r named Tennessee? And
did they call her Tenny for short?"

"Bress yer soul, honey, yes," cried Snowball letting the brush fall in
her astonishment. "How kum yer ter know dat?"

"She was on the boat with me when I came from Memphis," replied Jeanne.
"She told me all about losing you and how much she thought of you, but
she thought that Colonel Peyton bought you."

"Yes'm, he did. But de Kuhnel went to de wah an' he say he hab too many
darkies, so he sell off all but de ones he hab de longes', an' Massa Vance
bought me. What my ole mammy say?"

"She loves you very much, and she misses you greatly, Snowball. I wish
I could buy you and set you free. Then you could go North to live with
her."

"Wish yer could. I'd laik dat. An' I'd laik de bes' in de wohld ter see
my ole mammy ergain. How'd she look, missy?"

Jeanne told the girl all that she could recall about Tenny. How she looked
and what she had said. Snowball's eyes glistened as she talked.

"Yer got a good heart, little missy," she said as Jeanne paused for
breath. "You is de bestest lill' lady dat I eber seed. Snowball'll lub
ter wait on yer."

And Jeanne soon found that it was really a labor of love to the girl,
and they grew to be fast friends despite the difference in color and
condition. In fact she soon found that she felt more at home with the
colored girl than she did with her aunt in spite of the caresses which
the latter lavished upon her.

The days passed into weeks, and the weeks into months until two had rolled
by and Jeanne was still in New Orleans. She had grown pale and thin and
worn. She had no illness but suffered the bad effects of the wasting
climate. In all the time she had been there no word had come to her from
her parents, and a great longing for home possessed her.

"Why does not my father write for me?" she murmured one morning as she sat
listlessly before the window. "What can have happened? Something is wrong
I know, or he would have sent for me."

"Why so triste, my love?" asked her aunt entering the room.

"Cherie," and Jeanne returned the caress that Madame bestowed upon her.
"I am wishing for my mother and home. I wonder why I have not heard from
my father."

"It is strange," admitted the lady. "And yet, child, when one considers
the state of the country and how the Yankees seize mails and telegrams,
and exercise such a rigorous espionage over them one cannot wonder after
all. I have no doubt that he has written, but tha