dogwood, blackberry bushes, and frost grapevines. Half-way down the
hill, and under one of the tallest walnut trees, was a little hollow,
where dwelt the goblin with which nurses, housemaids, hired men, and
older sisters were wont to frighten refractory children into
quietness. It was the grave of an old negro. Alas! that to his last
resting-place the curse should follow him! Had it been a white person
who rested there, not half so fearful would have been the spot; now,
however, it was "the old nigger hole"--a place to run by if by
accident you were caught out after dark--a place to be threatened with
if you cried in the night and wanted the candle lighted--a landmark
where to stop when going part way home with the little girl who had
been to visit you, and who, on leaving you, ran no less swiftly than
you yourself did, half-fearing that the dusky form in the holly would
rise and try his skill at running. Verily, my heart has beat faster at
the thoughts of that dead negro than it ever has since at the sight of
a hundred live specimens, "'way down south on the old plantation."

The old schoolhouse, too, had its advantages and its disadvantages; of
the latter, one was that there, both summer and winter, but more
especially during the last-mentioned season, all the rude boys in the
place thought they had a perfect right to congregate and annoy the
girls in every possible way. But never mind, not a few wry faces we
made at them, and not a few "blockheads" we pinned to their backs! Oh!
I've had rare times in that old house and have seen rare sights, too,
to say nothing of the fights which occasionally occurred. In these
last brother Joe generally took the lead of one party, while Jim Brown
commanded the other. Dire was the confusion which reigned at such
times. Books were hurled from side to side. Then followed in quick
succession shovel, tongs, poker, water cup, water pail, water and all;
and to cap the climax, Jim Brown once seized the large iron pan, which