He's moved off."

"Moved off!" echoed Miss Chris faintly. "Why, I believe Uncle Ish was
living in that cabin on Hickory Hill before I was born. I remember going
up there to help him gather hickory nuts when I wasn't six years old. I
couldn't have been six because mammy Betsey was with me, and she died
before I was seven. I declare there were always more nuts on those trees
than any I ever saw--"

But the general broke in upon her reminiscences, and she took up a fresh
tomato and peeled it carefully with a sharp-edged knife.

"Some idiots got after him," said the general, "and told him if he went
on living on my land he'd go back to slavery, and, bless your life, he
has gone--gone to that little one-room shanty where his daughter used to
live, between my place and Burr's--as if I'd have him," he concluded
wrathfully. "I wouldn't own that fool again if he dropped into my lap
straight from heaven!"

Miss Chris laughed merrily.

"It is the last place he would be likely to drop from," she returned;
"but I'll call him up and talk with him. It is a pity for him to be
moving off at his age."

So Uncle Ishmael was summoned up to the porch, and Miss Chris explained
the error of his ways, but to no purpose.

"I ain' got no fault ter fine," he repeated over and over again,
scratching his grizzled head. "I ain' got no fault ter fine wid you.