e says, breakin' in.

"'Yes'm--some,' I says.

"'Liza, you may go to your kitchen now,' she says. 'Can you tell me if
they have sold the mare, Mary Goodloe, yet?' she says to me when the
nigger woman's gone.

"'Yes'm, she was sold,' I says.

"She flinches like I'd hit her 'n' I see her chin begin to quiver, but
she bites her lip 'n' I looks off down the road to give her a chance.
Pretty soon she's back fur more. I'm feelin' like a hound.

"'Do you know who bought her?' she says.

"'A nigger man they call Uncle Jake buys her,' I says.

"'Uncle Jake!' she says. 'Are you sure? Was he an old man with poor
eyesight?'

"'He was old all right,' I says. 'But I don't notice about his eyes.
He give twenty dollars fur her.'

"'Is that all she brought?' she says.

"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n'
tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She
stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see
eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark.

"'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last.

"'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile.

"'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find
Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?'

"'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns. . . I
finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right--he can't hardly
see. He's got rheumatism, too--he's all crippled up with it. When I
gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch.

"'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do
you know?'

"'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss
Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she
look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make
some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' nobody want her. Hit
look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole--he doan' know what to do zakly.
Hit's gittin' mighty 'bahassin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr.
Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be
willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer
am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de
'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's
howkum ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' _nobody_ gwine
to take her away fum you, honey!'

"'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your