ut and
opened. Over this hoard of treasures, Aunt Patsy spent nearly two hours,
slowly taking up the various articles it contained, turning them over,
mumbling over them, and mentally referring many of them to periods which
had become historic. At length she pulled out from one of the corners of
the trunk a pair of very little blue morocco shoes tied together by
their strings. These she took into her lap, and, shortly afterward, had
the trunk locked, and pushed back into its place. The shoes, having been
thoroughly examined through her great iron-bound spectacles, were thrust
under the mattress of her bed.

That evening, Uncle Isham stepped in to see the old woman, who was
counteracting the effects of the cool evening air by sitting as close as
possible to the remains of the fire which had cooked the supper. She was
very glad to see him. She wanted somebody to whom she could unburden her
mind. "Wot you got to say 'bout Miss Annie's husband," she asked, "wot
done come to-day?"

"Was dat him?" exclaimed the old man. "Nobody tole me dat."

This was true, for the good-natured Letty, having discovered the
mistake that had been made, had concluded to say nothing about it and to
keep away from Aunt Patsy's for a few days, until the matter should be
forgotten.

"Well, I spec Miss Annie's mighty glad to git him back agin," continued
the old man, after a moment's reflection. "He's right much of a nice
lookin' gemman. I seed him this ebenin' a ridin' wid Mahs' Junius."

"P'raps Miss Annie is glad," said the ole woman, "coz she don' know. But
I ain't."

"Wot's de reason fur dat?" inquired Isham.

"It's a pow'ful dreffle thing dat Miss Annie's husband's done come down
h'yar. He don' know ole miss."

"Wot's de matter wid ole miss?" asked Isham, in a quick tone.

"She done talk to me 'bout him," said the old woman. "She done tole me
jus' wot she think of him. She hate him from he heel up. I dunno wot
she'll do to him now she got him. Mighty great pity fur pore Miss Annie
dat he ever come h'yar."

"Ole miss ain't gwine ter do nuffin' to him," said Isham, in a gruff and
troubled tone.

"Don' you b'lieve dat," said Aunt Patsy. "When ole miss don' like a
pusson, dat pusson had better look out. But I ain't gwine to be sottin'
h'yar an' see mis'ry comin' to Miss Annie."

"Wot you gwine to do?" asked Isham.

"I's gwine ter speak my min' to ole miss. I's gwine to tell her not to
do no kunjerin' to Miss Annie's husban'. She gw