  "'O Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!'
+
+"Den, gemmun, yer oughten seed dat race; dem birds dey done dey leb'l
+bes', but Nancy Jane O, spite er all dey could do, she gaint on 'em,
+an' ole Pigunawaya he sot up dar, an' he kep' er urg'n an' er urg'n
+Nancy Jane O.
+
+"'Dat's you!' sezee; 'git erhead!' sezee. 'Now we're gwine it!' sezee;
+an' pres'nly Nancy Jane O shot erhead clean befo' all de res', an' wen
+de birds dey seed dat de race wuz los', den dey all 'gun ter holler,
+
+  "'Who on-tied, who on-tied Po' Nancy Jane O?'
+
+An' de frog, he turnt roun,' he did, an' he wave his han' roun' his
+head, an' he holler back,
+
+  "'Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!'
+
+"Atter Nancy Jane O got erhead er de birds, den de hardes' flyin' wuz
+thu wid; so she jes went 'long, an' went 'long, kin' er easy like,
+tell she got ter de stone; an' she lit on er' simmon-bush close ter de
+crick, an' Pigunawaya he slipt off, he did, an' he hist up his feet,
+an' he gin er jump, kerchug he went down inter de water; an' by'mby
+hyear he come wid de stone in his mouf. Den he mount on Nancy Jane O,
+he did; an', mun, she wuz so proud, she an' de frog bof, tell dey flew
+all roun' an' roun', an' Nancy Jane O, she 'gun ter sing,
+
+  "'Who on-tied, who on-tied Po' Nancy Jane O?'
+
+An' de frog he ans'er back,
+
+  "'Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!'
+
+"An' wile dey wuz er singing' an' er j'yin' uv deyselves, hyear come
+de birds; an' de frog he felt so big, caze he'd got de stone, tell he
+stood up on Nancy Jane O's back, he did, an' he tuck'n shuck de stone
+at de birds, an' holler at 'em,
+
+  "'O Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hoo-hooo!'
+
+An' jes ez he said dat, he felt hisse'f slippin', an' dat made him
+clutch on ter Po' Nancy Jane O, an' down dey bof' went tergedder
+kersplash, right inter de crick.
+
+"De frog he fell slap on ter er big rock, an' bust his head all ter
+pieces; an' Po' Nancy Jane O sunk down in de water an' got drownded;
+an' dat's de een'."
+
+"Did the king get the stone, Aunt Edy?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Wy no, chile; don't yer know de mole he's blin' tell yit? ef'n he
+could er got dat stone, he could er seen out'n his eyes befo' now. But
+I ain't got no time ter fool 'long er you chil'en. I mus' git
+marster's shuts done, I mus'."
+
+And Aunt Edy turned to her ironing-table, as if she didn't care for
+company; and Dumps and Tot, seeing that she was tired of them, went
+back to the house, Tot singing,
+
+  "Who on-tied, who on-tied Po' Nanty Dane O?"
+
+and Dumps answering back,
+
+  "Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!"
+
+  CHAPTER X
+
+ PLANTATION GAMES
+
+"MAMMY, the quarter folks are goin' ter play to-night; can't we go
+look at 'em?" pleaded Diddie one Saturday evening, as Mammy was busy
+sorting out the children's clothes and putting them away.
+
+"Yer allers want ter be 'long er dem quarter-folks," said Mammy. "Dem
+ain't de 'soshuts fur you chil'en."
+
+"We don't want ter 'soshate with 'em, Mammy; we only want ter look at
+'em play 'Monkey Moshuns' and 'Lipto' and 'The Lady You Like Best,'
+and hear Jim pick the banjo, and see 'em dance; can't we go? PLEASE!
+It's warm weather now, an' er moonshiny night; can't we go?"
+
+And Diddie placed one arm around Mammy's neck, and laid the other
+little hand caressingly on her cheek; and Mammy, after much
+persuasion, agreed to take them, if they would come home quietly when
+she wanted them to.
+
+As soon as the little girls had had their supper, they set out for the
+quarters. Dilsey and Chris and Riar, of course, accompanied them,
+though Chris had had some difficulty in joining the party. She had
+come to grief about her quilt patching, having sewed the squares
+together in such a way that the corners wouldn't hit, and Mammy had
+made her rip it all out and sew it over again, and had boxed her
+soundly, and now said she shouldn't go with the others to the
+quarters; but here Dumps interfered, and said Mammy shouldn't be "all
+time 'posin' on Chris," and she went down to see her father about it,
+who interceded with Mammy so effectually that, when the little folks
+started off, Chris was with them. When they got to the open space back
+of Aunt Nancy's cabin, and which was called "de play-groun'," they
+found that a bright fire of light-wood knots had been kindled to give
+a light, and a large pile of pine-knots and dried branches of trees
+was lying near for the purpose of keeping it up. Aunt Nancy had a
+bench moved out of her cabin for "Marster's chil'en" to sit on, while
+all of the little negroes squatted around on the ground to look on.
+These games were confined to the young men and women, and the negro
+children were not allowed to participate.
+
+Mammy, seeing that the children were safe and in good hands, repaired
+to "Sis Haly's house," where "de chu'ch membahs" had assembled for a
+prayer-meeting.
+
+Soon after the children had taken their seats, the young folks came
+out on the playground for a game of Monkey Motions.
+
+They all joined hands, and made a ring around one who stood in the
+middle, and then began to dance around in a circle, singing,
+
+  "I ac' monkey moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' monkey moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'-- I ac' jes like dem monkeys
+  ac'.
+  "I ac' gemmun moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' gemmun moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'-- I ac' jes like dem gemmums
+  ac'.
+  "I ac' lady moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' lady moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'-- I ac' jes like dem ladies ac'.
+  "I ac' chil'en moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' chil'en moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'
+   I ac' jes like dem chil'ens ac'.
+  "I ac' preacher moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' preacher moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'-- I ac' jes like dem preachers
+  ac'.
+  "I ac' nigger moshuns, too-re-loo;
+   I ac' nigger moshuns, so I do;
+   I ac' 'em well, an' dat's er fac'-- I ac' jes like dem niggers
+  ac'."
+
+The song had a lively air, and Jim picked the accompaniment on the
+banjo. Many of the negroes had good voices, and the singing was indeed
+excellent.
+
+While the dancers were singing the first verse, "I ac' monkey
+moshuns," the one in the middle would screw up his face and hump his
+shoulders in the most grotesque manner, to represent a monkey.
+
+When they sang "I ac' gemmun moshuns," he would stick his hat on one
+side of his head, take a walking-cane in his hand, and strut back and
+forth, to represent a gentleman.
+
+In the "lady moshuns," he would take little mincing steps, and toss
+his head from side to side, and pretend to be fanning with his hand.
+
+"I ac' chil'en moshuns" was portrayed by his pouting out his lips and
+twirling his thumbs, or giggling or crying.
+
+When they sang "I ac' preacher moshuns," he straightened himself back,
+and began to "lay off" his hands in the most extravagant gestures.
+
+"I ac' nigger moshuns" was represented by scratching his head, or by
+bending over and pretending to be picking cotton or hoeing.
+
+The representation of the different motions was left entirely to the
+taste and ingenuity of the actor, though it was the rule of the game
+that no two people should represent the same character in the same
+way. If one acted the lady by a mincing walk, the next one must devise
+some other manner of portraying her, such as sewing, or playing on an
+imaginary piano, or giving orders to servants, or any thing that his
+fancy would suggest.
+
+The middle man or woman was always selected for his or her skill in
+taking off the different characters; and when they were clever at it,
+the game was very amusing to a spectator.
+
+After one or two games of "Monkey Moshuns," some one proposed they
+should play "Lipto," which was readily acceded to.
+
+All joined hands, and formed a ring around one in the middle, as
+before, and danced around, singing,
+
+  "Lipto, lipto, jine de ring;
+   Lipto, lipto, dance an' sing;
+   Dance an' sing, an' laugh an' play,
+   Fur dis is now er halerday."
+
+Then, letting loose hands, they would all wheel around three times,
+singing,
+
+  "Turn erroun' an' roun' an' roun';"
+
+then they would clap their hands, singing,
+
+  "Clap yer han's, an' make' em soun';"
+
+then they would bow their heads, singing,
+
+  "Bow yer heads, an' bow 'em low;"
+
+then, joining hands again, they would dance around, singing,
+
+  "All jine han's, an' hyear we go."
+
+And now the dancers would drop hands once more, and go to patting,
+while one of the men would step out with a branch of honeysuckle or
+yellow jessamine, or something twined to form a wreath, or a paper cap
+would answer, or even one of the boys' hats-- anything that would
+serve for a crown; then he would sing,
+
+  "Lipto, lipto-- fi-yi-yi;
+   Lipto, lipto, hyear am I,
+   Er holdin' uv dis goldin' crown,
+   An' I choose my gal fur ter dance me down."
+
+Then he must place the crown on the head of any girl he chooses, and
+she must step out and dance with him, or, as they expressed it, "set
+to him" (while all the rest patted), until one or the other "broke
+down," when the man stepped back in the ring, leaving the girl in the
+middle, then they all joined hands, and began the game over again,
+going through with the wheeling around and clapping of hands and the
+bowing of heads just as before; after which the girl would choose her
+partner for a "set to," the song being the same that was sung by the
+man, with the exception of the last line, which was changed to
+
+  "An' I choose my man fur ter dance me down."
+
+"Lipto" was followed by "De One I Like de Bes'," which was a kissing
+game, and gave rise to much merriment. It was played, as the others
+were, by the dancers joining hands and forming a ring, with some one
+in the middle, and singing,
+
+  "Now while we all will dance an' sing,
+   O choose er partner fum de ring;
+   O choose de lady you like bes';
+   O pick her out fum all de res,'
+   Fur her hansum face an' figur neat;
+   O pick her out ter kiss her sweet.
+   O walk wid her erroun' an' roun';
+   O kneel wid her upon de groun';
+   O kiss her once, an' one time mo';
+   O kiss her sweet, an' let her go.
+   O lif' her up fum off de groun',
+   An' all jine han's erroun' an' roun',
+   An' while we all will dance an' sing,
+   O choose er partner fum de ring."
+
+At the words "choose de lady you like bes'," the middle man must make
+his selection, and, giving her his hand, lead her out of the ring. At
+the words "walk wid her erroun' an' roun'," he offers her his arm, and
+they promenade; at the words "kneel wid her upon de groun'," both
+kneel; when they sing "kiss her once," he kisses her; and at the words
+"one time mo," the kiss is repeated; and when the dancers sing "lif'
+her up fum off de groun'," he assists her to rise; and when they sing
+"all jine han's erroun' an' roun'," he steps back into the ring, and
+the girl must make a choice, the dancers singing, "O choose de gemmun
+you like bes';" and then the promenading and kneeling and kissing were
+all gone through with again.
+
+Some of the girls were great favorites, and were chosen frequently;
+while others not so popular would perhaps not be in the middle during
+the game.
+
+"De One I Like de Bes'" was a favorite play, and the young folks kept
+it up for some time, until some one suggested sending for "Uncle
+Sambo" and his fiddle, and turning it into a sure-enough dance. Uncle
+Sambo was very accommodating, and soon made his appearance, then
+partners were taken, and an Old Virginia reel formed. The tune that
+they danced by was "Cotton-eyed Joe," and, the words being familiar to
+all of them as they danced they sang,
+
+  "Cotton-eyed Joe, Cotton-eyed Joe,
+   What did make you sarve me so,
+   Fur ter take my gal erway fum me,
+   An' cyar her plum ter Tennessee?
+   Ef it hadn't ben fur Cotton-eyed Joe,
+   I'd er been married long ergo.
+  "His eyes wuz crossed, an' his nose wuz flat,
+   An' his teef wuz out, but wat uv dat?
+   Fur he wuz tall, an' he wuz slim,
+   An' so my gal she follered him.
+   Ef it hadn't ben fur Cotton-eyed Joe,
+   I'd er been married long ergo.
+  "No gal so hansum could be foun',
+   Not in all dis country roun',
+   Wid her kinky head, an' her eyes so bright,
+   Wid her lips so red an' her teef so white.
+   Ef it hadn't ben fur Cotton-eyed Joe,
+   I'd been married long ergo.
+  "An' I loved dat gal wid all my heart,
+   An' she swo' fum me she'd never part;
+   But den wid Joe she runned away,
+   An' lef' me hyear fur ter weep all day.
+  "O Cotton-eyed Joe, O Cotton-eyed Joe,
+   What did make you sarve me so?
+   O Joe, ef it hadn't er ben fur you,
+   I'd er married dat gal fur true."
+
+And what with Uncle Sambo's fiddle and Jim's banjo and all of those
+fresh, happy young voices, the music was enough to make even the
+church members want to dance.
+
+The children enjoyed the dancing even more than they had the playing,
+and Diddie and Dumps and Tot and all of the little darkies were
+patting their hands and singing "Cotton-eyed Joe" at the very top of
+their voices, when Mammy appeared upon the scene, and said it was time
+to go home.
+
+"No, Mammy," urged Dumps; "we ain't er goin' ter; we want ter sing
+'Cotton-eyed Joe," hit ain't late."
+
+"Umph-humph! dat's jes wat I 'lowed," said Mammy. "I 'lowed yer
+wouldn't be willin' fur ter go, er set'n' hyear an' er patt'n' yer
+han's same ez niggers, an' er singin' uv reel chunes; I dunno wat
+makes you chil'en so onstrep'rous."
+
+"Yes, Dumps, you know we promised," said Diddie, "and so we must go
+when Mammy tells us."
+
+Dumps, finding herself overruled, had to yield, and they all went back
+to the house, talking very animatedly of the quarter folks and their
+plays and dances.
+
+  CHAPTER XI
+
+ DIDDIE IN TROUBLE
+
+DIDDIE was generally a very good and studious little girl, and
+therefore it was a matter of surprise to everybody when Miss Carrie
+came down to dinner one day without her, and, in answer to Major
+Waldron's inquiry concerning her, replied that Diddie had been so
+wayward that she had been forced to keep her in, and that she was not
+to have any dinner.
+
+Neither Major nor Mrs. Waldron ever interfered with Miss Carrie's
+management; so the family sat down to the meal, leaving the little
+girl in the schoolroom.
+
+Dumps and Tot, however, were very indignant, and ate but little
+dinner; and, as soon as their mamma excused them, they ran right to
+the nursery to tell Mammy about it. They found her overhauling a trunk
+of old clothes, with a view of giving them out to such of the little
+negroes as they would fit; but she dropped everything after Dumps had
+stated the case, and at once began to expatiate on the tyranny of
+teachers in general, and of Miss Carrie in particular.
+
+"I know'd how 'twould be," she said, "wen marster fotch her hyear; she
+got too much white in her eye to suit me, er shettin' my chile up, an'
+er starvin' uv her; I an't got no 'pinion uv po' white folks, nohow."
+
+"Is Miss Carrie po' white folks, Mammy?" asked Dumps, in horror, for
+she had been taught by Mammy and Aunt Milly both that the lowest
+classes of persons in the world were "po' white folks" and "free
+niggers."
+
+"She ain't no rich white folks," answered Mammy, evasively; "caze efn
+she wuz, she wouldn't be teachin' school fur er livin'; an' den ergin,
+efn she's so mighty rich, whar's her niggers? I neber seed 'em. An',
+let erlone dat, I ain't neber hyeard uv 'em yit;" for Mammy could not
+conceive of a person's being rich without niggers.
+
+"But, wedder she's rich or po'," continued the old lady, "she ain't no
+bizness er shettin' up my chile; an' marster he oughtn't ter 'low it."
+
+And Mammy resumed her work, but all the time grumbling, and muttering
+something about "ole maids" and "po' white folks."
+
+"I don't like her, nohow," said Dumps, "an' I'm glad me an' Tot's too
+little ter go ter school; I don't want never to learn to read all my
+life. An', Mammy, can't you go an' turn Diddie erloose?"
+
+"No, I can't," answered Mammy. "Yer pa don't 'low me fur ter do it; he
+won't do it hisse'f, an' he won't let dem do it wat wants ter. I dunno
+wat's gittin' in 'im myse'f. But, you chil'en, put on yer bunnits, an'
+run an' play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis' uv cloes; an' you
+little niggers, go wid 'em, an' tuck cyar uv 'em; an' ef dem chil'en
+git hut, yer'll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer'd better keep em off'n
+seesaws an' all sich ez dat."
+
+Dumps and Tot, attended by their little maids, went out in the yard at
+Mammy's bidding, but not to play; their hearts were too heavy about
+poor little Diddie, and the little negroes were no less grieved than
+they were, so they all held a consultation as to what they should do.
+
+"Le's go 'roun' ter de schoolroom winder, an' talk ter her," said
+Dilsey. And accordingly, repaired to the back of the house, and took
+their stand under the schoolroom window. The schoolroom was on the
+first floor, but the house was raised some distance from the ground by
+means of stone pillars, so none of the children were tall enough to
+see into the room.
+
+Dilsey called Diddie softly, and the little girl appeared at the
+window.
+
+"Have you said your lesson yet?" asked Dumps.
+
+"No, an' I ain't ergoin' to, neither," answered Diddie.
+
+"An' yer ain't had yer dinner, nuther, is yer, Miss Diddie?" asked
+Dilsey.
+
+"No; but I don't care 'bout that; I sha'n't say my lesson not ef she
+starves me clean ter death."
+
+At this dismal prospect, the tears sprang to Tot's eyes, and saying,
+"I'll dit it, Diddie; don' yer min', I'll dit it," she ran as fast as
+her little feet could carry her to the kitchen, and told Aunt Mary,
+the cook, that "Diddie is sut up; dey lock her all up in de woom, an'
+s'e neber had no dinner, an' s'e's starve mos' ter def. Miss Tawwy
+done it, and s'e's des ez mean!" Then, putting her chubby little arms
+around Aunt Mary's neck, she added, "Please sen' Diddie some dinner."
+
+And Aunt Mary, who loved the children, rose from the low chair on
+which she was sitting to eat her own dinner, and, picking out a nice
+piece of fried chicken and a baked sweet potato, with a piece of bread
+and a good slice of ginger pudding, she put them on a plate for the
+child.
+
+Now it so happened that Douglas, the head dining-room servant, was
+also in the kitchen eating his dinner, and, being exceedingly fond of
+Tot, he told her to wait a moment, and he would get her something from
+the house. So, getting the keys from Aunt Delia, the housekeeper, on
+pretence of putting away something, he buttered two or three slices of
+light bread, and spread them with jam, and, putting with them some
+thin chips of cold ham and several slices of cake, he carried them
+back to the kitchen as an addition to Diddie's dinner.
+
+Tot was delighted, and walked very carefully with the plate until she
+joined the little group waiting under the window, when she called out,
+joyfully,
+
+"Hyear 'tis, Diddie! 'tis des de bes'es kine er dinner!"
+
+And now the trouble was how to get it up to Diddie.
+
+"I tell yer," said Chris; "me 'n Dilsey'll fotch de step-ladder wat
+Uncle Douglas washes de winders wid."
+
+No sooner said than done, and in a few moments the step-ladder was
+placed against the house, and Dilsey prepared to mount it with the
+plate in her hand.
+
+But just at this juncture Diddie decided that she would make good her
+escape, and, to the great delight of the children, she climbed out of
+the window, and descended the ladder, and soon stood safe among them
+on the ground.
+
+Then, taking the dinner with them, they ran as fast as they could to
+the grove, where they came to a halt on the ditch bank, and Diddie
+seated herself on a root of a tree to eat her dinner, while Dumps and
+Tot watched the little negroes wade up and down the ditch. The water
+was very clear, and not quite knee-deep, and the temptation was too
+great to withstand; so the little girls took off their shoes and
+stockings, and were soon wading too.
+
+When Diddie had finished her dinner, she joined them; and such a merry
+time as they had, burying their little naked feet in the sand, and
+splashing the water against each other!
+
+"I tell yer, Diddie," said Dumps, "I don't b'lieve nuthin' 'bout bad
+little girls gittin' hurt, an' not havin' no fun when they runs away,
+an' don't min' nobody. I b'lieve Mammy jes makes that up ter skyeer
+us."
+
+"I don't know," replied Diddie; "you 'member the time' bout Ole
+Billy?"
+
+"Oh, I ain't er countin' him," said Dumps; "I ain't er countin' no
+sheeps; I'm jes er talkin' 'bout ditches an' things."
+
+And just then the little girls heard some one singing,
+
+  "De jay bird died wid de hookin'-coff,
+   Oh, ladies, ain't yer sorry?"
+
+and Uncle Snake-bit Bob came up the ditch bank with an armful of
+white-oak splits.
+
+"Yer'd better git outn dat water," he called, as soon as he saw the
+children. "Yer'll all be havin' de croup nex'. Git out, I tell yer!
+Efn yer don't, I gwine straight an' tell yer pa.
+
+It needed no second bidding, and the little girls scrambled up the
+bank, and drying their feet as best they could upon their skirts, they
+put on their shoes and stockings.
+
+"What are you doin', Uncle Bob?" called Diddie.
+
+"I'm jes er cuttin' me er few willers fur ter make baskit-handles
+outn."
+
+"Can't we come an' look at yer?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Yes, honey, efn yer wants ter," replied Uncle Bob, mightily pleased.
+"You're all pow'ful fon' er dis ole nigger; you're allers wantin' ter
+be roun' him."
+
+"It's 'cause you always tell us tales, an' don't quar'l with us,"
+replied Diddie, as the children drew near the old man, and watched him
+cut the long willow branches.
+
+"Uncle Bob," asked Dumps, "what was that you was singin' 'bout the jay
+bird?"
+
+"Lor', honey, hit wuz jes 'boutn 'im dyin' wid de hookin'-coff; but
+yer better lef' dem jay birds erlone; yer needn' be er wantin' ter
+hyear boutn 'em."
+
+"Why, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"Caze, honey, dem jay birds dey cyars news ter de deb'l, dey do an'
+yer better not fool 'long 'em."
+
+"Do they tell him everything?" asked Diddie, in some solicitude.
+
+"Dat dey do! Dey tells 'im eb'ything dey see you do wat ain't right;
+dey cyars hit right erlong ter de deb'l."
+
+"Uncle Bob," said Dumps, thoughtfully, "s'posin' they wuz some little
+girls l-o-n-g time ergo what stole ernuther little girl outn the
+winder, an' then run'd erway, an' waded in er ditch, what they Mammy
+never would let 'em; efn er jay bird would see 'em, would he tell the
+deb'l nuthin erbout it?"
+
+"Lor', honey, dat 'ud be jes nuts fur 'im; he'd light right out wid
+it; an' he wouldn't was'e no time, nuther, he'd be so fyeard he'd
+furgit part'n it."
+
+"I don't see none 'bout hyear," said Dumps, looking anxiously up at
+the trees. "They don't stay 'bout hyear much does they, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"I seed one er sittin' on dat sweet-gum dar ez I come up de ditch,"
+said Uncle Bob. "He had his head turnt one side, he did, er lookin'
+mighty hard at you chil'en, an' I 'lowed ter myse'f now I won'er wat
+is he er watchin' dem chil'en fur? but, den, I knowed you chil'en
+wouldn't do nuffin wrong, an' I knowed he wouldn't have nuffin fur ter
+tell."
+
+"Don't he never make up things an' tell 'em?" asked Dumps.
+
+"I ain't neber hyeard boutn dat," said the old man. "Efn he do, or efn
+he don't, I can't say, caze I ain't neber hyeard; but de bes' way is
+fur ter keep 'way fum 'em."
+
+"Well, I bet he do," said Dumps. "I jes bet he tells M-O-O-O-R-E
+S-T-O-R-I-E-S than anybody. An', Uncle Bob, efn he tells the deb'l
+sump'n 'boutn three little white girls an' three little niggers
+runnin' erway fum they teacher an' wadin' in er ditch, then I jes
+b'lieve he made it up! Now that's jes what I' b'lieve; an' can't you
+tell the deb'l so, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"Who? Me? Umph, umph! yer talkin' ter de wrong nigger now, chile! I
+don't hab nuffin te do wid 'im mysef! I'se er God-fyearn nigger, I is;
+an', let erlone dat, I keeps erway fum dem jay birds. Didn' yer neber
+hyear wat er trick he played de woodpecker?"
+
+"No, Uncle Bob," answered Diddie; "what did he do to him?"
+
+"Ain't yer neber hyeard how come de wood-pecker's head ter be red, an'
+wat makes de robin hab er red bres'?"
+
+"Oh, I know 'bout the robin's breast," said Diddie. "When the Saviour
+was on the cross, an' the wicked men had put er crown of thorns on
+him, an' his forehead was all scratched up an' bleedin', er little
+robin was sittin' on er tree lookin' at him; an' he felt so sorry
+'bout it till he flew down, an' tried to pick the thorns out of the
+crown; an' while he was pullin' at 'em, one of 'em run in his breast,
+an' made the blood come, an' ever since that the robin's breast has
+been red."
+
+"Well, I dunno," said the old man, thoughtfully, scratching his head;
+"I dunno, dat mout be de way; I neber hyeard it, do; but den I ain't
+sayin' tain't true, caze hit mout be de way; an' wat I'm er stan'in'
+by is dis, dat dat ain't de way I hyeard hit."
+
+"Tell us how you heard it, Uncle Bob," asked Diddie.
+
+"Well, hit all come 'long o' de jay bird," said Uncle Bob. "An' efn
+yer got time fur ter go 'long o' me ter de shop, an' sot dar wile I
+plats on dese baskits fur de oberseer's wife, I'll tell jes wat I
+hyear 'boutn hit."
+
+Of course they had plenty of time, and they all followed him to the
+shop, where he turned some baskets bottomside up for seats for the
+children, and seating himself on his accustomed stool, while the
+little darkies sat around on the dirt-floor, he began to weave the
+splits dexterously in an out, and proceeded to tell the story.
+
+  CHAPTER XII
+
+ HOW THE WOODPECKER'S HEAD AND THE ROBIN'S BREAST CAME TO BE RED
+
+"WELL," began Uncle Bob, "hit wuz all erlong er de jay bird, jes ez I
+wuz tellin' yer. Yer see, Mr. Jay Bird he fell'd in love, he did,
+'long o' Miss Robin, an' he wuz er courtin' her, too; ev'y day de Lord
+sen', he'd be er gwine ter see her, an' er singin' ter her, an' er
+cyarin' her berries an' wums; hut, somehow or udder, she didn't pyear
+ter tuck no shine ter him. She'd go er walkin' 'long 'im, an' she'd
+sing songs wid 'im, an' she'd gobble up de berries an' de wums wat he
+fotch, but den w'en hit come ter marry'n uv 'im, she wan't der.
+
+"Well, she wouldn't gib 'im no kin' er 'couragement, tell he got right
+sick at his heart, he did; an' one day, ez he wuz er settin' in his
+nes' an' er steddin how ter wuck on Miss Robin so's ter git her love,
+he hyeard somebody er laughin' an' talkin', an' he lookt out, he did,
+an' dar wuz Miss Robin er prumurradin' wid de Woodpecker. An' wen he
+seed dat, he got pow'ful mad, an' he 'low'd ter his se'f dat efn de
+Lord spar'd him, he inten' fur ter fix dat Woodpecker.
+
+"In dem times de Woodpecker's head wuz right black, same ez er crow,
+an' he had er topknot on 'im like er rooster. Gemmun, he wuz er
+han'sum bird, too. See 'im uv er Sunday, wid his 'go-ter-meetin''
+cloze on, an' dar wan't no bird could totch 'im fur looks.
+
+"Well, he an' Miss Robin dey went on by, er laffin' an' er talkin' wid
+one ernudder; an' de Jay he sot dar, wid his head turnt one side, er
+steddin an' er steddin ter hisse'f; an' by'mby, atter he made up his
+min', he sot right ter wuck, he did, an' fix him er trap.
+
+"He got 'im some sticks, an' he nailt 'em cross'n 'is do' same ez er
+plank-fence, only he lef' space 'nuff twix' de bottom stick an' de
+nex' one fur er bird ter git thu; den, stid er nailin' de stick nex'
+de bottom, he tuck'n prope it up at one een wid er little chip fur ter
+hole it, an' den jes res' tudder een 'gins de side er de nes'. Soon's
+eber he done dat, he crawlt out thu de crack mighty kyeerful, I tell
+yer, caze he wuz fyeared he mout er knock de stick down, an' git his
+own se'f cotch in de trap; so yer hyeard me, mum, he crawlt thu mighty
+tick'ler.
+
+"Atter he got thu, den he santer 'long, he did, fur ter hunt up de
+Woodpecker; an' by'mby he hyeard him peckin' at er log; an' he went up
+ter him kin' er kyeerless, an' he sez, 'Good-mornin',' sezee; 'yer
+pow'ful busy ter day.'
+
+"Den de Woodpecker he pass de kempulmence wid 'im, des same ez any
+udder gemmun; an' atter dey talk er wile, den de Blue Jay he up'n sez,
+'I wuz jes er lookin' fur yer,' sezee; 'I gwine ter hab er party
+termorrer night, an' I'd like fur yer ter come. All de birds'll be
+dar, Miss Robin in speshul,' sezee.
+
+"An' wen de Woodpecker hyearn dat, he 'lowed he'd try ter git dar. An'
+den de Jay he tell him good-mornin', an' went on ter Miss Robin's
+house. Well, hit pyeart like Miss Robin wuz mo' cole dan uzhul dat
+day, an' by'mby de Jay Bird, fur ter warm her up, sez, 'Yer lookin'
+mighty hansum dis mornin',' sezee. An' sez she, 'I'm proud ter hyear
+yer say so; but, speakin' uv hansum,' sez she, 'hev yer seed Mr.
+Peckerwood lately?'
+
+"Dat made de Blue Jay kint er mad; an' sezee, 'Yer pyear ter tuck er
+mighty intrus' in 'im.'
+
+"'Well, I dunno 'bout'n dat,' sez Miss Robin, sez she, kinter lookin'
+shame. 'I dunno 'boutn dat; but, den I tink he's er mighty hansum
+bird,' sez she.
+
+"Well, wid dat de Jay Bird 'gun ter git madder'n he wuz, an' he 'lowed
+ter hisse'f dat he'd ax Miss Robin ter his house, so's she could see
+how he'd fix de Peckerwood; so he sez,
+
+"'Miss Robin, I gwine ter hab er party termorrer night; de
+Woodpecker'll be dar, an' I'd like fur yer ter come.'
+
+"Miss Robin 'lowed she'd come, and' de Jay Bird tuck his leave.
+
+"Well, de nex' night de Jay sot in 'is nes' er waitin' fur 'is
+cump'ny; an' atter er wile hyear come de Woodpecker. Soon's eber he
+seed de sticks ercross de do', he sez, 'Wy, pyears like yer ben er
+fixin' up,' sezee. 'Ain't yer ben er buildin'?'
+
+"'Well,' sez de Jay Bird, 'I've jes put er few 'provemunce up, fur ter
+keep de scritch-owls outn my nes'; but dar's plenty room fur my
+frien's ter git thu; jes come in,' sezee; an' de Woodpecker he started
+thu de crack. Soon's eber he got his head thu, de Jay pullt de chip
+out, an' de big stick fell right crossn his neck. Den dar he wuz, wid
+his head in an' his feet out! an' de Jay Bird 'gun ter laff, an' ter
+make fun atn 'im. Sezee, 'I hope I see yer! Yer look like sparkin'
+Miss Robin now! hit's er gre't pity she can't see yer stretched out
+like dat; an' she'll be hyear, too, d'rectly; she's er comin' ter de
+party,' sezee, 'an' I'm gwine ter gib her er new dish; I'm gwine ter
+sot her down ter roas' Woodpecker dis ebenin'. An' now, efn yer'll
+'scuse me, I'll lef' yer hyear fur ter sorter 'muse yerse'f wile I
+grin's my ax fur ten' ter yer.'
+
+"An' wid dat de Jay went out, an' lef' de po' Woodpecker er lyin' dar;
+an' by'mby Miss Robin come erlong; an' wen she seed de Woodpecker, she
+axt 'im 'wat's he doin' down dar on de groun'?' an' atter he up an'
+tol' her, an' tol' her how de Jay Bird wuz er grin'in' his ax fur ter
+chop offn his head, den de robin she sot to an' try ter lif' de stick
+offn him. She straint an' she straint, but her strengt' wan't 'nuff
+fur ter move hit den; an' so she sez, 'Mr. Woodpecker,' sez she,
+'s'posin' I cotch hold yer feet, an' try ter pull yer back dis way?'
+'All right,' sez de Woodpecker; an' de Robin, she cotch er good grip
+on his feet, an' she brace herse'f up 'gins er bush, an' pullt wid all
+her might, an' atter er wile she fotch 'im thu; but she wuz bleeged
+ter lef' his topnot behin', fur his head wuz skunt des ez clean ez yer
+han'; 'twuz jes ez raw, honey, ez er piece er beef.
+
+"An' wen de Robin seed dat, she wuz mighty 'stressed; an' she tuck his
+head an' helt it gins her breas' fur ter try an' cumfut him, an' de
+blood got all ober her breas', an' hit's red plum tell yit.
+
+"Well, de Woodpecker he went erlong home, an' de Robin she nusst him
+tell his head got well; but de topknot wuz gone, an' it pyeart like de
+blood all settled in his head, caze fum dat day ter dis his head's ben
+red."
+
+"An' did he marry the Robin?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Now I done tol' yer all I know," said Uncle Bob. "I gun yer de tale
+jes like I hyearn it, an' I ain't er gwine ter make up nuffin', an'
+tell yer wat I dunno ter be de truff. Efn dar's any mo' ter it, den I
+ain't neber hyearn hit. I gun yer de tale jes like hit wuz gunt ter
+me, an' efn yer ain't satisfied wid hit, den I can't holp it."
+
+"But we are satisfied, Uncle Bob," said Diddie. "It was a very pretty
+tale, and we are much obliged to you."
+
+"Yer mo'n welcome, honey," said Uncle Bob, soothed by Diddie's
+answer-- "yer mo'n welcome; but hit's gittin' too late fur you chil'en
+ter be out; yer'd better be er gittin' toerds home."
+
+Here the little girls looked at each other in some perplexity, for
+they knew Diddie had been missed, and they were afraid to go to the
+house.
+
+"Uncle Bob," said Diddie, "we've done er wrong thing this evenin'; we
+ran away fum Miss Carrie, an' we're scared of papa; he might er lock
+us all up in the library, an' talk to us, an' say he's 'stonished an'
+mortified, an' so we're scared to go home."
+
+"Umph!" said Uncle Bob; "you chil'en is mighty bad, anyhow."
+
+"I think we're heap mo' better'n we're bad," said Dumps.
+
+"Well, dat mout er be so," said the old man;
+
+"I ain't er 'sputin it, but you chil'en comes fum or mighty
+high-minded stock uv white folks, an' hit ain't becomin' in yer fur
+ter be runnin' erway an' er hidin' out, same ez oberseer's chil'en,
+an' all kin' er po' white trash."
+
+"We are sorry about it now, Uncle Bob," said Diddie; "but what would
+you 'vise us to do?"
+
+"Well, my invice is dis," said Uncle Bob, "fur ter go ter yer pa, an'
+tell him de truff; state all de konkumstances des like dey happen;
+don't lebe out none er de facks; tell him you're sorry yer 'haved so
+onstreperous, an' ax him fur ter furgib yer; an' ef he do, wy dat's
+all right; an' den ef he don't, wy yer mus' 'bide by de kinsequonces.
+But fuss, do, fo' yer axes fur furgibness, yer mus' turn yer min's ter
+repintunce. Now I ax you chil'en dis, Is-- you-- sorry-- dat-- you--
+runned-- off? an'-- is-- you-- 'pentin'-- uv-- wadin'-- in-- de--
+ditch?"
+
+Uncle Rob spoke very slowly and solemnly, and in a deep tone; and
+Diddie, feeling very much as if she had been guilty of murder,
+replied,
+
+"Yes, I am truly sorry, Uncle Bob."
+
+Dumps and Tot and the three little darkies gravely nodded their heads
+in assent.
+
+"Den jes go an' tell yer pa so," said the old man. "An', anyway,
+yer'll hatter be gwine, caze hit's gittin' dark."
+
+The little folks walked off slowly towards the house, and presently
+Dumps said,
+
+"Diddie, I don't b'lieve I'm rael sorry we runned off, an' I don't
+right 'pent 'bout wadin' in the ditch, cause we had er mighty heap er
+fun; an' yer reckon ef I'm jes sorter sorry, an' jes toler'ble 'pent,
+that'll do?"
+
+"I don't know about that," said Diddie; "but I'm right sorry, and I'll
+tell papa fur all of us."
+
+The children went at once to the library, where Major Waldron was
+found reading.
+
+"Papa," said Diddie, "we've ben very bad, an' we've come ter tell yer
+'bout it."
+
+"An' the Jay Bird, he tol' the deb'l," put in Dumps, "an' 'twan't none
+er his business."
+
+"Hush up, Dumps," said Diddie, "till I tell papa 'bout it. I wouldn't
+say my lesson, papa, an' Miss Carrie locked me up, an' the chil'en
+brought me my dinner."
+
+"'Tuz me," chimed in Tot. "I b'ing 'er de besses dinner-- take an' jam
+an' pud'n in de p'ate. Aunt Mawy dum tum me."
+
+"Hush, Tot," said Diddie, "till I get through. An' then, papa, I
+climbed out the winder on the step-ladder, an' I--"
+
+"Dilsey an' Chris got the ladder," put in Dumps.
+
+"HUSH UP, Dumps!" said Diddie; "you're all time 'ruptin' me."
+
+"I reckon I done jes bad ez you," retorted Dumps, "an' I got jes much
+right ter tell 'boutn it. You think nobody can't be bad but yerse'f."
+
+"Well, then, you can tell it all," said Diddie, with dignity. "Papa,
+Dumps will tell you."
+
+And Dumps, nothing daunted, continued:
+
+"Dilsey an' Chris brought the step-ladder, an' Diddie clum out; an' we
+runned erway in the woods, an' waded in the ditch, an' got all muddy
+up; an' the Jay Bird, he was settin' on er limb watchin' us, an' he
+carried the news ter the deb'l; an' Uncle Snake-bit Bob let us go ter
+his shop, an' tol' us 'bout the Woodpecker's head, an' that's all;
+only we ain't n-e-v-er goin' ter do it no mo'; an', oh yes, I furgot--
+an' Diddie's rael sorry an' right 'pents; an' I'm sorter sorry, an'
+toler'ble 'pents. An', please, are you mad, papa?"
+
+"It was certainly very wrong," said her father, "to help Diddie to get
+out, when Miss Carrie had locked her in; and I am surprised that
+Diddie should need to be kept in. Why didn't you learn your lesson, my
+daughter?"
+
+"I did," answered Diddie; "I knew it every word; but Miss Carrie jus'
+cut up, an' wouldn't let me say it like 'twas in the book; an' she
+laughed at me; an' then I got mad, an' wouldn't say it at all."
+
+"Which lesson was it?" asked Major Waldron.
+
+"'Twas er hist'ry lesson, an' the question was, 'Who was Columbus?'
+an' the answer was, 'He was the son of er extinguished alligator,' an'
+Miss Carrie laughed, an' said that wan't it."
+
+"And I rather think Miss Carrie was right," said the father. "Go and
+bring me the book."
+
+Diddie soon returned with her little history, and, showing the passage
+to her father, said eagerly,
+
+"Now don't you see here, papa?"
+
+And Major Waldron read, "He was the son of a distinguished navigator."
+Then making Diddie spell the words in the book, he explained to her
+her mistake, and said he would like to have her apologize to Miss
+Carrie for being so rude to her.
+
+This Diddie was very willing to do, and her father went with her to
+the sitting-room to find Miss Carrie, who readily forgave Diddie for
+her rebellion, and Dumps and Tot for interfering with her discipline.
+And that was a great deal more than Mammy did, when she saw the state
+of their shoes and stockings, and found that they had been wading in
+the ditch.
+
+She slapped the little darkies, and tied red-flannel rags wet with
+turpentine round the children's necks to keep them from taking cold,
+and scolded and fussed so that the little girls pulled the covers over
+their heads and went to sleep, and left her quarrelling.
+
+  CHAPTER XIII
+
+ A PLANTATION MEETING AND UNCLE DANIEL'S SERMON
+
+"ARE you gwine ter meetin', Mammy?" asked Diddie one Sunday evening,
+as Mammy came out of the house attired in her best flowered muslin,
+with an old-fashioned mantilla (that had once been Diddie's
+grandmother's) around her shoulders.
+
+"Cose I gwine ter meetin', honey; I'se er tryin' ter sarve de Lord, I
+is, caze we ain't gwine stay hyear on dis yearth all de time. We got
+ter go ter nudder kentry, chile; an' efn yer don't go ter meetin', an'
+watch an' pray, like de Book say fur yer ter do, den yer mus' look out
+fur yerse'f wen dat Big Day come wat I hyears 'em talkin' 'bout."
+
+"Can't we go with you, Mammy? We'll be good, an' not laugh at 'em
+shoutin'."
+
+"I dunno wat yer gwine loff at 'em shoutin' fur; efn yer don't min' de
+loff gwine ter be turnt some er deze days, an' dem wat yer loffs at
+hyear, dem's de ones wat's gwine ter do de loffin' wen we gits up
+yon'er! But, let erlone dat, yer kin go efn yer wants ter; an' efn
+yer'll make has'e an' git yer bunnits, caze I ain't gwine wait no gret
+wile. I don't like ter go ter meetin' atter hit starts. I want ter
+hyear Brer Dan'l's tex', I duz. I can't neber enj'y de sermon doutn I
+hyears de tex'."
+
+You may be sure it wasn't long before the children were all ready for
+they knew Mammy would be as good as her word, and would not wait for
+them. When they reached the church, which was a very nice wooden
+building that Major Waldron had had built for that purpose, there was
+a large crowd assembled; for, besides Major Waldron's own slaves,
+quite a number from the adjoining plantations were there. The younger
+negroes were laughing and chatting in groups outside the door, but the
+older ones wore very solemn countenances, and walked gravely in and up
+to the very front pews. On Mammy's arrival, she placed the little
+girls in seats at the back of the house, and left Dilsey and Chris and
+Riar on the seat just behind them, "fur ter min' em'," as she said
+(for the children must always be under the supervision of somebody),
+and then she went to her accustomed place at the front; for Mammy was
+one of the leading members, and sat in the amen corner.
+
+Soon after they had taken their seats, Uncle Gabe, who had a powerful
+voice, and led the singing, struck up:
+
+  "Roll, Jordan, roll! roll, Jordan, roll!
+   I want ter go ter heb'n wen I die,
+   Fur ter hyear sweet Jordan roll.
+  "Oh, pray, my brudder, pray!
+   Yes, my Lord;
+   My brudder's settin in de kingdom,
+   Fur ter hyear sweet Jordan roll.
+  Chorus
+  "Roll, Jordan, roll! roll, Jordan, roll!
+   I want ter go ter heb'n wen I die,
+   Fur ter hyear sweet Jordan roll.
+  "Oh, shout, my sister, shout!
+   Yes, my Lord;
+   My sister she's er shoutin'
+   Caze she hyears sweet Jordan roll.
+  "Oh, moan, you monahs, moan!
+   Yes, my Lord;
+   De monahs sobbin' an' er weepin',
+   Fur ter hyear sweet Jordan roll.
+  "Oh, scoff, you scoffers, scoff!
+   Yes, my Lord;
+   Dem sinners wat's er scoffin'
+   Can't hyear sweet Jordan roll."
+
+And as the flood of melody poured through the house, the groups on the
+outside came in to join the singing.
+
+After the hymn, Uncle Snake-bit Bob led in prayer, and what the old
+man lacked in grammer and rhetoric was fully made up for in fervency
+and zeal.
+
+The prayer ended, Uncle Daniel arose, and, carefully adjusting his
+spectacles, he opened his Bible with all the gravity and dignity
+imaginable, and proceeded to give out his text.
+
+Now the opening of the Bible was a mere matter of form, for Uncle
+Daniel didn't even know his letters; but he thought it was more
+impressive to have the Bible open, and therefore never omitted that
+part of the ceremony.
+
+"My bredren an' my sistren," he began, looking solemnly over his specs
+at the congregation, "de tex' wat I'se gwine ter gib fur yer
+'strucshun dis ebenin' yer'll not fin' in de foremus' part er de Book,
+nur yit in de hine part. Hit's swotuwated mo' in de middle like,
+'boutn ez fur fum one een ez 'tiz fum tudder, an' de wuds uv de tex'
+is dis:
+
+"'Burhol', I'll punish um! dey young men shall die by de s'ord, an'
+dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"My bredren, embracin' uv de sistren, I'se ben 'stressed in my min'
+'boutn de wickedness I sees er gwine on. Eby night de Lord sen' dar's
+dancin' an' loffin' an' fiddlin'; an' efn er man raises 'im er few
+chickens an' watermillions, dey ain't safe no longer'n his back's
+turnt; an', let erlone dat, dar's quarlin' 'longer one nudder, an'
+dar's sassin' uv white folks an' ole pussuns, an' dar's drinkin' uv
+whiskey, an' dar's beatin' uv wives, an' dar's dev'lin' uv husban's,
+an' dar's imperrence uv chil'en, an' dar's makin' fun uv 'ligion, an'
+dar's singin' uv reel chunes, an' dar's slightin' uv wuck, an' dar's
+stayin' fum meetin', an' dar's swearin' an' cussin', an' dar's eby
+kin' er wickedness an' dev'lment loose in de land.
+
+"An', my bredren, takin' in de sistren, I've talked ter yer, an' I've
+tol' yer uv de goodness an' de long-suff'rin uv de Lord. I tol' yer
+outn his Book, whar he'd lead yer side de waters, an' be a Shepherd
+ter yer; an' yer kep' straight on, an' neber paid no 'tenshun; so
+tudder night, wile I wuz er layin' in de bed an' er steddin' wat ter
+preach 'bout, sumpin' kin' er speak in my ear; an' hit sez, 'Brer
+Dan'l, yer've tol' 'em 'bout de Lord's leadin' uv 'em, an' now tell
+'em 'boutn his drivin' uv 'em. An', my bredren, includin' uv de
+sistren, I ain't gwine ter spare yer feelin's dis day. I'm er stan'in'
+hyear fur ter 'liver de message outn de Book, an' dis is de message:
+
+"'Burhol', I'll punish um! dey young men shall die by de s'ord, an'
+dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"Yer all hyear it, don't yer? An' now yer want ter know who sont it.
+De Lord! Hit's true he sont it by a po' ole nigger, but den hit's his
+own wuds; hit's in his Book. An', fussly, we'll pursidder dis: IS HE
+ABLE TER DO IT? Is he able fur ter kill marster's niggers wid de s'ord
+an' de famine? My bredren, he is able! Didn' he prize open de whale's
+mouf, an' take Jonah right outn him? Didn' he hol' back de lions wen
+dey wuz er rampin' an' er tearin' roun' atter Dan'l in de den? Wen de
+flood come, an' all de yearth wuz drownded, didn' he paddle de ark
+till he landed her on top de mount er rats? Yes, my bredren, embracin'
+uv de sistren, an' de same Lord wat done all er dat, he's de man wat's
+got de s'ords an' de famines ready fur dem wat feels deyse'f too smart
+ter 'bey de teachin's uv de Book. 'Dey young men shall die by de
+s'ord, an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"Oh, you chu'ch membahs wat shouts an' prays uv er Sundays an' steals
+watermillions uv er week-days! Oh, you young men wat's er cussin' an'
+er robbin' uv henrooses! Oh, you young women wat's er singin' uv reel
+chunes! Oh, you chil'en wat's er sassin' uv ole folks! Oh, you ole
+pussons wat's er fussin' an' quarlin'! Oh, you young folks wat's er
+dancin' an' prancin'! Oh, you niggers wat's er slightin' uv yer wuck!
+Oh! pay 'tenshun ter de message dis ebenin', caze yer gwine wake up
+some er deze mornin's, an' dar at yer do's 'll be de s'ord an' de
+famine.
+
+"'Burhol', I'll punish um! dey young men shall die by de s'ord, an'
+dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"Bredren, an' likewise sistren, yer dunno wat yer foolin' wid! Dem
+s'ords an' dem famines is de wust things dey is. Dey's wuss'n de
+rheumatiz; dey's wuss'n de toof-ache; dey's wuss'n de cramps; dey's
+wuss'n de lockjaw; dey's wuss'n anything. Wen Adam an' Ebe wuz turnt
+outn de gyarden, an' de Lord want ter keep 'em out, wat's dat he put
+dar fur ter skyer 'em? Wuz it er elfunt? No, sar! Wuz it er lion? No,
+sar! He had plenty beases uv eby kin', but den he didn' cyar 'boutn
+usen uv 'em. Wuz hit rain or hail, or fire, or thunder, or lightnin'?
+No, my bredren, hit wuz er s'ord! Caze de Lord knowed weneber dey seed
+de s'ord dar dey wan't gwine ter facin' it. Oh, den, lis'en at de
+message dis ebenin'.
+
+"'Dey young men shall die by de s'ord.'
+
+"An' den, ergin, dar dem famines, my bredren, takin' in de sistren--
+dem famines come plum fum Egypt! dey turnt 'em erloose dar one time,
+mun, an' de Book sez all de lan' wuz sore, an' thousan's pun top er
+thousan's wuz slaint.
+
+"Dey ain't no way fur ter git roun' dem famines. Yer may hide, yer may
+run in de swamps, yer may climb de trees, but, bredren, efn eber dem
+famines git atter yer, yer gone! dey'll cotch yer! dey's nuffin like
+'em on de face uv de yearth, les'n hit's de s'ord; dar ain't much
+chice twix dem two. Wen hit comes ter s'ords an' famines, I tell yer,
+gemmun, hit's nip an' tuck. Yit de message, hit sez, 'dey young men
+shall die by de s'ord, an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"Now, bredren an' sistren, an' monahs an' sinners, don't le's force de
+Lord fur ter drive us; le's try fur ter sarve him, an' fur ter git
+erlong doutn de s'ords an de famines. Come up hyear roun' dis altar,
+an' wrestle fur 'ligion, an' dem few uv us wat is godly-- me an' Brer
+Snake-bit Rob an' Sis Haly an' Brer Gabe, an' Brer Lige an' Brer
+One-eyed Pete, an' Sis Rachel (Mammy) an' Sis Hannah-- we're gwine put
+in licks fur yer dis ebenin'. Oh, my frens, yer done hyeard de
+message. Oh, spar' us de s'ords and de famines! don't drive de Lord
+fur ter use 'em! Come up hyear now dis ebenin', an' let us all try ter
+hep yer git thu. Leave yer dancin' an' yer singin' an' yer playin',
+leave yer whiskey an' yer cussin' an' yer swearin', an' tu'n yer min's
+ter de s'ords an' de famines.
+
+"Wen de Lord fotches dem s'ords outn Eden, an' dem famines outn Egyp',
+an' tu'n 'em erloose on dis plantation, I tell yer, mun, dar's gwine
+be skyeared niggers hyear. Yer won't see no dancin' den; yer won't
+hyear no cussin', nor no chickens hollin' uv er night; dey won't be no
+reel chunes sung den; yer'll want ter go ter prayin', an' yer'll be er
+callin' on us wat is stedfus in de faith fur ter hep yer; but we can't
+hep yer den. We'll be er tryin' on our wings an' er floppin' 'em"
+("Yes, bless God!" thus Uncle Snake-bit Bob), "an' er gittin' ready
+fur ter start upuds! We'll be er lacin' up dem golden shoes" ("Yes,
+marster!" thus Mammy), "fur ter walk thu dem pearly gates. We can't
+stop den. We can't 'liver no message den; de Book'll be shot. So,
+bredren, hyear it dis ebenin'. 'Dey young men shall die by de s'ord,
+an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
+
+"Now, I've said ernuff; day's no use fur ter keep er talkin', an' all
+you backslidin' chu'ch membahs, tremblin' sinners, an' weepin' monahs,
+come up hyear dis ebenin', an' try ter git erroun' dem s'ords an' dem
+famines. Now my skyearts is clar, caze I done 'liver de message. I
+done tol' yer whar hit come fum. I tol' yer 'twas in de Book, 'boutn
+middle-ways twix' een an' een; an' wedder David writ it or Sam'l writ
+it, or Gen'sis writ it or Paul writ it, or Phesians writ it or Loshuns
+writ it, dat ain't nudder hyear nor dar; dat don't make no diffunce;
+some on 'em writ it, caze hit's sholy in de Book, fur de oberseer's
+wife she read hit ter me outn dar; an' I tuck 'tickler notice, too,
+so's I could tell yer right whar ter fin' it. An', bredren, I'm er
+tellin' yer de truf dis ebenin'; hit's jes 'bout de middle twix' een
+an' een. Hit's dar, sho's yer born, an' dar aint no way fur ter
+'sputin' it, nor ter git roun' it, 'septin' fur ter tu'n fum yer
+wickedness. An' now, Brudder Gabe, raise er chune; an' sing hit
+lively, bredren; an' wile dey's singin' hit, I want yer ter come up
+hyear an' fill deze monahs' benches plum full. Bredren, I want monahs
+'pun top er monahs dis ebenin'. Brethren I want 'em in crowds. I want
+'em in droves. I want 'em laid 'pun top er one ernudder, bredren, tell
+yer can't see de bottumus' monahs. I want 'em piled up hyear dis
+ebenin'. I want 'em packed down, mun, an' den tromped on, ter make
+room fur de nex' load. Oh, my bredren, come! fur 'dey young men shall
+die by de s'ord, an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'"
+
+The scene that followed baffles all description. Uncle Gabe struck
+up--
+
+  "Oh, lebe de woods uv damnation;
+   Come out in de fields uv salvation;
+   Fur de Lord's gwine ter bu'n up creation,
+   Wen de day uv jedgment come.
+  "Oh, sinners, yer may stan' dar er laffin',
+   Wile de res' uv us er quaffin'
+   Uv de streams wich de win's is er waffin'
+   Right fresh fum de heb'nly sho'.
+  "But, min', der's er day is er comin',
+   Wen yer'll hyear a mighty pow'ful hummin';
+   Wen dem angels is er blowin' an' er drummin',
+   In de awful jedgment day.
+  "Oh, monahs, you may stan' dar er weepin',
+   Fur de brooms uv de Lord is er sweepin',
+   An' all de trash dey's er heapin'
+   Outside er de golden gate.
+  "So, sinners, yer'd better be er tu'nin',
+   Er climin' an' er scramblin' an' er runnin',
+   Fur ter 'scape dat drefful burnin'
+   In de awful jedgment day."
+
+And while the hymn was being sung, Uncle Daniel had his wish of
+"monahs 'pun top er monahs," for the benches and aisles immediately
+around the altar were soon crowded with the weeping negroes. Some were
+crying, some shouting Glory! some praying aloud, some exhorting the
+sinners, some comforting the mourners, some shrieking and screaming,
+and, above all the din and confusion, Uncle Daniel could be heard
+halloing, at the top of his voice, "Dem s'ords an' dem famines!" After
+nearly an hour of this intense excitement, the congregation was
+dismissed, one of them, at least, more dead than alive; for "Aunt
+Ceely," who had long been known as "er pow'ful sinful ooman," had
+fallen into a trance, whether real or assumed must be determined by
+wiser heads than mine; for it was no uncommon occurrence for those
+"seekin' 'ligion" to lie in a state of unconsciousness for several
+hours, and, on their return to consciousness, to relate the most
+wonderful experiences of what had happened to them while in the
+trance. Aunt Ceely lay as if she were dead, and two of the Christian
+men (for no sinner must touch her at this critical period) bore her to
+her cabin, followed by the "chu'ch membahs," who would continue their
+singing and praying until she "come thu," even if the trance should
+last all night. The children returned to the house without Mammy, for
+she was with the procession which had followed Aunt Ceely; and as they
+reached the yard, they met their father returning from the lot.
+
+"Papa," called Dumps, "we're goin' ter have awful troubles hyear."
+
+"How, my little daughter?" asked her father.
+
+"The Lord's goin' ter sen' s'ords an' famines, an' they'll eat up all
+the young men, an' ev'ybody's sons an' daughters," she replied,
+earnestly. "Uncle Dan's said so in meetin'; an' all the folks was
+screamin' an' shoutin', an' Aunt Ceely is in a trance 'bout it, an'
+she ain't come thu yet."
+
+Major Waldron was annoyed that his children should have witnessed any
+such scene, for they were all very much excited and frightened at the
+fearful fate that they felt was approaching them; so he took them into
+his library, and explained the meaning of the terms "swords and
+famines," and read to them the whole chapter, explaining how the
+prophet referred only to the calamities that should befall the
+Hebrews; but, notwithstanding all that, the children were uneasy, and
+made Aunt Milly sit by the bedside until they went to sleep, to keep
+the "swords and the famines" from getting them.
+
+  CHAPTER XIV
+
+ DIDDIE AND DUMPS GO VISITING
+
+IT was some time in June that, the weather being fine, Mammy gave the
+children permission to go down to the woods beyond the gin-house and
+have a picnic.
+
+They had a nice lunch put up in their little baskets, and started off
+in high glee, taking with them Cherubim and Seraphim and the doll
+babies. They were not to stay all day, only till dinner-time; so they
+had no time to lose, but set to playing at once.
+
+First, it was "ladies come to see," and each of them had a house under
+the shade of a tree, and spent most of the time visiting and in taking
+care of their respective families. Dumps had started out with Cherubim
+for her little boy; but he proved so refractory, and kept her so busy
+catching him, that she decided to play he was the yard dog, and
+content herself with the dolls for her children. Riar, too, had some
+trouble in her family; in passing through the yard, she had inveigled
+Hester's little two-year-old son to go with them, and now was desirous
+of claiming him as her son and heir-- a position which he filled very
+contentedly until Diddie became ambitious of living in more style than
+her neighbors, and offered Pip (Hester's baby) the position of
+dining-room servant in her establishment; and he, lured off by the
+prospect of playing with the little cups and saucers, deserted Riar
+for Diddie. This produced a little coolness, but gradually it wore
+off, and the visiting between the parties was resumed.
+
+After "ladies come to see" had lost its novelty, they made little
+leaf-boats, and sailed them in the ditch. Then they played "hide the
+switch," and at last concluded to try a game of hide-and-seek. This
+afforded considerable amusement, so they kept it up some time; and
+once, when it became Dumps's time to hide, she ran away to the
+gin-house, and got into the pick-room. And while she was standing
+there all by herself in the dark, she thought she heard somebody
+breathing. This frightened her very much, and she had just opened the
+door to get out, when a negro man crawled from under a pile of dirty
+cotton, and said,
+
+"Little missy, fur de Lord's sake, can't yer gimme sump'n t' eat?"
+
+Dumps was so scared she could hardly stand; but, notwithstanding the
+man's haggard face and hollow eyes, and his weird appearance, with the
+cotton sticking to his head, his tone was gentle, and she stopped to
+look at him more closely.
+
+"Little missy," he said, piteously, "I'se er starvin' ter def. I ain't
+had er mouf'l ter eat in fo' days."
+
+"What's the reason?" asked Dumps. "Are you a runaway nigger?"
+
+"Yes, honey; I 'longs ter ole Tight-fis' Smith; an' he wanted ter whup
+me fur not gittin' out ter de fiel' in time, an' I tuck'n runned erway
+fum 'im, an' now I'm skyeert ter go back, an' ter go anywhar; an' I
+can't fin' nuf'n t' eat, an' I'se er starvin' ter def."
+
+"Well, you wait," said Dumps, "an' I'll go bring yer the picnic."
+
+"Don't tell nobody 'boutn my bein' hyear, honey."
+
+"No, I won't," said Dumps, "only Diddie; she's good, an' she won't
+tell nobody; an' she can read an' write, an' she'll know what to do
+better'n me, because I'm all the time such a little goose. But I'll
+bring yer sump'n t' eat; you jes wait er little minute; an' don't yer
+starve ter def till I come back."
+
+Dumps ran back to the ditch where the children were, and, taking
+Diddie aside in a very mysterious manner, she told her about the poor
+man who was hiding in the gin-house, and about his being so hungry.
+
+"An' I tol' 'im I'd bring 'im the picnic," concluded Dumps; and
+Diddie, being the gentlest and kindest-hearted little girl imaginable,
+at once consented to that plan; and, leaving Tot with the little
+negroes in the woods, the two children took their baskets, and went
+higher up the ditch, on pretence of finding a good place to set the
+table; but, as soon as they were out of sight, they cut across the
+grove, and were soon at the gin-house. They entered the pick-room
+cautiously, and closed the door behind them. The man came out from his
+hiding-place, and the little girls emptied their baskets in his hands.
+
+He ate ravenously, and Diddie and Dumps saw with pleasure how much he
+enjoyed the nice tarts and sandwiches and cakes that Mammy had
+provided for the picnic.
+
+"Do you sleep here at night?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Yes, honey, I'se skyeert ter go out any-whar; I'se so skyeert uv
+Tight-fis' Smith."
+
+"He's awful mean, ain't he?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Dat he is chile," replied the man; "he's cruel an' bad."
+
+"Then don't you ever go back to him," said Dumps. "You stay right here
+an' me'n Diddie'll bring you ev'ything ter eat, an' have you fur our
+nigger."
+
+The man laughed softly at that idea, but said he would stay there for
+the present, anyway; and the children, bidding him good-bye, and
+telling him they would be sure to bring him something to eat the next
+day, went back to their playmates at the ditch.
+
+"Tot," said Diddie, we gave all the picnic away to a poor old man who
+was very hungry; but you don't mind, do you? we'll go back to the
+house, and Mammy will give you just as many cakes as you want."
+
+Tot was a little bit disappointed, for she had wanted to eat the
+picnic in the woods; but Diddie soon comforted her, and before they
+reached the house she was as merry and bright as any of them.
+
+The next morning Diddie and Dumps were very much perplexed to know how
+to get off to the gin-house without being seen. There was no
+difficulty about obtaining the provisions; their mother always let
+them have whatever they wanted to have tea-parties with, and this was
+their excuse for procuring some slices of pie and cake, while Aunt
+Mary gave them bread and meat, and Douglas gave them some cold
+buttered biscuit with ham between.
+
+They wrapped it all up carefully in a bundle, and then, watching their
+chances, they slipped off from Tot and the little darkies, as well as
+from Mammy, and carried it to their guest in the pick-room. He was
+truly glad to see them, and to get the nice breakfast they had
+brought; and the little girls, having now lost all fear of him, sat
+down on a pile of cotton to have a talk with him.
+
+"Did you always b'long to Mr. Tight-fis' Smith?" asked Diddie.
+
+"No, honey; he bought me fum de Powell 'state, an' I ain't b'longst
+ter him no mo'n 'boutn fo' years."
+
+"Is he got any little girls?" asked Dumps.
+
+"No, missy; his wife an' two chil'en wuz bu'nt up on de steamboat
+gwine ter New 'Leans, some twenty years ergo; an' de folks sez dat's
+wat makes 'im sich er kintankrus man. Dey sez fo' dat he usen ter hab
+meetin' on his place, an' he wuz er Christyun man hisse'f; but he got
+mad 'long er de Lord caze de steamboat bu'nt up, an' eber sence dat
+he's been er mighty wicked man; an' he won't let none er his folks
+sarve de Lord; an' he don't 'pyear ter cyar fur nuffin' 'cep'n hit's
+money. But den, honey, he ain't no born gemmun, nohow; he's jes only
+er oberseer wat made 'im er little money, an' bought 'im er few
+niggers; an', I tells yer, he makes 'em wuck, too; we'se got ter be in
+de fiel' long fo' day; an' I ober-slep mysef tudder mornin' an he Wuz
+cussin' an' er gwine on, an' 'lowed he wuz gwine ter whup me, an' so I
+des up an' runned erway fum 'im, an' now I'se skyeert ter go back;
+an', let erlone dat, I'se skyeert ter stay; caze, efn he gits Mr.
+Upson's dogs, dey'll trace me plum hyear; an' wat I is ter do I dunno;
+I jes prays constunt ter de Lord. He'll he'p me, I reckon, caze I
+prays tree times eby day, an' den in 'tween times."
+
+"Is your name Brer Dan'l?" asked Dumps, who remembered Uncle Bob's
+story of Daniel's praying three times a day.
+
+"No, honey, my name's Pomp; but den I'm er prayin' man, des same ez
+Danl' wuz."
+
+"Well, Uncle Pomp," said Diddie, "you stay here just as long as you
+can, an' I'll ask papa to see Mr. Tight-fis' Smith, an' he'll get--"
+
+"Lor', chile," interrupted Uncle Pomp, "don't tell yer pa nuf'n 'boutn
+it; he'll sho' ter sen' me back, an' dat man'll beat me half ter def;
+caze I'se mos' loss er week's time now, an' hit's er mighty 'tickler
+time in de crap."
+
+"But, s'posin' the dogs might come?" said Dumps.
+
+"Well, honey, dey ain't come yit; an' wen dey duz come, den hit'll be
+time fur ter tell yer pa."
+
+"Anyhow, we'll bring you something to eat," said Diddie, "and try and
+help you all we can; but we must go back now, befo' Mammy hunts for
+us; so good-bye;" and again they left him to himself.
+
+As they neared the house, Dumps asked Diddie how far it was to Mr.
+"Tight-fis' Smith's."
+
+"I don't know exactly," said Diddie; "'bout three miles, I think."
+
+"Couldn't we walk there, an' ask him not to whup Uncle Pomp? Maybe he
+wouldn't, ef we was ter beg him right hard."
+
+"Yes, that's jest what we'll do, Dumps; and we'll get Dilsey to go
+with us, 'cause she knows the way."
+
+Dilsey was soon found, and was very willing to accompany them, but was
+puzzled to know why they wanted to go. The children, however, would
+not gratify her curiosity, and they started at once, so as to be back
+in time for dinner.
+
+It was all of three miles to Mr. Smith's plantation, and the little
+girls were very tired long before they got there. Dumps, indeed,
+almost gave out, and once began to cry, and only stopped with Diddie's
+reminding her of poor Uncle Pomp, and with Dilsey's carrying her a
+little way.
+
+At last, about two o'clock, they reached Mr. Smith's place. The hands
+had just gone out into the field after dinner, and of course their
+master who was only a small planter and kept no overseer, was with
+them. The children found the doors all open, and went in.
+
+The house was a double log-cabin, with a hall between, and they
+entered the room on the right, which seemed to be the principal
+living-room. There was a shabby old bed in one corner, with the cover
+all disarranged, as if its occupant had just left it. A table,
+littered with unwashed dishes, stood in the middle of the floor, and
+one or two rude split-bottomed chairs completed the furniture.
+
+The little girls were frightened at the unusual silence about the
+place, as well as the dirt and disorder, but, being very tired, they
+sat down to rest.
+
+"Diddie," asked Dumps, after a little time, "ain't yer scared?"
+
+"I don't think I'm scared, Dumps," replied Diddie; "but I'm not right
+comfor'ble."
+
+"I'm scared," said Dumps. "I'm jes ez fraid of Mr. Tight-fis' Smith!"
+
+"Dat's hit!" said Dilsey. "Now yer talkin', Miss Dumps; dat's er mean
+white man, an, he might er get mad erlong us, an' take us all fur his
+niggers."
+
+"But we ain't black, Diddie an' me," said Dumps.
+
+"Dat don't make no diffunce ter him; he des soon hab white niggers ez
+black uns," remarked Diddie, consolingly; and Dumps, being now
+thoroughly frightened, said,
+
+"Well, I'm er goin' ter put my pen'ence in de Lord. I'm er goin' ter
+pray."
+
+Diddie and Dilsey thought this a wise move, and, the three children
+kneeling down, Dumps began,
+
+  "Now, I lay me down to sleep."
+
+And just at this moment Mr. Smith, returning from the field, was
+surprised to hear a voice proceeding from the house, and, stepping
+lightly to the window, beheld, to his amazement, the three children on
+their knees, with their eyes tightly closed and their hands clasped,
+while Dumps was saying, with great fervor,
+
+  "If I should die before I wake,
+   I pray the Lord my soul to take;
+   An' this I ask for Jesus' sake."
+
+"Amen!" reverently responded Diddie and Dilsey; and they all rose from
+their knees much comforted.
+
+"I ain't 'fraid uv him now," said Dumps, "'cause I b'lieve the Lord'll
+he'p us, an' not let Mr. Tight-fis' Smith git us."
+
+"I b'lieve so too," said Diddie; and, turning to the window, she found
+Mr. Smith watching them.
+
+"Are you Mr. Tight-fis' Smith?" asked Diddie, timidly.
+
+"I am Mr. Smith, and I have heard that I am called 'tight-fisted' in
+the neighborhood," he replied, with a smile.
+
+"Well, we are Major Waldron's little girls, Diddie and Dumps, an' this
+is my maid Dilsey, an' we've come ter see yer on business."
+
+"On business, eh?" replied Mr. Smith, stepping in at the low window.
+"Well, what's the business, little ones?" and he took a seat on the
+side of the bed, and regarded them curiously. But here Diddie stopped,
+for she felt it was a delicate matter to speak to this genial,
+pleasant-faced old man of cruelty to his own slaves. Dumps, however,
+was troubled with no such scruples; and, finding that Mr. Smith was
+not so terrible as she hid feared, she approached him boldly, and,
+standing by his side, she laid one hand on his gray head, and said:
+
+"Mr. Smith, we've come ter beg you please not ter whup Uncle Pomp if
+he comes back. He is runned erway, an me an Diddie know where he is,
+an' we've ben feedin' him, an' we don't want you ter whup him; will
+you please don't?" and Dumps's arm slipped down from the old man's
+head, until it rested around his neck; and Mr. Smith, looking into her
+eager, childish face, and seeing the blue eyes filled with tears,
+thought of the little faces that long years ago had looked up to his;
+and, bending his head, he kissed the rosy mouth.
+
+"You won't whup him, will you?" urged Dumps.
+
+"Don't you think he ought to be punished for running away and staying
+all this time, when I needed him in the crop?" asked Mr. Smith,
+gently.
+
+"But, indeed, he is punished," said Diddie; "he was almost starved to
+death when me and Dumps carried him the picnic; and then he is so
+scared, he's been punished, Mr. Smith; so please let him come home,
+and don't whup him."
+
+"Yes, PLE-EE-ASE promise," said Dumps, tightening her hold on his
+neck; and Mr. Smith, in memory of the little arms that once clung
+round him, and the little fingers that in other days clasped his,
+said:
+
+"Well, I'll promise, little ones. Pomp may come home, and I'll not
+whip or punish him in any way;" and then he kissed them both, and said
+they must have a lunch with him, and then he would take them home and
+bring Pomp back; for he was astonished to learn that they had walked
+so long a distance, and would not hear of their walking back, though
+Diddie persisted that they must go, as they had stolen off, and nobody
+knew where they were.
+
+He made the cook bake them some hot corn hoe-cakes and boil them some
+eggs; and while she was fixing it, and getting the fresh butter and
+buttermilk to add to the meal, Mr. Smith took them to the June
+apple-tree, and gave them just as many red apples as they wanted to
+eat, and some to take home to Tot. And Dumps told him all about "Old
+Billy" and Cherubim and Seraphim, and the old man laughed, and enjoyed
+it all, for he had no relatives or friends, and lived entirely alone--
+a stern, cold man, whose life had been embittered by the sudden loss
+of his loved ones, and it had been many weary years since he had heard
+children's voices chatting and laughing under the apple-tree.
+
+After the lunch, which his guests enjoyed very much Mr. Smith had a
+little donkey brought out for Dilsey to ride, and, taking Diddie
+behind him on his horse, and Dumps in his arms, he started with them
+for home.
+
+There was but one saddle, so Dilsey was riding "bareback," and had to
+sit astride of the donkey to keep from falling off, which so amused
+the children that merry peals of laughter rang out from time to time;
+indeed, Dumps laughed so much, that, if Mr. Smith had not held her
+tightly, she certainly would have fallen off. But it was not very
+funny to Dilsey; she held on with all her might to the donkey's short
+mane, and even then could scarcely keep her seat. She was highly
+indignant with the children for laughing at her, and said:
+
+"I dunno wat yer kill'n yerse'f laffin' 'bout, got me er settin' on
+dis hyear beas'; I ain't gwine wid yer no mo'."
+
+Major Waldron was sitting on the veranda as the cavalcade came up, and
+was surprised to see his little daughters with Mr. Smith, and still
+more so to learn that they had walked all the way to his house on a
+mission of mercy; but being a kind man, and not wishing to check the
+germs of love and sympathy in their young hearts, he forbore to scold
+them, and went with them and Mr. Smith to the gin-house for the
+runaway.
+
+On reaching the pick-room, the children went in alone, and told Uncle
+Pomp that his master had come for him, and had promised not to punish
+him; but still the old man was afraid to go out, and stood there in
+alarm till Mr. Smith called:
+
+"Come out, Pomp! I'll keep my promise to the little ones; you shall
+not be punished in any way. Come out, and let's go home."
+
+And Uncle Pomp emerged from his hiding-place, presenting a very
+ludicrous spectacle, with his unwashed face and uncombed hair, and the
+dirty cotton sticking to his clothes.
+
+"Ef'n yer'll furgib de ole nigger dis time, marster, he ain't neber
+gwine run erway no mo' an', mo'n dat, he gwine ter make speshul
+'spress 'rangemunce fur ter git up sooner in de mornin'; he is dat,
+jes sho's yer born!" said the old negro, as he came before his master.
+
+"Don't make too many promises, Pomp," kindly replied Mr. Smith; "we
+will both try to do better; at any rate, you shall not be punished
+this time. Now take your leave of your kind little friends, and let's
+get towards home; we are losing lots of time this fine day."
+
+"Good-bye, little misses," said Uncle Pomp, grasping Diddie's hand in
+one of his and Dumps's in the other; "good-bye; I gwine pray fur yer
+bof ev'y night wat de Lord sen'; an', mo'n dat, I gwine fotch yer some
+pattridge aigs de fus' nes' wat I fin's."
+
+And Uncle Pomp mounted the donkey that Dilsey had ridden, and rode off
+with his master, while Diddie and Dumps climbed on top of the fence to
+catch the last glimpse of them, waving their sun-bonnets and calling
+out,
+
+"Good-bye, Mr. Tight-fis' Smith and Uncle Pomp."
+
+  CHAPTER XV
+
+ THE FOURTH OF JULY
+
+"THE glorious Fourth" was always a holiday on every Southern
+plantation, and, of course, Major Waldron's was no exception to the
+rule. His negroes not only had holiday, but a barbecue, and it was a
+day of general mirth and festivity.
+
+On this particular "Fourth" the barbecue was to be on the banks of the
+creek formed by the back-waters of the river, and was to be a
+"fish-fry" as well as a barbecue.
+
+All hands on the plantation were up by daylight, and preparing for the
+frolic. Some of the negro men, indeed, had been down to the creek all
+night setting out their fish-baskets and getting the "pit" ready for
+the meats. The pit was a large hole, in which a fire was kindled to
+roast the animals, which were suspended over it; and they must
+commence the barbecuing very early in the morning, in order to get
+everything ready by dinner-time. The children were as much excited
+over it as the negroes were and Mammy could hardly keep them still
+enough to dress them, they were so eager to be off. Major and Mrs.
+Waldron were to go in the light carriage, but the little folks were to
+go with Mammy and Aunt Milly in the spring-wagon, along with the
+baskets of provisions for the "white folks' tables;" the bread and
+vegetables and cakes and pastry for the negroes' tables had been sent
+off in a large wagon, and were at the place for the barbecue long
+before the white family started from home. The negroes, too, had all
+gone. Those who were not able to walk had gone in wagons, but most of
+them had walked, for it was only about three miles from the house.
+
+Despite all their efforts to hurry up Mammy, it was nearly nine
+o'clock before the children could get her off; and even then she
+didn't want to let Cherubim and Seraphim go, and Uncle Snake-bit Bob,
+who was driving the wagon, had to add his entreaties to those of the
+little folks before she would consent at all; and after that matter
+had been decided, and the baskets all packed in, and the children all
+comfortably seated, and Dilsey and Chris and Riar squeezed into the
+back of the wagon between the ice-cream freezer and the lemonade
+buckets, and Cherubim and Seraphim in the children's laps, and Mammy
+and Aunt Milly on two split-bottomed chairs, just back of the driver's
+seat, and Uncle Snake-bit Bob, with the reins in his hands, just ready
+to drive off-- whom should they see but Old Daddy Jake coming down the
+avenue, and waving his hat for them to wait for him.
+
+"Dar now!" said Mammy; "de folks done gone an' lef' Ole Daddy, an' we
+got ter stuff 'im in hyear somewhar."
+
+"They ain't no room in hyear," said Dumps, tightening her gasp on
+Cherubim, for she strongly suspected that Mammy would insist on
+leaving the puppies to make room for Daddy.
+
+"Well, he ain't got ter be lef'," said Mammy; "I wuz allers larnt ter
+'spect ole folks myse'f, an' ef'n dis wagin goes, why den Daddy Jake's
+got ter go in it;" and, Major and Mrs. Waldron having gone, Mammy was
+the next highest in command, and from her decision there was no
+appeal.
+
+"How come yer ter git lef', Daddy," asked Uncle Snake-bit Bob, as the
+old man came up hobbling on his stick.
+
+"Well, yer see, chile, I wuz er lightin' uv my pipe, an' er fixin' uv
+er new stim in it, an' I nuber notus wen de wagins went off. Yer see
+I'm er gittin' er little deef in deze ole yurs of mine: dey ben er
+fasten't on ter dis ole nigger's head er long time, uperds uv er
+hundred years or mo'; an' de time hez ben wen dey could hyear de
+leaves fall uv er nights; but dey gittin' out'n fix somehow; dey ain't
+wuckin' like dey oughter; an' dey jus sot up dar, an' let de wagins
+drive off, an' leave de ole nigger er lightin' uv his pipe; an' wen I
+got thu, an' went ter de do', den I hyeard er mighty stillness in de
+quarters, an' bless yer heart, de folks wuz gone; an' I lookt up dis
+way, an' I seed de wagin hyear, an' I 'lowed yer'd all gimme er lif'
+some way."
+
+"Dem little niggers'll hatter stay at home," said Mammy, sharply,
+eyeing the little darkies, "or else they'll hatter walk, caze Daddy's
+got ter come in dis wagin. Now, you git out, you little niggers."
+
+At this, Dilsey and Chris and Riar began to unpack themselves, crying
+bitterly the while, because they were afraid to walk by themselves,
+and they knew they couldn't walk fast enough to keep up with the
+wagon; but here Diddie came to the rescue, and persuaded Uncle Bob to
+go to the stable and saddle Corbin, and all three of the little
+negroes mounted him, and rode on behind the wagon, while Daddy Jim was
+comfortably fixed in the space they had occupied; and now they were
+fairly off.
+
+"Mammy, what does folks have Fourf of Julys for?" asked Dumps, after a
+little while.
+
+"I dunno, honey," answered Mammy; "I hyear 'em say hit wuz 'long o'
+some fightin' or nuther wat de white folks fit one time; but whedder
+dat wuz de time wat Brer David fit Goliar or not, I dunno; I ain't
+hyeard 'em say 'bout dat: it mout er ben dat time, an' den ergin it
+mout er ben de time wat Brer Samson kilt up de folks wid de jawbone. I
+ain't right sho wat time hit wuz; but den I knows hit wuz some
+fightin' or nuther."
+
+"It was the 'Declination of Independence'," said Diddie. "It's in the
+little history; and it wasn't any fightin', it was a writin'; and
+there's the picture of it in the book: and all the men are sittin'
+roun', and one of 'em is writin'."
+
+"Yes, dat's jes wat I hyearn," said Uncle Bob. "I hyearn 'em say dat
+dey had de fuss' Defemation uv Ondepen'ence on de Fourf uv July, an'
+eber sence den de folks ben er habin' holerday an' barbecues on dat
+day."
+
+"What's er Defemation, Uncle Bob?" asked Dumps, who possessed an
+inquiring mind.
+
+"Well, I mos' furgits de zack meanin'," said the old man, scratching
+his head; "hit's some kin' er writin', do, jes like Miss Diddie say;
+but, let erlone dat, hit's in de squshionary, an' yer ma kin fin' hit
+fur yer, an' 'splain de zack meanin' uv de word; but de Defemation uv
+Ondepen'ence, hit happened on de fuss Fourf uv July, an' hit happens
+ev'ry Fourf uv July sence den; an' dat's 'cordin 'ter my onderstandin'
+uv hit," said Uncle Rob, whipping up his horses.
+
+"What's dat, Brer Bob?" asked Daddy Jake, and as soon as Uncle Bob had
+yelled at him Dumps's query and his answer to it, the old man said:
+
+"Yer wrong, Brer Bob; I 'members well de fus' Fourf uv July; hit wuz
+er man, honey. Marse Fofer July wuz er man, an' de day wuz name atter
+him. He wuz er pow'ful fightin' man; but den who it wuz he fit I mos'
+furgot, hit's ben so long ergo; but I 'members, do, I wuz er right
+smart slip uv er boy, an' I went wid my ole marster, yer pa's gran'pa,
+to er big dinner wat dey had on de Jeems Riber, in ole Furginny; an'
+dat day, sar, Marse Fofer July wuz dar; an' he made er big speech ter
+de white folks, caze I hyeard 'em clappin' uv dey han's. I nuber seed
+'im but I hyeard he wuz dar, do, an' I knows he wuz dar, caze I sho'ly
+hyeard 'em clappin' uv dey han's; an', 'cordin' ter de way I 'members
+bout'n it, dis is his birfday, wat de folks keeps plum till yet caze
+dey ain't no men nowerdays like Marse Fofer July. He wuz er gre't man,
+an' he had sense, too; an' den, 'sides dat, he wuz some er de fus'
+famblys in dem days. Wy, his folks usen ter visit our white folks. I
+helt his horse fur 'im de many er time; an', let erlone dat, I knowed
+some uv his niggers; but den dat's ben er long time ergo."
+
+"But what was he writin' about Daddy?" asked Diddie, who remembered
+the picture too well to give up the "writing part."
+
+"He wuz jes signin' some kin' er deeds or sump'n," said Daddy. "I
+dunno wat he wuz writin' erbout; but den he wuz er man, caze he lived
+in my recommembrunce, an' I done seed 'im myse'f."
+
+That settled the whole matter, though Diddie was not entirely
+satisfied; but, as the wagon drove up to the creek bank just then, she
+was too much interested in the barbecue to care very much for "Marse
+Fofer July."
+
+The children all had their fishing-lines and hooks, and as soon as
+they were on the ground started to find a good place to fish. Dilsey
+got some bait from the negro boys, and baited the hooks; and it was a
+comical sight to see all of the children, white and black, perched
+upon the roots of trees or seated flat on the ground, watching
+intently their hooks, which they kept bobbing up and down so fast that
+the fish must have been very quick indeed to catch them.
+
+They soon wearied of such dull sport, and began to set their wits to
+work to know what to do next.
+
+"Le's go 'possum-huntin'," suggested Dilsey.
+
+"There ain't any 'possums in the daytime," said Diddie.
+
+"Yes dey is, Miss Diddie, lots uv 'em; folks jes goes at night fur ter
+save time. I knows how ter hunt fur 'possums; I kin tree 'em jes same
+ez er dog."
+
+And the children, delighted at the novelty of the thing, all started
+off "'possum-hunting," for Mammy was helping unpack the
+dinner-baskets, and was not watching them just then. They wandered off
+some distance, climbing over logs and falling into mud-puddles, for
+they all had their heads thrown back and their faces turned up to the
+trees, looking for the 'possums, and thereby missed seeing impediments
+in the way.
+
+At length Dilsey called out, "Hyear he is! Hyear de 'possum!" and they
+all came to a dead halt under a large oak-tree, which Dilsey and
+Chris, and even Diddie and Dumps, I regret to say, prepared to climb.
+But the climbing consisted mostly in active and fruitless endeavors to
+make a start, for Dilsey was the only one of the party who got as much
+as three feet from the ground; but she actually did climb up until she
+reached the first limb, and then crawled along it until she got near
+enough to shake off the 'possum, which proved to be a big chunk of
+wood that had lodged up there from a falling branch, probably; and
+when Dilsey shook the limb it fell down right upon Riar's upturned
+face, and made her nose bleed.
+
+"Wat you doin', you nigger you?" demanded Riar, angrily, as she wiped
+the blood from her face. "I dar' yer ter come down out'n dat tree, an'
+I'll beat de life out'n yer; I'll larn yer who ter be shakin' chunks
+on."
+
+In vain did Dilsey apologize, and say she thought it was a 'possum;
+Riar would listen to no excuse; and as soon as Dilsey reached the
+ground they had a rough-and-tumble fight, in which both parties got
+considerably worsted in the way of losing valuable hair, and of having
+their eyes filled with dirt and their clean dresses all muddied; but
+Tot was so much afraid Riar, her little nurse and maid, would get hurt
+that she screamed and cried, and refused to be comforted until the
+combatants suspended active hostilities, though they kept up
+quarrelling for some time, even after they had recommenced their
+search for 'possums.
+
+"Dilsey don't know how to tree no 'possums," said Riar,
+contemptuously, after they had walked for some time, and anxiously
+looked up into every tree they passed.
+
+"Yes I kin," retorted Dilsey; "I kin tree 'em jes ez same ez er dog,
+ef'n dar's any 'possums fur ter tree; but I can't make 'possums, do;
+an' ef dey ain't no 'possums, den I can't tree 'em, dat's all."
+
+"Maybe they don't come out on the Fourf uv July," said Dumps. "Maybe
+'possums keeps it same as peoples,"
+
+"Now, maybe dey duz," said Dilsey, who was glad to have some excuse
+for her profitless 'possum-hunting; and the children, being fairly
+tired out, started back to the creek bank, when they came upon Uncle
+Snake-bit Bob, wandering through the woods, and looking intently on
+the ground.
+
+"What are you looking for, Uncle Bob?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Des er few buckeyes, honey," answered the old man.
+
+"What you goin' ter du with 'em?" asked Dumps, as the little girls
+joined him in his search.
+
+"Well, I don't want ter die no drunkard, myse'f," said Uncle Bob,
+whose besetting sin was love of whiskey.
+
+"Does buckeyes keep folks from dying drunkards?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Dat's wat dey sez; an' I 'lowed I'd lay me in er few caze I've allers
+hyearn dat dem folks wat totes a buckeye in dey lef' britches pocket,
+an' den ernudder in de righthan' coat pocket, dat dey ain't gwine die
+no drunkards."
+
+"But if they would stop drinkin' whiskey they wouldn't die drunkards
+anyhow, would they, Uncle Bob?"
+
+"Well, I dunno, honey; yer pinnin' de ole nigger mighty close; de
+whiskey mout hab sump'n ter do wid it; I ain't 'sputin' dat-- but wat
+I stan's on is dis: dem folks wat I seed die drunk, dey nuber had no
+buckeyes in dey pockets; caze I 'members dat oberseer wat Marse
+Brunson had, he died wid delirums treums, an' he runned, he did, fur
+ter git 'way fum de things wat he seed atter him; an' he jumped into
+de riber, an' got drownded; an' I wuz dar wen dey pulled 'im out; an'
+I sez ter Brer John Small, who wuz er standin' dar, sez I, now I lay
+yer he ain't got no buckeyes in his pockets; and wid dat me'n Brer
+John we tuck'n turnt his pockets wrong side outerds; an' bless yer
+soul, chile, hit wuz jes like I say; DAR WAN'T NO BUCKEYES DAR! Well,
+I'd b'lieved in de ole sayin' befo', but dat jes kin'ter sot me on it
+fas'er 'n eber; an' I don't cyar wat de wedder is, nor wat de hurry
+is; hit may rain an' hit may shine, an' de time may be er pressin',
+but ole Rob he don't stir out'n his house mornin's 'cep'n he's got
+buckeyes in his pockets. But I seed 'em gittin' ready fur dinner as I
+comed erlong, an' you chil'en better be er gittin' toerds de table."
+
+That was enough for the little folks, and they hurried back to the
+creek. The table was formed by driving posts into the ground, and
+laying planks across them, and had been fixed up the day before by
+some of the men. The dinner was excellent-- barbecued mutton and shote
+and lamb and squirrels, and very fine "gumbo," and plenty of
+vegetables and watermelons and fruits, and fresh fish which the
+negroes had caught in the seine, for none of the anglers had been
+successful.
+
+Everybody was hungry, for they had had very early breakfast, and,
+besides, it had been a fatiguing day, for most of the negroes had
+walked the three miles, and then had danced and played games nearly
+all the morning, and so they were ready for dinner. And everybody
+seemed very happy and gay except Mammy; she had been so upset at the
+children's torn dresses and dirty faces that she could not regain her
+good-humor all at once; and then, too, Dumps had lost her sun-bonnet,
+and there were some unmistakable freckles across her little nose, and
+so Mammy looked very cross, and grumbled a good deal, though her
+appetite seemed good, and she did full justice to the barbecue.
+
+Now Mammy had some peculiar ideas of her own as to the right and
+proper way for ladies to conduct themselves, and one of her theories
+was that no white lady should ever eat heartily in company; she might
+eat between meals, if desired, or even go back after the meal was over
+and satisfy her appetite; but to sit down with a party of ladies and
+gentlemen and make a good "square" meal, Mammy considered very
+ungenteel indeed. This idea she was always trying to impress upon the
+little girls, so as to render them as ladylike as possible in the
+years to come; and on this occasion, as there were quite a number of
+the families from the adjacent plantations present, she was horrified
+to see Dumps eating as heartily, and with as evident satisfaction, as
+if she had been alone in the nursery at home. Diddie, too, had taken
+her second piece of barbecued squirrel, and seemed to be enjoying it
+very much, when a shake of Mammy's head reminded her of the
+impropriety of such a proceeding; so she laid aside the squirrel, and
+minced delicately over some less substantial food. The frowns and
+nods, however, were thrown away upon Dumps; she ate of everything she
+wanted until she was fully satisfied, and I grieve to say that her
+papa encouraged her in such unladylike behavior by helping her
+liberally to whatever she asked for.
+
+But after the dinner was over, and after the darkies had played and
+danced until quite late, and after the ladies and gentlemen had had
+several very interesting games of euchre and whist, and after the
+little folks had wandered about as much as they pleased-- swinging on
+grape-vines and riding on "saplings," and playing "base" and "stealing
+goods," and tiring themselves out generally-- and after they had been
+all duly stowed away in the spring-wagon and had started for home,
+then Mammy began at Dumps about her unpardonable appetite.
+
+"But I was hungry, Mammy," apologized the little girl.
+
+"I don't cyer ef'n yer wuz," replied Mammy; "dat ain't no reason fur
+yer furgittin' yer manners, an' stuffin' yerse'f right fo' all de
+gemmuns. Miss Diddie dar, she burhavt like er little lady, jes kinter
+foolin' wid her knife an' fork, an' nuber eatin' nuffin' hardly; an'
+dar you wuz jes ir pilin' in shotes an' lams an' squ'ls, an' roas'n
+yurs, an' pickles an' puddin's an' cakes an' watermillions, tell I wuz
+dat shame fur ter call yer marster's darter!"
+
+And poor little Dumps, now that the enormity of her sin was brought
+home to her, and the articles eaten so carefully enumerated, began to
+feel very much like a boa-constrictor, and the tears fell from her
+eyes as Mammy continued:
+
+"I done nust er heap er chil'en in my time, but I ain't nuber seed no
+white chile eat fo de gemmuns like you duz. It pyears like I can't
+nuber larn you no manners, nohow."
+
+"Let de chile erlone, Sis Rachel," interposed Uncle Bob; "she ain't no
+grown lady, an' I seed marster he'p'n uv her plate hisse'f; she nuber
+eat none too much, consid'n hit wuz de Fourf uv July."
+
+"Didn't I eat no shotes an' lambs, Uncle Bob?" asked Dumps, wiping her
+eyes.
+
+"I don't b'lieve yer did," said Uncle Bob. "I seed yer eat er squ'l or
+two, an' er few fish, likely; an' dem, wid er sprinklin' uv roas'n
+yurs an' cakes, wuz de mos' wat I seed yer eat."
+
+"An' dat wuz too much," said Mammy, "right befo' de gemmuns."
+
+But Dumps was comforted at Uncle Bob's moderate statement of the case,
+and so Mammy's lecture lost much of its intended severity.
+
+As they were driving through the grove before reaching the house it
+was quite dark, and they heard an owl hooting in one of the trees.
+
+"I see yer keep on sayin' yer sass," said Daddy Jake, addressing the
+owl. "Ef'n I'd er done happen ter all you is 'bout'n hit, I'd let hit
+erlone myse'f."
+
+"What's he sayin'?" asked Diddie.
+
+"Wy, don't yer hyear him, honey, er sayin',
+
+  'Who cooks fur you-oo-a?
+   Who cooks fur you-oo-a?
+   Ef you'll cook for my folks,
+   Den I'll cook fur y' all-l-lll?'
+
+"Well, hit wuz 'long er dat very chune wat he los' his eyes, an' can't
+see no mo' in de daytime; an' ev'n I wuz him, I'd let folks' cookin'
+erlone."
+
+"Can't you tell us about it, Daddy?" asked Dumps.
+
+"I ain't got de time now," said the old man, "caze hyear's de wagin
+almos' at de do'; an', let erlone dat, I ain't nuber hyeard 'twus good
+luck ter be tellin' no tales on de Fourf uv July; but ef'n yer kin
+come ter my cabin some ebenin' wen yer's er airin' uv yerse'fs, den
+I'll tell yer jes wat I hyearn 'bout'n de owl, an 'struck yer in er
+many er thing wat yer don't know now."
+
+And now the wagon stopped at the back gate, and the little girls and
+Mammy and the little darkies got out, and Mammy made the children say
+good-night to Daddy Jake and Uncle Rob, and they all went into the
+house very tired and very sleepy, and very dirty with their
+celebration of "Marse Fofer July's burfday."
+
+  CHAPTER XVI
+
+ "'STRUCK'N UV DE CHIL'EN"
+
+IT was several days before the children could get off to Daddy Jake's
+cabin to hear about the owl; but on Saturday evening, after dinner,
+Mammy said they might go; and, having promised to go straight to Daddy
+Jake's house, and to come home before dark, they all started off.
+
+Daddy Jake was the oldest negro on the plantation-- perhaps the oldest
+in the State. He had been raised by Major Waldron's grandfather in
+Virginia, and remembered well the Revolutionary War; and then he had
+been brought to Mississippi by Major Waldron's father, and remembered
+all about the War of 1812 and the troubles with the Indians. It had
+been thirty years or more since Daddy Jake had done any work. He had a
+very comfortable cabin; and although his wives (for the old man had
+been married several times) were all dead, and many of his children
+were now old and infirm, he had a number of grandchildren and
+great-grand-children who attended to his wants; and then, too, his
+master cared very particularly for his comfort, and saw that Daddy
+Jake had good fires, and that his clothes were kept clean and mended,
+and his food nicely cooked; so the old man passed his days in peace
+and quiet.
+
+The children found him now lying stretched out on a bench in front of
+his cabin, while Polly, his great-grand-daughter, was scratching and
+"looking" his head.
+
+"We've come for you to tell us about the Owl, Daddy," said Diddie,
+after she had given the old man some cake and a bottle of muscadine
+wine that her mother had sent to him.
+
+"All right, little misses," replied Daddy; and, sitting up on the
+bench, he lifted Tot beside him, while Diddie and Dumps sat on the
+door-sill, and Dilsey and Chris and Riar and Polly sat flat on the
+ground.
+
+"Well, yer see de Owl," began Daddy Jake, "he usen fur ter see in de
+daytime des same ez he do now in de night; an' one time he wuz in his
+kitchen er cookin' uv his dinner, wen hyear come de Peafowl er
+struttin' by. Well, in dem days de Peafowl he nuber had none er dem
+eyes on his tail wat he got now; his tail wuz des er clean blue."
+
+"Did you see him, Daddy?" interrupted Dumps.
+
+"No, honey, I ain't seed 'im wen he wuz dat way; dat wuz fo' my time;
+but den I know hit's de truf, do; his tail wuz er clar blue dout'n no
+eyes on it; an' he wuz er pow'ful proud bird, an', 'stid er him
+'ten'in ter his bizness, he des prumeraded de streets an' de roads,
+an' he felt hisse'f too big fur ter ten' ter his wuck. Well, de Owl
+knowed dat, an' so wen he seed de Peafowl walkin' by so big, an' him
+in de kitchen er cookin', it kinter hu't his feelin's, so he tuck'n
+holler'd at de Peafowl,
+
+  "'Whooo cooks fur you-oo-a?
+    Whooo cooks fur you-oo-a?
+    I cooks fur my folks,
+    But who cooks fur y' all-ll-l?'
+
+"Now he jes done dat out'n pyo' sass'ness, caze he knowed de Peafowl
+felt hisse'f 'bove cookin'; an' wen de Peafowl hyeard dat, he 'gun ter
+git mad; an' he 'lowed dat ef'n de Owl said dat ter him ergin dey'd be
+er fuss on his han's. Well, de nex' day de Owl seed him comin,' an' he
+'gun fer ter scrape out'n his pots an' skillets, an' ez he scrape 'em
+he holler'd out,
+
+  "'Whoo cooks fur you-oo-a?
+    Whoo cooks fur you-oo-a?
+    Ef you'll cook fur my folks,
+    Den I'll cook fur y' all-l-lll.'
+
+"An' wid dat de Peafowl tuck'n bounct him; an' dar dey had it, er
+scrougin' an' peckin an er clawin' uv one nudder; an' somehow, in de
+skrummidge, de Owl's eyes dey got skwushed on ter de Peafowl's tail,
+an' fur er long time he couldn't see nuffin' 'tall; but de rattlesnake
+doctored on him."
+
+"The rattlesnake?" asked Diddie, in horror.
+
+"Hit's true, des like I'm tellin' yer," said Daddy; "hit wuz de
+rattlesnake; an' dey's de bes' doctor dey is 'mongst all de beases.
+Yer may see him creepin' 'long thu de grass like he don't know
+nuffin', but he kin doctor den."
+
+"How does he doctor, Daddy?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Now you chil'en look er hyear," said the old man; "I ain't gwine ter
+tell yer all I know 'bout'n de rattlesnake; dar's some things fur ter
+tell, and den ergin dar's some things fur ter keep ter yerse'f; an'
+wat dey is twix' me an' de rattlesnake, hit's des twix' me'n him; an'
+you ain't de fust ones wat want ter know an' couldn't. Yer may ax, but
+axin' ain't findin' out den; an', mo'n dat, ef'n I'm got ter be
+bothered wid axin' uv questions, den I ain't gwine obstruck yer, dat's
+all."
+
+The children begged his pardon, and promised not to interrupt again,
+and Daddy Jake continued his story.
+
+"Yes, de rattlesnake doctored on him, an' atter er wile he got so he
+could see some uv nights; but he can't see much in de daytime, do; an'
+ez fur de Peafowl, he shuck an' he shuck his tail, but dem spots is
+dar tell yit! An' wen he foun' he couldn't git 'em off, den he g'un
+ter 'ten like he wuz glad uv 'em on dar, and dat wat makes him spread
+his tail and ac' so foolish in de spring uv de year.
+
+"Dey's er heap uv de beases done ruint deyse'fs wid dey cuttin's up
+an' gwines on," continued Daddy Jake. "Now dar's de Beaver, he usen
+fur ter hab er smoove roun' tail des like er 'possum's, wat wuz er
+heap handier fur him ter tote dan dat flat tail wat he got now; but
+den he wouldn't let de frogs erlone: he des tored down dey houses an'
+devilled 'em, till dey 'lowed dey wouldn't stan' it; an' so, one
+moonshiny night, wen he wuz er stan'in on de bank uv er mighty
+swif'-runnin' creek, ole Brer Bullfrog he hollered at him,
+
+"'Come over! come over!'
+
+"He knowed de water wuz too swiff fur de beaver, but den he 'lowed ter
+pay him back fur tearin' down his house. Well, de Beaver he stood dar
+er lookin' at de creek, an' by'mby he axes,
+
+"'How deep is it?'
+
+"'Knee-deep, knee-deep,' answered the little frogs. An' de Bullfrogs,
+dey kep' er sayin, 'Come over, come over," an' de little frogs kep' er
+hollin', 'Jus' knee-deep; jus' knee-deep,' tell de Beaver he pitched
+in fur ter swim 'cross; an', gemmun, de creek wuz so deep, an de water
+so swiff, tell hit put 'im up ter all he knowed. He had ter strain an'
+ter wrestle wid dat water tell hit flattent his tail out same ez er
+shobel, an' er little mo'n he'd er los' his life; but hit larnt him er
+lesson. I ain't nuber hyeard uv his meddlin' wid nuffin' fum dat time
+ter dis, but, I tell yer, in de hot summer nights, wen he hatter drag
+dat flat tail uv his'n atter him ev'ywhar he go, 'stid er havin' er
+nice handy tail wat he kin turn ober his back like er squ'l, I lay
+yer, mun, he's wusht er many er time he'd er kep' his dev'lment ter
+hisse'f, an' let dem frogs erlone."
+
+Here Daddy Jake happened to look down, and he caught Polly nodding.
+
+"Oh yes!" said the old man, "yer may nod; dat's des wat's de matter
+wid de niggers now, dem sleepy-head ways wat dey got is de cazhun uv
+dey hyar bein' kunkt up an' dey skins bein' black."
+
+"Is that what makes it, Daddy?" asked Diddie, much interested.
+
+"Ub cose hit is," replied Daddy. "Ef'n de nigger hadn't ben so
+sleepy-headed, he'd er ben white, an' his hyar'd er ben straight des
+like yourn. Yer see, atter de Lord make 'im, den he lont him up 'gins
+de fence-corner in de sun fur ter dry; an' no sooner wuz de Lord's
+back turnt, an' de sun 'gun ter come out kin'er hot, dan de nigger he
+'gun ter nod, an' er little mo'n he wuz fas' ter sleep. Well, wen de
+Lord sont atter 'im fur ter finish uv 'im up, de angel couldn't fin'
+'im, caze he didn't know de zack spot whar de Lord sot 'im; an' so he
+hollered an' called, an' de nigger he wuz 'sleep, an' he nuber hyeard
+'im; so de angel tuck de white man, an' cyard him 'long, an' de Lord
+polished uv 'im off. Well, by'mby de nigger he waked up; but, dar now!
+he wuz bu'nt black, an' his hyar wuz all swuv'llt up right kinky.
+
+"De Lord, seein, he wuz spilte, he didn't 'low fur ter finish 'im, an'
+wuz des 'bout'n ter thow 'im 'way, wen de white man axt fur 'im; so de
+Lord he finished 'im up des like he wuz, wid his skin black an' his
+hyar kunkt up, an' he gun 'im ter de white man, an' I see he's got 'im
+plum tell yit."
+
+"Was it you, Daddy?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Wy , no, honey, hit wan't me, hit wuz my forecisters."
+
+"What's a forecister, Daddy?" asked Diddie, rather curious about the
+relationship.
+
+"Yer forecisters," explained Daddy, "is dem uv yer way back folks,
+wat's born'd fo' you is yerse'f, an' fo' yer pa is. Now, like my ole
+marster, yer pa's gran'pa, wat riz me in ole Furginny, he's you
+chil'en's forecister; an' dis nigger wat I'm tellin' yer 'bout'n, he
+waz my fuss forecister; an' dats' de way dat I've allers hyearn dat he
+come ter be black, an' his hyar kinky; an' I b'lieves hit, too, caze
+er nigger's de sleepies'-headed critter dey is; an' den, 'sides dat'
+I've seed er heap er niggers in my time, but I ain't nuber seed dat
+nigger yit wat's wite, an' got straight hyar on his head.
+
+"Now I ain't er talkin' 'bout'n murlatters, caze dey ain't no reg'lar
+folks 'tall; dey's des er mixtry. Dey ain't white, an' dey ain't
+black, an' dey ain't nuffin'; dey's des de same kin' er folks ez de
+muel is er horse!
+
+"An' den dar's Injuns; dey's ergin ernudder kin' er folks.
+
+"I usen ter hyear 'em say dat de deb'l made de fuss Injun. He seed de
+Lord er makin' folks, an' he 'lowed he'd make him some; so he got up
+his dut and his water, an' all his 'grejunces, an' he went ter wuck;
+an' wedder he cooked him too long, ur wedder he put in too much red
+clay fur de water wat he had, wy, I ain't nuber hyeard; but den I
+known de deb'l made 'im, caze I allers hyearn so; an', mo'n dat, I
+done seed 'em fo' now, an' dey got mighty dev'lish ways. I wuz wid yer
+gran'pa at Fort Mimms, down erbout Mobile, an' I seed 'em killin'
+folks an' sculpin' uv 'em; an, mo'n dat, ef'n I hadn't er crope under
+er log, an' flattent myse'f out like er allergator, dey'd er got me;
+an' den, ergin, dey don't talk like no folks. I met er Injun one time
+in de road, an' I axed 'im wuz he de man wat kilt an' sculpt Sis Leah,
+wat usen ter b'longst ter yer gran'pa, an' wat de Injuns kilt. I axt
+'im 'ticklur, caze I had my axe erlong, an' ef'n he wuz de man, I
+'lowed fur ter lay him out. But, bless yer life, chile, he went on fur
+ter say,
+
+"'Ump, ump, kinterlosha wannycoola tusky noba, inickskymuncha
+fluxkerscenuck kintergunter skoop.'
+
+"An' wen he sed dat, I tuck'n lef' him, caze I seed hit wouldn't do
+fur ter fool 'long him; an', mo'n dat, he 'gun fur ter shine his eyes
+out, an' so I des off wid my hat, an' scrape my lef' foot, an' said,
+'Good ebenin', marster,' same ez ef he wuz er white man; an' den I
+tuck thu de woods tell I come ter de fork-han's een er road, an' I
+eberlastin' dusted fum dar! I put deze feets in motion, yer hyeard me!
+an' I kep' 'em er gwine, too, tell I come ter de outskirts uv de
+quarters; an' eber sence den I ain't stopped no Injun wat I sees in de
+road, an' I ain't meddled 'long o' who kilt Sis Leah, nudder, caze
+she's ben in glory deze fifty years or mo', an' hit's all one to her
+now who sculpt her."
+
+But now, as it was getting late, Daddy said he was afraid to stay out
+in the night air, as it sometimes "gun him de rheumatiz," and wound up
+his remarks by saying,
+
+"Tell yer ma I'm mighty 'bleeged fur de cake an' drinkin's, an'
+weneber yer gits de time, an' kin come down hyear any ebenin', de ole
+man he'll 'struck yer, caze he's gwine erway fo' long, an' dem things
+wat he knows is onbeknownst ter de mos' uv folks."
+
+"Where are you going, Daddy," asked Diddie.
+
+"I gwine ter de 'kingdum,' honey, an' de Lord knows hit's time; I ben
+hyear long ernuff; but hit's 'bout time fur me ter be er startin' now,
+caze las' Sat'dy wuz er week gone I wuz er stretchin' my ole legs in
+de fiel', an' er rabbit run right ercross de road foreninst me, an' I
+knowed it wuz er sho' sign uv er death; an' den, night fo' las', de
+scritch-owls wuz er talkin' ter one ernudder right close ter my do',
+an' I knowed de time wuz come fur de ole nigger ter take dat trip; so,
+ef'n yer wants him ter 'struck yer, yer'd better be er ten'in' ter it,
+caze wen de Lord sen's fur 'im he's er gwine."
+
+The children were very much awed at Daddy's forebodings, and Dumps
+insisted on shaking hands with him, as she felt that she would
+probably never see him again, and they all bade him good-night, and
+started for the house
+
+"Miss Diddie, did you know ole Daddy wuz er trick nigger?" asked
+Dilsey, as they left the old man's cabin.
+
+"What's er trick nigger?" asked Dumps.
+
+"Wy, don't yer know, Miss Dumps? Trick niggers dey ties up snakes'
+toofs an' frogs' eyes an' birds' claws, an' all kineter charms; an'
+den, wen dey gits mad 'long o' folks, dey puts dem little bags under
+dey do's, or in de road somewhar, whar dey'll hatter pass, an' dem
+folks wat steps ober 'em den dey's tricked; an' dey gits sick, an' dey
+can't sleep uv nights, an' dey chickens all dies, an' dey can't nuber
+hab no luck nor nuf'n tell de tricks is tuck off. Didn't yer hyear wat
+he said 'bout'n de snakes' an' de folks all sez ez how ole Daddy is er
+trick nigger, an' dat's wat makes him don't die."
+
+"Well, I wish I was a trick nigger, then," remarked Dumps, gravely.
+
+"Lordy, Miss Dumps, yer'd better not be er talkin' like dat," said
+Dilsey, her eyes open wide in horror. "Hit's pow'ful wicked ter be
+trick niggers."
+
+"I don't know what's the matter with Dumps," said Diddie; "she's
+gettin' ter be so sinful; an' ef she don't stop it, I sha'n't sleep
+with her. She'll be er breakin' out with the measles or sump'n some uv
+these days, jes fur er judgment on her; an' I don't want ter be
+catchin' no judgments just on account of her badness."
+
+"Well, I'll take it back, Diddie," humbly answered Dumps. "I didn't
+know it was wicked; and won't you sleep with me now?"
+
+Diddie having promised to consider the matter, the little folks walked
+slowly on to the house, Dilsey and Chris and Riar all taking turns in
+telling them the wonderful spells and cures and troubles that Daddy
+Jake had wrought with his "trick-bags."
+
+  CHAPTER XVII
+
+ WHAT BECAME OF THEM
+
+WELL, of course, I can't tell you all that happened to these little
+girls. I have tried to give you some idea of how they lived in their
+Mississippi home, and I hope you have been amused and entertained; and
+now as "Diddie" said about her book, I've got to "wind up," and tell
+you what became of them.
+
+The family lived happily on the plantation until the war broke out in
+1861.
+
+Then Major Waldron clasped his wife to his heart, kissed his
+daughters, shook hands with his faithful slaves, and went as a soldier
+to Virginia; and he is sleeping now on the slope of Malvern Hill,
+where he
+
+  "Nobly died for Dixie."
+
+The old house was burned during the war, and on the old plantation
+where that happy home once stood there are now three or four chimneys
+and an old tumbled-down gin-house. That is all.
+
+The agony of those terrible days of war, together with the loss of her
+husband and home, broke the heart and sickened the brain of Mrs.
+Waldron; and in the State Lunatic Asylum is an old white-haired woman,
+with a weary, patient look in her eyes, and this gentle old woman, who
+sits day after day just looking out at the sunshine and the flowers,
+is the once beautiful "mamma" of Diddie, Dumps and Tot.
+
+Diddie grew up to be a very pretty, graceful woman, and when the war
+began was in her eighteenth year. She was engaged to one of the young
+men in the neighborhood; and though she was so young, her father
+consented to the marriage, as her lover was going into the army, and
+wanted to make her his wife before leaving. So, early in '61, before
+Major Waldron went to Virginia, there was a quiet wedding in the
+parlor one night; and not many days afterwards the young Confederate
+soldier donned his gray coat, and rode away with Forrest's Cavalry.
+
+  "And ere long a messenger came,
+   Bringing the sad, sad story--
+   A riderless horse: a funeral march:
+   Dead on the field of glory!"
+
+After his death her baby came to gladden the young widow's desolate
+life; and he is now almost grown, handsome and noble, and the idol of
+his mother.
+
+Diddie is a widow still. She was young and pretty when the war ended,
+and has had many offers of marriage; but a vision of a cold white
+face, with its fair hair dabbled in blood, is ever in her heart. So
+Diddie lives for her boy. Their home is in Natchez now; for of course
+they could never live in the old place any more. When the slaves were
+free, they had no money to rebuild the houses, and the plantation has
+never been worked since the war.
+
+The land is just lying there useless, worthless; and the squirrels
+play in and out among the trees, and the mocking-birds sing in the
+honeysuckles and magnolias and rose-bushes where the front yard used
+to be.
+
+And at the quarters, where the happy slave-voices used to sing "Monkey
+Motions," and the merry feet used to dance to "Cotton-eyed Joe," weeds
+and thick underbrush have all grown up, and partridges build their
+nests there; and sometimes, at dusk, a wild-cat or a fox may be seen
+stealing across the old playground.
+
+Tot, long years ago, before the war even, when she was yet a pure,
+sinless little girl, was added to that bright band of angel children
+who hover around the throne of God; and so she was already there, you
+see, to meet and welcome her "papa" when his stainless soul went up
+from Malvern Hill.
+
+Well, for "Mammy" and "Daddy Jake" and "Aunt Milly" and "Uncle Dan'l,"
+"dat angel" has long since "blowed de horn," and I hope and believe
+they are happily walking "dem golden streets" in which they had such
+implicit faith, and of which they never wearied of telling.
+
+And the rest of the negroes are all scattered; some doing well, some
+badly; some living, some dead. Aunt Sukey's Jim, who married Candace
+that Christmas-night, is a politician. He has been in Legislature, and
+spends his time in making long and exciting speeches to the loyal
+leaguers against the Southern whites, all unmindful of his happy
+childhood, and of the kind and generous master who strove in every way
+to render his bondage (for which that master was in no way to blame) a
+light and happy one.
+
+Uncle Snake-bit Bob is living still. He has a little candy-store in a
+country town. He does not meddle with politics. He says, "I don't cas'
+my suffrins fur de Dimercracks, nur yit fur de 'Publicans. I can't go
+'ginst my color by votin' de Dimercrack papers; an' ez fur dem
+'Publicans! Well, ole Bob he done hyear wat de Book say 'boutn
+publicans an' sinners, an' dat's ernuff fur him. He's er gittin'
+uperds in years now; pretty soon he'll hatter shove off fur dat
+'heb'nly sho'," an' wen de Lord sen' atter him, he don't want dat
+angel ter catch him in no kinwunshuns 'long wid 'publicans an'
+sinners.'" And so Uncle Bob attends to his store, and mends chairs and
+tubs, and deals extensively in chickens and eggs; and perhaps he is
+doing just as well as if he were in Congress.
+
+Dilsey and Chris and Riar are all women now, and are all married and
+have children of their own; and nothing delights them more than to
+tell their little ones what "us an' de white chil'en usen ter do."
+
+And the last I heard of Aunt Nancy, the "tender," she was going to
+school, but not progressing very rapidly. She did learn her letters
+once, but, having to stop school to make a living, she soon forgot
+them, and she explained it by saying:
+
+"Yer see, honey, dat man wat larnt me dem readin's, he wuz sich er
+onstedfus' man, an' gittin' drunk, an' votin' an' sich, tell I
+furgittin' wat he larnt me; but dey's er colored gemman fum de Norf
+wat's tuck him up er pay-school ober hyear in de 'catermy, an' ef'n I
+kin git him fur ter take out'n his pay in dat furmifuge wat I makes, I
+'low ter go ter him er time er two, caze he's er membah ub de Zion
+Chu'ch, an' er mighty stedfus' man, an' dat wat he larns me den I'll
+stay larnt."
+
+And Dumps? Well, the merry, lighthearted little girl is an "old maid"
+now; and if Mammy could see her, she would think she was "steady"
+enough at last.
+
+Somebody, you know, must attend to the wants and comforts of the
+gray-haired woman in the asylum; and Diddie had her boy to support and
+educate, so Dumps teaches school and takes care of her mother, and is
+doing what Uncle Snake-bit Bob told the Sunday-school children that
+God had made them to do; for
+
+  Dumps is doing "DE BES' SHE KIN."
+
+ THE END
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DIDDIE, DUMPS, AND TOT ***
+
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