d woman without teeth.

"Miss Annie sen' dese h'yar?" asked the old woman, taking the basket and
lifting the lid.

"Miss Annie!" exclaimed Uncle Isham. "Who she?"

"Git out, Uncle Isham!" said Aunt Patsy, somewhat impatiently. "She was
h'yar dis mawnin'."

"Dat was Miss Null," said Isham.

"Miss Annie all de same," said Aunt Patsy, "on'y growed up an' married.
D'ye mean to stan' dar, Uncle Isham, an' tell me you don' know de little
gal wot Mahs' John use ter carry in he arms ter feed de tukkies?"

"She and she mudder dead long ago," said Isham. "You is pow'ful ole,
Aun' Patsy, an' you done forgit dese things."

"Done forgit nuffin," curtly replied the old woman. "Don' tell me no
moh' fool stuff. Dat Miss Annie, growed up an' married."

"Did she tell you dat?" asked Isham.

"She didn't tell me nuffin'. She kep' her mouf shet 'bout dat, an' I
kep' my mouf shet. Don' talk to me! Dat's Miss Annie, shuh as shootin'.
Ef she hadn't fotch nuffin' 'long wid her but her eyes I'd a knowed dem;
same ole eyes dey all had. An' 'sides dat, you fool Isham, ef she not
Miss Annie, wot she come down h'yar fur?"

"Neber thinked o' dat!" said Uncle Isham, reflectively. "Ef you's so
pow'ful shuh, Aun' Patsy, I reckon dat _is_ Miss Annie. Couldn't 'spec
me to 'member her. I wasn't much up at de house in dem times, an' she
was took away 'fore I give much 'tention ter her."

"Don' ole miss know she dar?" asked Aunt Patsy.

'"She dunno nuffin' 'bout it," answered Isham. "She's stayin' away cos
she think Mahs' Junius dar yit."

"Why don' you tell her, now you knows it's Miss Annie wot's dar?"

"You don' ketch me tellin her nuffin'," replied the old man shaking his
head. "Wish you was spry 'nuf ter go, Aun' Patsy. She'd b'lieve you; an'
she couldn't rar an' charge inter a ole pusson like you, nohow."

"Ain't dar nobody else in dis h'yar place to go tell her?" asked Aunt
Patsy.

"Not a pusson," was Isham's decided answer.

"Well den I _is_ spry 'nuf!" exclaimed Aunt Patsy, with a vigorous nod
of her head which sent her spectacles down to her mouth, displaying a
pair of little eyes sparkling with a fire, long thought to be extinct.
"Ef you'll carry me dar, to Miss Harriet Corvey's, I'll tell ole miss
myse'f. I didn't 'spec to go out dat dohr till de fun'ral, but I'll go
dis time. I spected dar was sumfin' crooked when Miss Annie didn't tole
me who she was. Ise not 'feared to tell ole miss, an' you jes' carry me
up dar, Uncle Ish