lowers
as was my custom, and entering the gate at the back, had delivered my
basket at the kitchen door, when, as I turned to retrace my steps, I was
detained by the scolding voice of the pink-turbaned negro cook.

"Hi! if you ain' clean furgit de car'ots!" she cried.

Now the carrots had been placed in the basket, as I had seen with my own
eyes, by the hands of John Chitling himself, and I had been cautioned at
the time not to drop them out in my ascent of the steep hill. There was
a lady in the grey house, he had informed me, who was supposed to
subsist upon carrots alone, and who was in consequence extremely
particular as to their size and flavour.

"Are you sure they ain't among the vegetables?" I asked. "I saw them put
in myself."

"Huh! en you seed 'em fall out, too, I lay!" rejoined the negress,
protruding her thick red lips as she turned the basket upside down with
an indignant blow.

"If they're lost, I'll go back and bring others," I said, thinking
disconsolately of the hill.

"En you 'ould be back hyer agin in time fur supper," retorted the
outraged divinity. "Wat you reckon Miss Mitty wants wid car'ots fur 'er
supper? Dey is hern, dey ain' mine, but ef'n dey 'us mine I'd lamn you
twel you couldn't see ter set. Hit's bad enough ter hev ter live erlong
in de same worl' wid de slue-footed po' white trash widout hevin' dem
a-snatchin' de car'ots outer yo' ve'y mouf."

My temper, never of the mildest, was stung quickly to a retort, and I
was about to order her to hold her tongue and return me my basket, when
the door into the house opened and shut, and the little girl of the
enchanted garden appeared in the flesh before me.

"I want the plum cake you promised me, Aunt Mirabella," she cried; "and
oh! I hope you've stuffed it full of plums!" Then her glance fell upon
me and I saw her thick black eyebrows arch merrily over her sparkling
grey eyes. "It's my boy! My dear common boy!" she exclaimed, with a rush
toward me. For the first time I noticed then that she was dressed in
mourning, and that her black clothes intensified the dark brightness of
her look. "Oh, I _am_ glad to see you," she added, seizing my hand.

I gazed up at her, wounded rather than pleased. "I shan't be a common
boy always," I answered.

"Do you mind my calling you one? If you do, I won't," she said, and
without waiting a minute, "What are you doing here? I thought you lived
over on Church Hill."

"I don't now. Ma died and I ran aw