Just then the bell rang, and Robert, answering, found Mrs. Johnson
suffering from a severe headache, which he thought was occasioned by her
worrying over the late defeat of the Confederates. She sent him on an
errand, which he executed with his usual dispatch, and returned to some
work which he had to do in the kitchen. Robert was quite a favorite with
Aunt Linda, and they often had confidential chats together.

"Bobby," she said, when he returned, "I thinks we ort ter hab a
prayer-meetin' putty soon."

"I am in for that. Where will you have it?"

"Lem me see. Las' Sunday we had it in Gibson's woods; Sunday 'fore las',
in de old cypress swamp; an' nex' Sunday we'el hab one in McCullough's
woods. Las' Sunday we had a good time. I war jis' chock full an' runnin'
ober. Aunt Milly's daughter's bin monin all summer, an' she's jis' come
throo. We had a powerful time. Eberythin' on dat groun' was jis' alive.
I tell yer, dere was a shout in de camp."

"Well, you had better look out, and not shout too much, and pray and
sing too loud, because, 'fore you know, the patrollers will be on your
track and break up your meetin' in a mighty big hurry, before you can
say 'Jack Robinson.'"

"Oh, we looks out for dat. We's got a nice big pot, dat got cracked las'
winter, but it will hole a lot o' water, an' we puts it whar we can tell
it eberything. We has our own good times. An' I want you to come Sunday
night an' tell all 'bout the good eggs, fish, and butter. Mark my words,
Bobby, we's all gwine to git free. I seed it all in a vision, as plain