account of the resemblance to himself. She had outgrown it somewhat
since she had first been nicknamed the Little Colonel. Then she was
only a spoiled baby of five; but now his pride in her was even greater,
since she had grown into a womanly little maid of eleven. He was proud
of her delicate, flower-like beauty, of her dainty ways, and all her
little schoolgirl accomplishments.

"She is like those who have gone before," he used to say to himself
sometimes, pacing slowly back and forth under the locusts; and the
bloom-tipped branches above would nod to each other as if they
understood. "Yes-s, yes-s," they whispered in the soft lisping language
of the leaves, "_we_ know! She's like Amanthis,--sweet-souled and
starry-eyed; we were here when you brought her home, a bride. She's like
Amanthis! Like Amanthis!"

Under the blossoms rode the Little Colonel, all in white herself this
May morning, except the little Napoleon hat of black velvet, set
jauntily over her short light hair. Into the cockade she had stuck a
spray of locust blossoms, and as she rode slowly along she fastened a
bunch of them behind each ear of her pony, whose coat was as soft and
black as the velvet of her hat. "Tarbaby" she called him, partly because
he was so black, and partly because that was the name of her favourite
Uncle Remus story.

"There!" she exclaimed, when the flowers were fastened to her
satisfaction. "Yo' lookin' mighty fine this mawnin', Tarbaby! Maybe I'll
take you visitin' aftah I've been to the post-office and mailed these
lettahs. You didn't know that Judge Moore's place is open for the
summah, did you, and that all the family came out yesta'day? Well, they
did, and if Bobby Moore isn't ovah to my house by the time we get back