Edward. It's mos' seven o'clock. I've had my supper at the Quarter with
Aunt Daphne. The scarlet beans over her door are in bloom, and Uncle
Mingo told me about the rabbit and the fox. Miranda is going to put me
to bed because Mammy Chloe is busy in the blue room with the doctor and
the man whose horse threw him."

Uncle Edward put his one arm around the child and drew her close to his
chair. Deb touched with her brown fingers the sleeve that was pinned
across his coat. "Does your arm that is buried at Yorktown hurt you
to-day, Uncle Edward? Tell me a story about General Washington."

"No; you tell me a story."

Deb considered. "I'll tell you a story about the man upstairs in the
blue room."

"What do you know about the man in the blue room?"

"Jacqueline told me. She knows," answered Deb. "I am going to begin now,
Uncle Edward."

"I am listening," said the Major.

"Once upon a time there lived on the Three-Notched Road a boy, a poor
boy. He lived in a log house that was not so good as an overseer's
house, and there were pine trees all around it, and wild flowers, but no
other kinds of flowers. And in the trees there were owls, and in the
bushes there were whip-poor-wills, and sometimes a mockingbird, but no
other kinds of birds, and at night the fireflies were all about. And
outside the pine trees, all around the house, the tobacco grew and grew.