at the tail of the procession. From time to time shrill squeaks went up
from the rear when a startled partridge whirred over the pasture or a
bare brown foot came down on a toad or a grasshopper.

As she made no reply, he added in a more intimate tone, "I am Jonathan
Gay, of Jordan's Journey, as I suppose you know."

"The old gentleman's nephew?" she said, while she drew slightly away
from him. "Mary Jo, did you tell Tobias's mammy that he was coming
along?"

"Nawm, I ain done tole nobody caze dar ain nobody done ax me."

"But I said that you were not to bring him without letting Mahaly know.
You remember what a whipping she gave him the last time he came!"

At this a dismal howl burst from Tobias. "I
ain't-a-gwine-ter-git-a-whuppin'!"

"Lawd, Miss Blossom, hit cyarn' hut Tobias ez hit ud hut de res'er us,"
replied Mary Jo, with fine philosophy, "case dar ain but two years er
'im ter whup."

"I ain't-a-gwine-ter-git-a-whuppin'!" sang Tobias in a passionate
refrain.

"Now that's just it," said Gay, feeling as though he should like to
throttle the procession of piccaninnies. "What I can't understand is why
the people about here--those I met at Bottom's Ordinary, for instance,
seem to have disliked me even before I came."