the aid of his fumbling fingers took off my bonnet. My mother
insisted that a bonnet was for protection from wind and sun, so I always
wore mine, but I had to have assistance in removing it because mother
braided my hair near the top of my head and pulled the plait through a
hole in the bonnet left for that purpose, then the top was buttoned
around it so my fingers could not remove it. Uncle Jake always laughed
when he helped me take it off because we had to be rather secretive and
not let mother find out.

Mammy Callie was in the kitchen churning, so I continued to ply Uncle
Jake with questions while I waited for a glass of fresh buttermilk. I
knew that my father was away at war and that Uncle Jake and Mammy Callie
were looking after my grandparents, my mother and me, but they would not
tell what war was like or why I could not go and play with other
children--they always watched me when I played and everything was kept
locked and hidden. It was all so strange and different from what it had
been, but Uncle Jake was just the same and all he would say was, "Dis
ol' worl' am just a vessel ob de Lawd and sometimes de contents of dat
vessel jest don' agree, dey gets bilin' hot like when water am poured on
burning embers, a powerful smoke do rise. So it is now, chile, dis ol'
worl' jest got too hot wid sin and God am trying to cool it off wid
refreshin' showers ob his love, but de dibbil am makin' sech a smoke it
am smartin' God's eyes", and Uncle Jake would pat me on the head and I
would smile and nod as if his explanation had been perfectly clear.

These thoughts of the afternoon before ran through my mind as I watched
Uncle Jake as he limped through the snow with a big brown shawl wrapped
around his stooped shoulders, a piece of home spun jeans pinned around
his head and a pair of patched jeans trousers supported by heavy bands
of the same material for suspenders. As he returned from milking, I
wondered if he had my gray kitten in his pocket, but suddenly I realized
he was hobbling hurriedly, the milk pail was thrown aside and he seemed
badly frightened. I ran to find out what had occurred to upset Uncle
Jake's usual carefree manner.

"De lock am gone! Dat mule am gone! Dem bushwhackers done tuk it off and
I's done gone atter 'em, right now". His eyes flashed as he shouted
without stopping and he hobbled down to his cabin. Grandfather went down
and tried to convince him that the weather was too cold to attempt to
follo