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Fair linen and a sufficiency of other plain wearing-apparel, including summer gowns, I found laid carefully in my drawers, and the Creole negress brought in my clothes well ironed and carefully mended, to be laid away by the orderly hands of Mrs. Clayton.

"For a walk." The old negress tilted her head aslant and looked fixedly at him. "You's gwine to dat Cissie Dildine's, Peter." Peter looked at his mother, surprised and rather disconcerted that she had guessed his intentions from his mere footsteps. The young man changed his plans for his walk, and began a diplomatic denial: "No, I'm going to walk by myself. I'm tired; I'm played out."

Everybody fears the jumbie, or evil spirit that walks the night; and the duppy, the rolling calf, the ghost of the murdered one; all pray that they may never meet the diablesse, the beautiful negress with glittering eyes, who passes silently through fields where people are at work, and smiling on any one of them compels him to follow her, where? He never returns.

Now there was a negress, by the name of Lucy, who lived in the neighborhood, and who was sent every day by her mistress to the fountain for water. Lucy came, as usual, with her pitcher on her shoulder, and just as she was about to fill it, she spied the image of the fairy in the spring. The fool, who had never seen herself, thought that the face was her own. "Poor Lucy!" she cried.

Our slaves were exhausted to the uttermost; their song, with which they were wont to cheer themselves, was never heard: their plaintive choruses never broke over the silence of Desert! It was to-day, whilst threading the precipitous mountain-path, I observed the unhappy negress, who went blind and mad by overdriving.

The lady herself is not quite a Desert maiden, skipping like a young roe over the mountains, in untutored innocence or coyish bashfulness. She is young, it is true, but full-blown and bloated, very big about, and excessively dirty and nasty. The favourite of the Mudeer is besides almost as black as a Negress, with a pock-marked face.

Aunt Eliza, a deft middle-aged negress who had succeeded Mammy Juliet as housekeeper at Deer Trace, was bending over the bed, and the physician went quickly to stand beside her, shaking his head dubiously. A moment afterward he turned short on Ardea. "You must go home, my dear at once and take the child with you. Pete is outside to help you, and my buggy is just at the foot of the path.

The poor negress could only limp along, and Philammon, unarmed, looked back, and saw the bright steel points gleaming in the moonlight, and made up his mind to die as a monk should. Nevertheless, youth is hopeful. One chance for life.

"Why do you laugh, negress?" "You have not said your prayers for three days." His father refused. Angered, Aly procured a gun, engraved his name upon it, and betook himself to the chase. You ask the gun I have that bears my name. I will not give it, save against my will. How comes it, father, that you treat me thus? You say, "Bring back the gun to put in pledge."

Here is Chloe waiting to speak to you, aunts. She has come with me all the way." The old negress, who had been waiting in the passage, was now called in. "Why, Chloe, you look no older than when you went away from here six years ago," Miss Kingston said. "But how did you get through the lines? We have been terribly anxious about you.