."]

"I don't b'lieve yer did," said Uncle Bob. "I seed yer eat er squ'l or
two, an' er few fish, likely, an' dem, wid er sprinklin' uv roas'n yurs
an' cakes, wuz de mos' wat I seed yer eat."

"An' dat wuz too much," said Mammy, "right befo' de gemmuns."

But Dumps was comforted at Uncle Bob's moderate statement of the case,
and so Mammy's lecture lost much of its intended severity.

As they were driving through the grove before reaching the house it was
quite dark, and they heard an owl hooting in one of the trees.

"I see yer keep on sayin' yer sass," said Daddy Jake, addressing the
owl. "Ef'n I'd er done happen ter all you is 'bout'n hit, I'd let hit
erlone myse'f."

"What's he sayin'?" asked Diddie.

"Wy, don't yer hyear him, honey, er sayin,

"Who cooks fur you-oo-a?
Who cooks fur you-oo-a?
Ef you'll cook for my folks,
Den I'll cook fur y' all-l-lll?"

"Well, hit wuz 'long er dat very chune wat he los' his eyes, an' can't
see no mo' in de daytime; an' ef'n I wuz him, I'd let folks' cookin'
erlone."

"Can't you tell us about it, Daddy?" asked Dumps.

"I ain't got de time now," said the old man, "caze hyear's de wagin
almos' at de do'; an', let erlone dat, I ain't nuber hyeard 'twus good
luck ter be tellin' no tales on de Fourf uv July; but ef'n yer kin come
ter my cabin some ebenin' wen yer's er airin' uv yerse'fs, den I'll tell
yer jes wat I hyearn 'bout'n de owl, an' 'struck yer in er many er thing
wat yer don't know now."

And now the wagon stopped at the back gate, and the little girls and
Mammy and the little darkies got out, and Mammy made the children say
good-night to Daddy Jake and Uncle Bob, and they all went into the house
very tired and very sleepy, and very dirty, with their celebration of
"Marse Fofer July's burfday."

CHAPTER XVI.

"'STRUCK'N UV DE CHIL'EN."

It was several days before the children could get off to Daddy Jake's
cabin to hear about the owl; but on Saturday evening, after dinner,
Mammy said they might go; and, having promised to go straight to Daddy
Jake's house, and to come home before dark, they all started off.

Daddy Jake was the oldest negro on the plantation--perhaps the oldest in
the State. He had been raised by Major Waldron's grandfather in
Virginia, and remembered well the Revolutionary War; and then he had
been brought to Mississippi by Major Waldron's father, and remembered
all about the War of 1812 and the troubles with the Indians. It had been