went to the settlement to
take supper with Aunt Linda, and a very luscious affair it was. Her
fingers had not lost their skill since she had tasted the sweets of
freedom. Her biscuits were just as light and flaky as ever. Her jelly
was as bright as amber, and her preserves were perfectly delicious.
After she had set the table she stood looking in silent admiration,
chuckling to herself: "Ole Mistus can't set sich a table as dat. She
ought'er be yere to see it. Specs 'twould make her mouf water. Well, I
mus' let by-gones be by-gones. But dis yere freedom's mighty good."

Aunt Linda had invited Uncle Daniel, and, wishing to give him a pleasant
surprise, she had refrained from telling him that Robert Johnson was the
one she wished him to meet.

"Do you know dis gemmen?" said Aunt Linda to Uncle Daniel, when the
latter arrived.

"Well, I can't say's I do. My eyes is gittin dim, an I disremembers
him."

"Now jis' you look right good at him. Don't yer 'member him?"

Uncle Daniel looked puzzled and, slowly scanning Robert's features,
said: "He do look like somebody I used ter know, but I can't make him
out ter save my life. I don't know whar to place him. Who is de gemmen,
ennyhow?"

"Why, Uncle Dan'el," replied Aunt Linda, "dis is Robby; Miss Nancy's
bad, mischeebous Robby, dat war allers playin' tricks on me."

"Well, shore's I'se born, ef dis ain't our ole Bobby!" exclaimed Uncle
Daniel, delightedly. "Why, chile, whar did yer come from? Thought you
war dead an' buried long 'go."

"Why, Uncle Daniel, did you send anybody to kill me?" asked Robert,
laughingly.

"Oh, no'n 'deed, chile! but I yeard dat you war killed in de battle, an'
I never 'spected ter see you agin."

"Well, here I am," replied Robert, "large as life, and just as natural.
And this young lady, Uncle Daniel, I believe is my niece." As he spoke
he turned to Iola. "Do you remember my mother?"

"Oh, yes," said Uncle Daniel, looking intently at Iola as she stepped
forward and cordially gave him her hand.

"Well, I firmly believe," continued Robert, "that this is the daughter
of the little girl whom Miss Nancy sold away with my mother."

"Well, I'se rale glad ter see her. She puts me mighty much in mine ob
dem days wen we war all young togedder; wen Miss Nancy sed, 'Harriet war
too high fer her.' It jis' seems like yisterday wen I yeard Miss Nancy
say, 'No house could flourish whar dere war two mistresses.' Well, Mr.
Robert--"

"Oh, no, no, Uncl