t dat is, Marse Custis?"

Custis shook his head.

From the old man's tones of deep emotion he knew the matter was serious.
He thought at once of the Hoodoo. But he could make out no meaning to
this bit of preserved flesh.

"Never saw anything like it."

"Nasah. I spec yer didn't."

Ben pushed the gray hair back from his left ear. He wore his hair drawn
low over the tips of his ears. It was a fad of his, which he never
allowed to lapse.

"See anything funny 'bout de top o' dat year, sah?"

Custis looked carefully.

"It looks shorter--"

"Hit's er lot shorter. De top ob hit's clean gone, sah. Dat's why I
allus combs my ha'r down close over my years--"

He paused and held up the piece of dried flesh.

"An' dat's hit, sah."

"A piece of your ear?"

"Hit sho is. Ye see, sah, a long time ergo when I wuz young an' strong
ez er bull, one er dese here uppish niggers come ter our house drivin'
a carriage frum Westover on de James, an' 'gin ter brag 'bout his folks
bein' de bes' blood er ole Virginia. An' man I tells him sumfin. I tells
dat fool nigger dat de folks at Westover wuz des fair ter midlin. Dat
_our_ folks wuz, an' allus wuz, de very fust fambly o' Virginy! I tells
him, dat Marse Robert's father was General Light Horse Harry Lee dat
help General Washington wid de Revolution. Dat he wuz de Govenor o' ole
Virginy. Dat he speak de piece at de funeral o' George Washington, dat
we all knows by heart, now--

"'Fust in war, fust in peace and fust in de hearts o' his countrymen.'

"I tells him dat Marse Robert's mother wuz a Carter. I tells him dat he
could count more dan one hundred gemmen his kin. Dat his folks allus had
been de very fust fambly in Virginy. I tells him dat he marry my Missis,
de gran' daughter o' ole Gineral Washington his-salf--an' en--"

He paused.

"An' den, what ye reckon dat fool nigger say ter me?"

"Couldn't guess."

"He say General Washington nebber had no children. And den man, man,
when he insult me lak dat, I jump on him lak a wil' cat. We fought an'
we fit. We fit an' we fought. I got him down an' bit one o' his years
clean off smooth wid his head. In de las' clinch he git hol' er my lef
year a'fo' I could shake him, he bit de top of hit off, sah. I got him
by the froat an' choke hit outen his mouf. And dar hit is, sah."

He held up the dried piece of his ear reverently.

"And what do you want me to do with it, Uncle Ben?" Custis asked
seriously.

"Nuttin right now, s