"Well, we are Major Waldron's little girls, Diddie and Dumps, an' this
is my maid, Dilsey, an' we've come ter see yer on business."

"On business, eh?" replied Mr. Smith, stepping in at the low window.
"Well, what's the business, little ones?" and he took a seat on the side
of the bed, and regarded them curiously. But here Diddie stopped, for
she felt it was a delicate matter to speak to this genial,
pleasant-faced old man of cruelty to his own slaves. Dumps, however, was
troubled with no such scruples; and, finding that Mr. Smith was not so
terrible as she had feared, she approached him boldly, and, standing by
his side, she laid one hand on his gray head, and said:

"Mr. Smith, we've come ter beg you please not ter whup Uncle Pomp if he
comes back. He is runned erway, an' me an' Diddie know where he is, an'
we've ben feedin' him, an' we don't want you ter whup him; will you
please don't?" and Dumps's arm slipped down from the old man's head,
until it rested around his neck; and Mr. Smith, looking into her eager,
childish face, and seeing the blue eyes filled with tears, thought of
the little faces that long years ago had looked up to his; and, bending
his head, he kissed the rosy mouth.

"You won't whup him, will you?" urged Dumps.

"Don't you think he ought to be punished for running away and staying
all this time, when I needed him in the crop?" asked Mr. Smith, gently.

"But, indeed, he _is_ punished," said Diddie; "he was almost starved to
death when me and Dumps carried him the picnic; and then he is so
scared, he's been punished, Mr. Smith; so please let him come home, and