good, kine heart at de bottom, massa--and I knows it, 'case I toted you
'fore you could gwo, and when you's a bery little chile, not no great
sight bigger'n har'n, you'd put your little arms round ole Pomp's neck,
and say dat when you war grow'd up you'd be bery kine ter de pore brack
folks, and not leff 'em be 'bused like dey war in dem days."

"Never mind what _you_ said," interrupted the Colonel, a little
impatiently, but showing no displeasure; "what did _she_ say?"

"Wal, massa, she tuk on bery hard 'bout Sam, and axed me ef I raaily
reckoned de Lord had forgib'n him, and took'n him ter Heself, and gibin'
him one o' dem hous'n up dar, in de sky. I toled her dat I _know'd_ it;
but she say it didn't 'pear so ter har, 'case Sam had a been wid har out
dar in de woods, all fru de day; dat she'd a _seed_ him, massa, and
dough he handn't a said nuffin', he'd lukd at har wid sech a sorry,
grebed luk, dat it gwo clean fru har heart, till she'd no strength leff,
and fall down on de ground a'most dead. Den she say big Sam come 'long
and fine har dar, and struck har great, heaby blows wid de big whip!"

"The brute!" exclaimed the Colonel, rising from his chair, and pacing
rapidly up and down the room.

"But p'r'aps he warn't so much ter blame, massa," continued the old
negro, in a deprecatory tone; "maybe he 'spose she war shirkin' de work.
Wal, den she say she know'd nuffin' more, till byme-by, when she come
to, and fine big Sam dar, and he struck har agin, and make har gwo ter
de work; and she did gwo, but she feel like as ef she'd die. I toled har
de good ma'am wudn't leff big Sam 'buse har no more 'fore you cum hum,
and dat you'd hab 'passion on har, and not leff har gwo out in de woods,
but put har 'mong de nusses, like as afore.

"Den she say it 'twarn't de work dat trubble har--dat she orter work,
and orter be 'bused, 'case she'd been bad, bery bad. All she axed war
dat Sam would forgib har, and cum to har in de oder worle, and tell har
so. Den she cried, and tuk on awful; but de good Lord, massa, dat am so
bery kine ter de bery wuss sinners, He put de words inter my mouf, and I
tink dey gib har comfut, fur she say dat it sort o' 'peared to har den
dat Sam _would_ forgib har, and take har inter his house up dar, and she
warn't afeard ter die no more.

"Den she takes up de chile and gwo 'way, 'pearin' sort o' happy, and
more cheerful like dan I'd a seed har eber sense pore Sam war shot."

My host was sensibly affec