across the old play-ground.

Tot, long years ago, before the war even, when she was yet a pure,
sinless little girl, was added to that bright band of angel children who
hover around the throne of God; and so she was already there, you see,
to meet and welcome her "papa" when his stainless soul went up from
Malvern Hill.

Well, for "Mammy" and "Daddy Jake" and "Aunt Milly" and "Uncle Dan'l,"
"dat angel" has long since "blowed de horn," and I hope and believe they
are happily walking "dem golden streets" in which they had such
implicit faith, and of which they never wearied of telling.

And the rest of the negroes are all scattered; some doing well, some
badly; some living, some dead. Aunt Sukey's Jim, who married Candace
that Christmas-night, is a politician. He has been in the Legislature,
and spends his time in making long and exciting speeches to the loyal
leaguers against the Southern whites, all unmindful of his happy
childhood, and of the kind and generous master who strove in every way
to render his bondage (for which that master was in no way to blame) a
light and happy one.

Uncle Snake-bit Bob is living still. He has a little candy-store in a
country town. He does not meddle with politics. He says, "I don't cas'
my suffrins fur de Dimercracks, nur yit fur de 'Publicans. I can't go
'ginst my color by votin' de Dimercrack papers; an' ez fur dem
'Publicans! Well, ole Bob he done hyearn wat de _Book_ say 'boutn
publicans an' sinners, an' dat's ernuff fur him. He's er gittin' uperds
in years now; pretty soon he'll hatter shove off fur dat 'heb'nly sho';'
an' wen de Lord sen' atter him, he don't want dat angel ter cotch him in