rying to comb a splendid black hunter,--a fine saddle
horse,--that champed as though a bit were in its mouth, and stepped and
curved around, until Bill, the groom, was out of patience and exclaimed:

"Come now, Hotspur, you crazy coot, stan' still, cain't you! Be a
genl'man fo' once, Hotspur, and I'll comb you with a bran' fire new
brush, Mars' gib me las' night."

At that a queer, wiry brush, partly worn out, was thrown over the bars,
falling so near Sally's head, it was well it missed hitting her. But no
one saw the little girl beyond the strip fence, and immediately Bill was
combing Hotspur's glossy sides with strokes so strong and even that the
great horse stood stock still.

Sally looked at the brush Bill had tossed away.

"That looks as if it would make my hair lay slick," she said. "I'll take
it home, carry it to the spring and wash it, and try it on my own
mane."

She laughed at her own funny words and put the brush in a hanging pocket
under her gown, that Mistress Brace had made for her to carry money in
safely, when she went on errands.

Then away and away she wandered until she had reached the quarters and
could peep at the cabins of the colored people through bushes and shrubs
that were far beyond the stone wall, but on the same side.

At a little distance she looked upon Mammy Leezer sitting against the
side of her cabin on a chair that had no back, her pipe in mouth, her
hands lying idly in her lap, the knitting for once laid aside.

Sally wished she dared go over and talk with the old woman. Yet again
that inner voice answered: "No, no! Mammy Leezer, though kind and
comforting betimes, could not be a fitting companion for you. Go not
after her, even though it be pleasant to meet her and hear her soft
voice when she speaks to thee."

"Perhaps it is because she is black," thought Sally.

"Oh no, no!" spoke the little uprising voice again. "It is because you
are different in every way from her and her race, and must not forget
it."

Then it was that Sally remembered that several times of late there had
seemed to be an inner voice that talked to her, and tried to teach her
things she had not known, or at least had not thought of before.

She gave a quick jump, clapped her hands, and exclaimed, in a soft but
jubilant voice:

"Oh, I know what I will do! I'll make believe there are two of me. One
shall be really me, Sally Dukeen, then there shall be another Sally, a
fine, new one, that has been t