y. We libs two mile fuddah down dis heah
same road, an' ef you wants to see my marstah an' Marstah Gilcrest
bofe, you might ez well see Marse Mason fust, anyways; kaze whutevah he
say, Marse Hiram's boun' to say, too. Dey's mos' mighty thick."

The stranger turned his head to hide a momentary smile.

"You jes' ride straight on," continued Uncle Tony, pointing northward
with his stick; "fus' you comes to a big log house wid de shettahs all
barred up, settin' by itse'f a leetle back frum de road, wid a woods
all roun' it--dat's Cane Redge meetin'-house. Soon's you pass it, you
comes to de big spring, den to a dirty leetle cabin whar dem pore white
trash, de Simminses, libs. Den you strikes a cawnfiel', den a orchid.
Den you'se dar. De dawgs an' chickens will sot up a tur'ble rumpus, but
you jes' ride up to de stile an' holler, 'Hello!' an' some dem
no-'count niggahs'll tek yo' nag an' construct you inter Miss Cynthy
Ann's presence. I'd show you de way myse'f, on'y Is'e bountah fin' dat
heifer; but you carn't miss de way."

With this he hobbled off down the road in search of the errant heifer.
Meanwhile our traveler rode steadily forward until, in another
half-hour, he came in sight of a more prosperous-looking clearing than
any he had seen since leaving Bourbonton. To the right of the road some
long-horned cattle and a mare and colt were grazing in a woodland
pasture; to the left, in a field, several negroes were gathering the
yellow corn from the shock and heaping it into piles. In an orchard
adjoining the cornfield a barefooted, freckled-faced little girl was
standing under an apple-tree with her apron held out to catch the fruit
which another barefooted, freckled-faced little girl in the branches
overhead was tossing down to her. In the center of a tree-shaded yard
stood the house, a spacious, two-story log structure, with a huge rock
chimney at each end.

As the stranger drew rein at the stile, he was greeted by a chorus of
dogs, followed instantly by the cries of a number of half-clad,
grinning little darkeys who came running forward from the negro
quarters in the rear.

"Doan be skeered o' Ketchum, Mistah; he shan't tech you," called the
largest of them, a bright-skinned mulatto, quieting the snarling dog
with a kick.

"Reckon Marse Mason's somewhars 'roun' de place, suh," added the darkey
in answer to the traveler's inquiry. "Miss Cynthy Ann she's in de
settin'-room. Jes' walk in dar tru de passage-way, an'