You've been used me moughty well, en I'se pow'ful 'bleeged ter you--en
Marse Tom, he's a gent'mun ef ever I seed one. I ain' go no fault ter
fine."

The general lost his temper and started up.

"Then what do you mean by turning fool at your age?" he demanded
angrily. "Haven't I given you a roof over your head all these years?"

"Dat's so, suh."

"And food to eat?"

"Dat's so."

"And never asked you to do a lick of work since you got the rheumatism?"

"Dat's es true es de Gospel."

"Then what do you mean by going off like mad to that little, broken-down
shanty with half the roof gone?"

Uncle Ishmael shuffled his heavy feet and scratched his head again.

"Hit's de trufe, Marse Tom," he said at last. "Hit's de Gospel trufe. I
ain' had so much ter eat sence I'se gone off, en I ain' had much uv er
roof ter kiver me, en I ain' had nuttin' ter w'ar ter speak on--but, fo'
de Lawd, Marse Tom, freedom it are er moughty good thing."

Then the general flew into the house in a rage and Uncle Ishmael left,