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Tom Cringle says that no one can fathom a negro's affection for a pig; and I believe he is right, for it almost broke our poor darky's heart when he heard that Bess was to be taken ashore, and that he was to have the care of her no more during the whole voyage. He had depended upon her as a solace, during the long trips up and down the coast. "Obey orders, if you break owners!" said he.

Then she went into the breakfast-room. "Uncle Billy," she said severely, "didn't I tell you not to let Saty out?" "Yes, Miss Dinnie," said the old butler. "Didn't I tell you I was goin' to whoop you if you let Saty out?" "Yes, Miss Dinnie." Miss Dinnie pulled forth from her Christmas treasures a toy riding-whip and the old darky's eyes began to roll in mock terror.

Ah'm gwine make a fo'tune dis yeh trip, Ah am. Yass, sah. Dis yeh nigger's gwine go home putty darn well off. Yass, sah. So don't you think dis yeh nigger's gwine do nothin' foh you. No, sah." For a moment I was completely bewildered; then, as I recalled the darky's crafty and indirect ways, my confidence returned and I had the keenest curiosity to see what would be forthcoming.

A few minutes later the boy was devouring cornbread and bacon so ravenously that again he saw suspicion in the old darky's eyes, and for that reason when he struck the turnpike again he turned once more into the fields. The foot-hills were in sight now, and from the top of a little wooded eminence he saw the beginning of the dirt road and he almost shouted his gladness aloud.

It was on the floor a few yards from the body. You saw me when I picked it up. You were at the telephone." "That's right. I remember now. By cracky! That came off of some darky's working clothes. That's sure!" "The only trouble is," puzzled Bristow, "your negro doesn't wear overalls at night after he has finished work. He dresses up and loafs down town." "That's true on Saturday nights.

Heatherbloom, although inwardly chafing, felt obliged to restrain impatience; he could not afford to awaken the darky's suspicions, therefore he simulated interest and "crabbed". He enjoyed a streak of good luck, but his artificial enthusiasm soon waned. He at length suggested trying the other side of the island, whereupon his pilot expostulated. What more did his passenger want?

The old darky's face was one broad grin from ear to ear. The judge unrolled a map and placed it on a flat rock with a stone at each corner. Then he untied the package, selected an ink-stained and faded document marked "Deed John Carter to E. A. Barbour," and ran his eye along the quaint page, reading as he went:

Mammy!" she screamed, lying face downward on the floor with the overturned footstool and broken pitcher, while the steaming water soaked through the cotton dress. In a moment Sylvia was out of bed. "Get up, Estralla," she commanded, "and stop screaming." The little darky's wails ceased, and she looked up at the slender white figure standing in front of her.

"A miss is as good as a mile," laughed Watson, as he stood with his two companions in the pitch black interior of the cabin, listening to the last faint sounds of the retreating Vigilants. "There's nothing like smallpox, eh?" said George. "Or nothing like a boy who can imitate a darky's voice," put in Macgreggor. "Where did you learn the art, George?"

George was facing the door, ready to leave the house, his shoulders still bent forward so that Todd could adjust his heavy cloak the better, when for the first time the anxious tone in Pawson's voice caught his attention. As the words fell from the attorney's lips he straightened, and Todd stepped back, the garment still in the darky's hands. "An applicant for what?" he inquired in a graver tone.