Miss Marg’retta wuz ve’y fon’ ub Saul, an’ when he run erway hit ’stress huh pow’ful. Uh showman cum ’long wid uh circus an’ ’swaded po’ Saul ter go. Miss Marg’retta teach him ter read an’ rite, kase da wuz recommembrances clustah’d ’roun’ Saul’s mammy dat made Miss Marg’retta fon’ ub de chile. Lars’ week I had uh lettah fum de po’ boy, rote fum Balt’mo’. Mars Pinckney red hit fuh me, an’ hit say dat when de circus got ter Balt’mo’ de showman sot him ter wuck feedin’ de snakes. Saul’s letter spressify dat he lef’ dat circus in uh run! Saul al’ays wuz smart. He! He! He! Ef’n he had fed dem snakes, he mite bin ’flicted like Uncle Snake-bit Jim.

Arfter uh few days Saul say he got de place ub waitah on uh tugboat; uh nice place, but de lettah say he wuz so sad an’ lonesom’ he wuz mos’ dead. (’Skuse meh cryin’, Muhtilda.) He say he misses de ribber so—de cluckin’ hens, crowin’ roostus, de calbes moanin’ fuh deah ma’s, de sweet little skippin’ lam’s an’ de singin’ birds—but he say he mos’ miss Mars Nickey’s houn’s, an’ dat he will nebber refuse ter hunt fuh hens’ nesses fuh he aunty ef’n he kin git home, but he sho’ Ole Mars won’ let his foot tech Woodstock.

Fus’ I tho’t ub gwine ter Ole Mistis, but she so sad I ’cided not ter trubble huh. Muhtilda, she will nebber git ober de deaf ub Mars Francis. Ev’y day befo’ he died she teck uh barsket on huh ahm, pahr cissers in huh han’, an’ go ter de gyarden befo’ de jewdraps of’n de flowers, an’ wid dem cissers she wud cut wiolets, heal’trope, ’benas, sweet-lizziums, roses an’ udder sweet flowers, tell de barsket full. Den Mistis wud meck ’em in bokays, an’ meck me ty ’em wid lamp wick. You see hit’s sorf, an’ don’ squench de flowers. Dem days I had ter put one ub de bokays in ev’y room, but dese days she don’ hab no bokays; jes’ puts all dem flowers ev’y mawnin’ on Mars Francis’ grabe.

Whenebber I tho’t ub po’ Saul meh hyart got sick; ’pears ter me ’twuz sick all de time. So I wa’k up an’ down de gyarden prayin’ sorf ter mehsef, thinkin’ an’ thinkin’, so I ’cluded ter see Ole Mars, an’ bine meh haid up’n uh hankcheah an’ wen’ ter see Ole Mars erboutin Saul. He wuz gwine fox huntin’, wuz settin’ in de hall, Damon wuz puttin’ on he spuhs, when I wa’k in, made uh curchysy an’ cummenc’ ter cry an’ limp. Ole Mars lif’ up he hainsome face an’ say:

“Well, Sookey, what’s de matter?”

I say, “I heahd fum Saul; it meck me so ’stressed an’ po’ly, Marster. He say he so rejected an’ lonesom’, dat his hyart mos’ breck. He wan’ ter cum home.”

Den Marster cuss an’ say: “Wha de scan’lus scoun’l at?”

An’ I say wid meh hankcheah ter meh eyes, “Balt’mo’.”

Den Ole Marster say: “Sookey, Saul’s muvva Nancy (yo’ sistah) wuz uh splendid ’ooman; nuss’d yo’ Miss Marg’retta when she had de scarlet fevah. Saul wuz uh baby, an’ she mos’ fogot Saul, she wuz so faithful ter yo’ Miss Marg’retta.”

Den I say: “’Zac’ly so, precisely, Marster!”

Den he say: “Nancy kotch de fevah an’ died; yo’ Miss Marg’retta wuz so ’stracted she mos’ ’dopted dat chile—tech him ter read an’ rite.” Den Mars Nickey cuss ergin an’ say: “Eddication mecks niggahs bad!”

Den I say: “So hit do, Marster, so hit do; fuh hit sut’ny meck Saul bad. Fuh he wuz riz so careful. Miss Marg’retta ebin bo’t him uh nanny-goat fuh uh wet nuss, an’ dey got so fon’ one nerr dat when Saul wud tottle outin de quartah de goat wud ’mejately nanny, twinkle huh little tail jes’ like uh aspine leaf, run up ter de chile, an’ he wud set un’er dat goat, nuss huh hissef, an’ pat he han’s on de goat’s sides. It mecks me think ub yo’ son Mars Francis what died. I nuss him tell he so big he hab teef. When he wuz horngry he wud run up ter me same ez uh little lam’, pat meh bresses when he nussin’, same ez Saul did de goat’s sides, an’ sometimes when he feel sassy—mos’ got ernuff (jes’ playin’ wid de milk)—he wud bite me. An’ many uh time I had ter smack him hyard; an’ den his brite eyes, brite ez uh fish-hawk’s, but big an’ sorf, wud fill up wid teahs. Den he wud git in meh lap, pat meh ole face an’ say, ‘Mammy! Mammy!’ play wid an’ put he fingah froo meh earring, jes’ ez gentle an’ lubbin ez uh cherrypin er serrypin. My! he little fingah jes’ ez smoobe ez de inside ub uh oyster shell. Den I sing, ‘Git on bode, little chillun.’ Den he go ter sleep, an’ he bref on meh cheek jes’ ez sorf ez de down on uh goslin’.” Den I say, “Mars Nickey, he wuz de ve’y spit ub you!”

Den Mars Nickey teck out his silk hankcheah, wipe he weepin’ eye, trem’lin mouf, an’ he say, “Sookey, teck uh seat!”

Jes’ think ub meh settin’ down befo’ Ole Mars! Den he teck uh pinch ub snuff, th’ow some on de flounces ub he shut, call Damon an’ say, “Bring me some peach an’ honey!”

Den he say: “I will ’struct Cap’n Stitchberry, de fus’ time de Margaret Jane sails fuh Balt’mo’, futto bring Saul home, but he kyant lib heah wid meh good an’ faithful serbents; he got ter lib at ‘Fausley,’ drap cawn, plough—be wuf sompin’. Kyant hab any mo’ boots. Tho’ Nancy wuz his mother, got ter weah shoes; I only gib de bes’ serbents boots!”

Muhtilda, I jes’ natchelly swep’ de flo’ wid meh curchysys, I feel so thankful. An’ when I lef’ I say: “Meh Marster, yo’ mo’ an’ mo’ like Mars Francis ev’y day; same brite eyes, like uh fish-hawk’s, but sorf an’ big!”

Den Ole Mars teck nubba pinch ub snuff, dust he shut flounces wid it, cut hissef on de leg wid he ridin’ whup an’ say: “Sookey, I change meh mine; when Saul cum back he kin wuck in de gyardin wid yo’ husban’, Stephen.”

When I wen’ out de do’ da wuz Cap’n Stitchberry stan’in’ befo’ de steps wid he haid orncover’d waitin’ fuh his orders fum Mars Nickey; Stephen wuz holdin’ Sylph, Marster’s favorite mare; Music, Jerry-Myah, Sweet-lips, Jefferson, Chimes, an’ all de res’ ub de houn’s (Ole Mars wudn’ let you call ’em dogs) wuz playin’ erroun’ Stephen, chunin’ up, an’ Sylph wuz almos’ crazy fuh Ole Mars ter git in de saddle—she jes’ scorn de yearth when she gallopin’ an’ cud almos’ jump ober de moon. Well, I felt ez prowd an’ happy ez Sylph an’ de houn’s did, kase, Muhtilda, ev’ything look’d lubly ter me. So I meck up meh mind I ain’ gwine ter scold Stephen any mo’—he did look so peart, holdin’ Sylph wid uh yaller wes’ Ole Marster jes’ gib him. But what meck me mos’ happy, I heahd de wabes moanin’, I luck at de ribber, an’ da wuz de Margaret Jane wid huh sails sot, jes’ prancin’. I knew’d what dat signify—so hit won’ be long befo’ Saul cum back.

Saul sing songs, play de hohn dat Little Billy gib him, wid locks an’ keys, dances, too. How-some-eber, hit’s jes’ what de qual’ty do; but da ain’ nuffin wichious erboutin Saul, an’ I sut’ny has miss him pow’ful. Da ain’ uh houn’ on dis place dat ain’ look sad sence Saul lef’. When dey cum home wid deah sore feet, ears an’ legs all scratch up, full ub briars, Saul, ’doutin Ole Mars habin’ ter tell him ev’y day, biles uh pot ub squaw-root, baves dem houn’s feet an’ legs, an’ you kin see dem settin’ ’roun’ waitin’ fuh deah turn.

Heah cum Ole Miss now; look at dem chickins an’ de cows all lookin’ at huh—ub cose meckin’ mirations ter deahsebs erbout huh. Dat lady behin’ wid uh barsket on huh ahm an’ all dem keys on huh ap’on strings, is Miss Betsey Orsman, de housekeeper. Dey bin ter kivver all dat grabe ub Mars Francis wid flowers—’ceppin’ de toomstone. De vusses on hit ev’y serbent in dis house has larnt. Think ub dat!

“Kyant you say ’em, Aunt Sookey?”

“Yas, indeed, chile, dat I kin; but I will arsk Miss Betsey arfter Ole Miss gits by. Honey, she’s uh ’citer; she jes’ gibs huhsef up ter glory when she speechifyin’. I will ax huh kase she likes ter say it.

“Miss Betsey, will you say dem vusses what’s on Mars Francis’ toomstone?”

“Why, certainly, Sookey; now listen good:

“Miss Betsy is an ole maid, Muhtilda. De reason she’s wa’kin’ fum us so slow is kase she’s meddowtatin’. Dey tell me dat one time Cap’n Stitchberry wuz in lub wid huh, but he gib huh up kase she tu fon’ ub vusses; an’ he tell Mars Pinckney dat she lubbed him tu much. She’s ve’y fon’ ub Mars Pinckney, an’ don’ mine his teasin’, so de udder day he tole huh—

“Now, wan’ dat sassy?

“Saul wuz pow’ful fon’ ub cracklin’-pone wid mullasses, an’ I gwine dis minit futto meck uh pone fuh dat po’ boy. I’s bin watchin’ de ribber all de mawnin’. It wudn’ s’prise me ef’n de Margaret Jane cum in de ribber befo’ de sun sot; so don’ you go home, Muhtilda. Den I will sen’ fuh Little Billy futto tell us some stories; Susan fum Mars Carroll’s is cummin ober—ub cose Ezra Viney will keep comp’ny wid huh; an’ lars’, but not leas’, Stephen got three dozen sorf crabs, six watahmillions an’ two ole hens I kilt yistiddy dat had stopped layin’. So we will hab uh happy time eben ef’n Saul don’ cum ter night.

“Dar’s Billy now, talkin’ ter Juba Viney; got his banjo hung ’roun’ his neck. Dem’s mus’rat hides he’s got tied ’roun’ his wais’; gwine ter Mage Rudd’s sto’, I ’specks. O—h, Billy; we are ’speckin’ Saul dis eb’nin’. Kyant you cum ober, sing us some songs an’ play us some chunes arfter Stephen goes ter set his net? He rejects ter you bein’ so pus-nal wid de witches;^[11] ain’ fogib you yit fuh gittin’ up’n dat ’simmon tree an’ sassin’ Uncle Caesar Butler.”^[12]

Billy knew Aunt Sookey would have something good for supper, and knew that she doted on Saul, so he soon turned up at her quarters, and quickly asked for Uncle Stephen, whom he knew would not welcome him.

“Da he is, jes’ paddlin’ his boat fum de sho;” responded Aunt Sookey. “Gwine ter set his net.”

Billy smelt the frying crabs, and asked in apparent ignorance: “Is you had supper, Aunt Sookey?”

“No indeed, honey; de lard jes’ cummenc’ ter bile.”

“Well, den, I will sing uh new chune I jes’ larnt, while de table gittin’ sot:

“Billy, dat’s lubly; kyant you sing jes’ one mo’ song befo’ I puts de butter on dese sorf crabs?”

“Yes’m!”

“I kyant sing an nerr vus, Aunt Sookey, kase I so horngry, an’ I kyant stay tu long kase I ain’ sot meh mus’rat gums yit, an’ I bleege ter go ter de sto’ futto sell dese hides. Mo’n dat, Mars Pinckney gwine fox hun’in’ de fus’ thing in de mawnin’ long befo’ de sun up.”

Billy ate heartily, and the jamboree was broken up by the incoming of Uncle Stephen. Billy, to be very polite to Uncle Stephen, whom he knew did not like him, said: “Uncle Stephen, I jes’ watch you all day long yistiddy ketchin’ oysters; you sut’ny kin ketch oysters.”

Uncle Stephen leaned wearily on his paddle and said: “Y-a-s, Billy! Ef’n I wuz uh chicken you wud watch me all night!”

Billy soon departed, and when he was well into the darkness, twanged his banjo and sang: