mis' lan'.
He went up frum--I don't know wher' frum;
He went up frum--I don't know wher' frum;
He went up frum--I don't know wher' frum,
Safe to de promis' lan'.
By an' by we'll go an' see him;
By an' by we'll go an' see him;
By an' by we'll go an' see him,
Safe in de promis' lan'."

Having got to the end of his Hebrew rope, the singer, pausing but long
enough for a "Gee up, Corny," to his slow-paced plow-horse, passed
recklessly from sacred to profane, and fell to roaring "Ol' Zip Coon,"
from which to pass in turn, by a cut as short, to "Hark! from the tombs
a doleful sound."

When the dinner-horn blew, he unhitched old Cornwallis from the plow
and, mounting him, rode leisurely home. Having tied his horse to a long
trough set on two wide red-oak stumps just outside the gate of the fort,
and throwing in a dozen ears of corn, he went on into Miss Jemima's
kitchen to get his own dinner. Drawing a puncheon-stool up to the
puncheon-table, he sat down to his noonday meal with an appetite which
had been sharp enough from his morning labors, but to which his singing
had lent an edge keen as a tomahawk. He had cut him a long, thick slice
of bacon and was in the act of conveying the first solid inch of the
savory fat to his lips when the fork thus loaded was stayed midway
between plate and open mouth by the voice of his mistress, who came to
the kitchen-door to inquire if Bushie had not come in with him. Burl
looked quickly round, saying with a tone of surprise: "Why, Miss Jemimy,
hasn't Bushie come home?"

"No; nor has he been seen in or about the fort for more than three
hours," replied the mother.

Bolting the solid inch of bacon which the while he had held poised on
his fork, he rose quickly from the table and was hurrying out of the
house when his mistress, with more alarm at heart than look or tone
betrayed, inquired of him whither he was going.

"Jus' back to de fiel' ag'in to git Bushie. Come out to de fiel' whar I
was plowin', he did; staid a good smart bit, settin' on de fence,
waitin' fur de dinner-horn to blow, when he was to ride ol' Corny home.
He's shorely laid down on de grass in de fence-corner an' went to sleep.
But I'll go an' bring him home right away."

And with this explanation Burl was off to the field again, though with
but the slightest hope of finding his little master out there asleep on
the grass in the fence-corner, as he had suggested. On reaching