in de head he had; an' Jack say de whole
fiddle warn wuff de five dollars.

"Me an' Nancy followed 'em tell dee went in de house, an' den we come
back to de shop whar de supper wuz gwine on, an' got we all supper an'
a leetle sop o' dat yaller gravy out dat big bowl, an' den we all
rejourned to de wash-house agin, an' got onder de big bush o' misseltow
whar hangin' from de jice, an' ef you ever see scufflin' dat's de time.

"Well, me an' she had jes done lay off de whole Christmas, when wud
come dat Marse George want he horses.

"I went, but it sutney breck me up; an' I wonder whar de name o' Gord
Marse George gwine sen' me dat cold night, an' jes as I got to de do'
Marse George an' Mr. Braxton come out, an' I know torectly Marse George
wuz gwine 'way. I seen he face by de light o' de lantern, an' twuz set
jes rigid as a rock.

"Mr. Braxton he wuz baiggin him to stay; he tell him he ruinin' he
life, dat he sho dee's some mistake, an' twill be all right. An' all
de answer Marse George meck wuz to swing heself up in de saddle, an'
Reveller he look like he gwine fyah 'stracted. He al'ays mighty fool
anyways when he git cold, dat horse wuz.

"Well, we come 'long 'way, an' Mr. Braxton an' two mens come down to de
river wid lanterns to see us cross, 'cause twuz dark as pitch, sho
'nough.

"An' jes 'fo' I started I got one o' de mens to hol' my horses, an' I
went in de kitchen to git warm, an' dyah Nancy wuz. An' she say Miss
Charlotte upsteairs cryin' right now, 'cause she think Marse George
gwine cross de river 'count o' her, an' she whimper a little herself
when I tell her good-by. But twuz too late den.

"Well, de river wuz jes natchelly b'ilin', an' hit soun' like a
mill-dam roarin' by; an' when we got dyah Marse George tunned to me an'
tell me he reckon I better go back. I ax him whar he gwine, an' he
say, 'Home.' 'Den I gwine wid you,' I says. I wuz mighty skeered, but
me an' Marse George wuz boys togerr; an' he plunged right in, an' I
after him.

"Gord! twuz cold as ice; an' we hadn' got in befo' bofe horses wuz
swimmin' for life. He holler to me to byah de myall head up de stream;
an' I did try, but what's a nigger to dat water! Hit jes pick me up
an' dash me down like I ain' no mo'n a chip, an' de fust thing I know I
gwine down de stream like a piece of bark, an' water washin' all over
me. I knowed den I gone, an' I hollered for Marse George for help. I
heah him answer me not to git skeered, bu