Still cuddled among the honeysuckles in the basket I was carefully lifted from the carriage.

"Please, Marm, Mistis, lemme carry de settin'-aig-basket in to Mammy Dilsey," pleaded Pery, the driver, who had taken great pride in giving me my first ride and covering me over with his cherished honeysuckle blossoms.

"Mammy's gwine to be so s'prised she'll want to knock me down. En I's gwine to look solemn en mousterious en hand her de basket en say, ''Tain't no use er yo' settin' dese yer aigs, Mammy Dilsey, for dey's already done en hatched out!' I know now jes' what she's gwine answer back. She gwine say, 'Don't you come hyer wid none o' yo' projickin', you pizen-fryin'-size-limb-er-Satan, you. Ef you does I'll smack you slab-sided into de middle of next winter!' Den I gwine say, 'Well, look for yo'se'f, Mammy Dilsey.'"

My grandmother, who not only liked to humor her servants but enjoyed the anticipated surprise he was going to give Mammy Dilsey, granted Pery's request and I was carried in and put upon Mammy's bed and the rehearsed conversation followed. Mammy Dilsey would have been more vigorous in her denunciation of that "fryin'-size" with his "lyin' en projickin'" if her eyes had not at that moment rested on my grandmother, to whom she appealed to "help her to save dat lyin'-limb-of-a-nigger fum perditionment."

"Look for yourself, Mammy Dilsey, before condemning Pery to perdition," suggested my grandmother.

Mammy looked and seeing only my leafy and blossoming cover, ejaculated scornfully:

"Aigs? Dey's honeysuckles en flowers. Dat nigga's tryin' to fool me!"

In lifting my honeysuckle blanket she pulled out my sugar rag. This loss combined with the cessation of the soothing motion of the rockaway caused me to make my presence and my grievances known by wail after wail, verifying Pery's truthfulness as to something having hatched out.

"Land sakes!" cried Mammy Dilsey. "Fo' God!—Fo' God! Well, you-all sho' ought to be ridic'lous at yo'se'fs—a humblementin' a po' li'l he'pless baby en insecatin' her lak dis! Did you-all have no pillows nor no laps to fotch de po' li'l lamb home 'pon widout puttin' her in a settin'-aig-basket? How you-all know dat some misforchunement ain't gwine to come 'count er projickin' wid her lak dat? De chile mout crow, or she mout cackle, or she mout take her arms for wings en flop 'em, or she mout peck, or eat wu'ms, or walk wid her toes stuck in'ards. She eben mout have fedders. De Lord's ways is mousterious. He don't do nuttin' out of de reg'lar Hisse'f, en you-all is done sumpn not only out of de reg'lar but onnatural, a puttin' a baby in a settin'-aig-basket. De po' li'l thing cries, too, lak 'twas starved to deaf. I s'pose Miss Lizzie didn't have no milk en maybe dat was de reason you fotch it long back wid you so dat Sis Sereny could nuss her; her twinzes bein' most de same age."

At this moment the door opened and Aunt Serena, who had already been notified of her coming duties, appeared, carrying on each arm a baby as black as the ace of spades. Without a word she laid both the babies down on Mammy Dilsey's bed and, taking me in her loving, motherly arms, set my table, and I, half starved, ravenously showed my appreciation and enjoyed my first meal at the expense of my little foster sisters, who had just been awakened by my screams.

The news of my strange arrival had spread and the whole plantation assembled to see their "young missis," crowding around in reverential admiration, while I went off into a peaceful sleep, smiling anon in that sleep, as the warm-hearted loyal negroes, from the oldest to the youngest, leaned over to look at and bless me, "old missus'es" first grandchild.

"Lord! Lord! Is dat we-alls li'l missis?" asked Uncle Charles, taking off his hat, pulling his forelock and scraping his foot as reverentially to me as if I had been a little princess. "Is dat Miss Lizzie's chile? Niggers, you-all hyer dat? Take off your hats en bow en cutchy, ebby last one er you, for dis is yo' Miss Lizzie's chile en mistisses' gran'chile, de young missis dat de Lord is done en sont down to earth for us to take a intrus' in, to work for, en to teach manners to, en to send to school. Come along now, let us all kneel down en 'semble ourse'fs in praher en concentrate our li'l missis to de bressed Lord; all 'cept'n' Sis Sereny; she's holdin' de li'l missis, so she kin set.

"Oh, Lord, de Father of de fatherless, dat letteth not a sparrow fall to de groun' widout Dy knowledge en counts de very hairs upon dar heads; disremember dis Dy he'pless chile, who has been fotch to us dis day th'oo trials en triberlations in a settin'-aig-basket. I beseech De, oh Lord, to watch over her, clothe her in raiment en vestures en feed her on manna en lead her li'l foots into de straight en narrer paths to de glory of Dy righteousness. Harken up her voice to sing Dy praises en lift up her han's to do Dy wu'k en keep her in Dy holy keepin'. Oh, Lord, bress dis our li'l baby for de sake of Dy own en Miss Mary's li'l baby, li'l Marse Jesus, amen."

"Git up fum off yo' knees now, niggers, en go 'long en tend to yo' business. You-all got dem dar cows to git up en milk, en de hogs is to be fed, en de hawsses to be curried, en you, Sis Sereny, you better wrop de baby up now en carry her along to de Gre't House, en Sis Dilsey, you better look after things. Ole-Granny-Aggie, you better git to bed."

The cradle was brought down from the garret and emptied of its loyal little toys. It had belonged to the twin-brother of the uncle who took the midnight ride to help me across the dark waters. While it was being arranged for my occupancy a cry of dismay went up from Ole-Granny-Aggie, who had disobeyed Uncle Charles and followed me in.

"Don't put dat chile in dat cradle! What you thinkin' 'bout? Marse Jasper's twin done en die in dat cradle, en all de rabbits' foots in de worl' ain't gwine charm away de ha'nts en keep off de ebil eye ef you puts her in dat cradle to sleep. Put dem dar li'l toys all back ag'in en tek de cradle back to de garret en pull outn de trunnel bed. De cat's been a tryin' to steal hit for hern, en cats does p'int de way. You sho' is tryin' to see how much triberlation en bad luck you kin fotch down 'pon dis chile's haid, fotchin' her home of a Friday in de small of de moon in a settin'-aig-basket, mekin' her drink her first drink fum a stranger's cup in a stranger's house wid undrinkin' strangers a lookin' on while she unbeknown to it all is a drinkin'. I's glad I flung de dish-water on de dog—a howlin' jest as Uncle Charles was a prayin', en you-all know what a howlin' dog means."

The superstitions were heeded, the little toys were all lovingly replaced in the cradle and returned to the garret and I was put to sleep in the little trundle bed where my grandfather and great-grandfather and mother and uncles and aunts had slept when the cradle and crib had grown too small and they were not yet old enough for a tester-bed.

Aunt Serena was moved from the "quarters" and ensconced in one of the garret rooms of the "Gre't House." She was provided with a supply of new clothing, which delighted her, and was placed upon a special diet, which she resented, preferring her bacon and greens, "pot-liquor" and "corn-meal-dumplin's" to the daintier food prescribed.

Her little twins, my foster sisters, Mary-Frances and Arabella, were placed in the care of the "orphan tenders," Mammy Dilsey and Ole-Granny-Aggie, the latter claiming to be more than a hundred years old. A cow was set aside for the especial use of the twins, who soon learned that the tinkle of the cow-bells meant for them a banquet of rich warm milk.

For awhile they were brought up twice a day to the "Gre't House" to see "dar Mammy" and sometimes were permitted to partake of the crumbs that fell from the "rich baby's table," which crumbs they soon disdainfully refused, showing their preference for the libations of "Spotty Sookey," that being the name of their barnyard cow.