an' feel
hitched togedder fer life."

"Well, Uncle Daniel," said Robert, turning the conversation toward him,
"you and Uncle Ben wouldn't go with us, but you came out all right at
last."

"Yes, indeed," said Aunt Linda, "Ben got inter a stream of luck. Arter
freedom com'd, de people had a heap of fath in Ben; an' wen dey wanted
some one to go ter Congress dey jist voted for Ben ter go. An' he went,
too. An' wen Salters went to Washin'ton to git his pension, who should
he see dere wid dem big men but our Ben, lookin' jist as big as any ob
dem."

"An' it did my ole eyes good jist ter see it," broke in Salters; "if I
couldn't go dere myself, I war mighty glad to see some one ob my people
dat could. I felt like de boy who, wen somebody said he war gwine to
slap off his face, said, 'Yer kin slap off my face, but I'se got a big
brudder, an' you can't slap off his face.' I went to see him 'fore I lef,
and he war jist de same as he war wen we war boys togedder. He hadn't
got de big head a bit."

"I reckon Mirandy war mighty sorry she didn't stay wid him. I know I
should be," said Aunt Linda.

"Uncle Daniel," asked Robert, "are you still preaching?"

"Yes, chile, I'se still firing off de Gospel gun."

"I hear some of the Northern folks are down here teaching theology, that
is, teaching young men how to preach. Why don't you study theology?"

"Look a yere, boy, I'se been a preachin' dese thirty years, an' you come
yere a tellin' me 'bout studying yore ologies. I larn'd my 'ology at de
foot ob de cross. You bin dar?"

"Dear Uncle Daniel," said Iola, "the moral aspect of the nation would be
changed if it would learn at the same cross to subordinate the spirit of
caste to the spirit of Christ."

"Does yer 'member Miss Nancy's Harriet," asked Aunt Linda, "dat she sole
away kase she wouldn't let her whip her? Well, we think dis is Harriet's
gran'chile. She war sole away from her mar, an' now she's a lookin' fer
her."

"Well, I hopes she may fine her," replied Salters. "I war sole 'way from
my mammy wen I war eighteen mont's ole, an' I wouldn't know her now from
a bunch ob turnips."

"I," said Iola, "am on my way South seeking for my mother, and I shall
not give up until I find her."

"Come," said Aunt Linda, "we mustn't stan' yer talkin', or de grub'll
git cole. Come, frens, sit down, an' eat some ob my pore supper."

Aunt Linda sat at the table in such a flutter of excitement that she
could hardly eat, but she gaz