ed the room and drew
back the curtain from one of the windows. "Thet ole smoke-house out
thar undah the buckeye-tree wuz my fust home heah, suh. Until aftah the
fust craps wuz in, none o' the settlers' cabins hed anythin' but dirt
floors.

"Cissy," he said to Susan, who had just entered, "tell yer ma to git
out the boughten table-cloth an' them blue chaney dishes--an' say,
honey, you must set the table in heah. I hain't gwineter sot Mr. Dudley
down to eat in the kitchen the fust night he breaks bread with us.

"Welt, ez I wuz a-sayin'," he continued to Dudley, resuming his seat,
"our cabins hed dirt floors, an' the walls warn't chinked; an' ez fur
winder glass, why, bless yer soul, we hardly knowed thar wuz sich a
thing. The only cheers we had wuz stools made o' slabs sot on three
laigs. Our table wuz made the same, an' our bed wuz laid on slabs whut
rested on poles at the outsides, with the othah eends o' them let in
between the logs o' the hut. Henry wuz a baby then, an' he wuz rocked
in a sugar-trough cradle. But, pshaw! heah my tongue's a-runnin' lak a
bell clappah; I reckon these ole 'membrances don't intrust you much,
an'----"

"Indeed they do. It is more interesting than a romance. But tell me,
how did you acquire so many negroes? You surely didn't bring them with
you?"

"Lawd, no! Why, we wuz pore ez Job's turkey, an' hardly owned a shut to
our backs, let 'lone niggahs. Aftah the country wuz more cl'ared up,
folks moved in frum Virginny an' even Pennsylvany, an' brought slaves
with 'em. Then the Yankee dealers begun to fotch 'em in an' sell 'em at
Lexin'ton an' Louisville an' Limestone. Rube an' Dink wuz the fust I
owned--bought 'em o' ole Jake Bledsoe in the spring o' '87. Now I own
nigh on to twenty darkeys, big an' little. The place is fairly runnin'
ovah with the lazy imps, an' it keeps me an' Cynthy Ann on the tight
jump frum sun-up tell dark lookin' aftah 'em."

"How long have you owned Uncle Tony? He talks like a Virginia darkey."

"So he is. He's not only frum my own State, but frum my county an'
town--ole Lawsonville. Cynthy Ann 'lows Tony's done got the measure o'
my foot, an' thet I spile him dreadful. I reckon I hev got a sneakin'
likin' fur his ole black hide; but whut could you expaict when he's the
only pusson, black or white, I've laid eyes on frum Lawsonville sence I
run away to Car'liny nigh thirty year ago? I'll tell you sometime how I
happened on Tony; hain't time now, fur I smell the