carpet.

"If you please, sar, my name is John," answered the African,
assuming a dignity of manner which even J.C. respected.

"Be it John, then," returned the young man, "but tell us how long
has she lived here, and where did she come from?"

Nothing pleased John better than a chance to talk of Maude, and he
replied: "She came here twelve years ago this very month with that
little blue-eyed mother of hern, who is lyin' under them willers in
the graveyard. We couldn't live without Miss Maude. She's all the
sunshine thar is about the lonesome old place. Why, she does
everything, from takin' care of her crippled half-brother to mendin'
t'other one's gownd."

"And who is t'other one?" asked J.C., beginning to feel greatly
interested in the negro's remarks.

"T'other one," said John, "is Miss Nellie, who won't work for fear
of silin' her hands, which some fool of a city chap has made her
b'lieve are so white and handsome," and a row of ivory was just
visible, as, leaning against a tree, John watched the effect of his
words upon "the fool of a city chap."

J.C. was exceedingly good-natured, and tossing his cigar into the
grass he replied, "You don't mean me, of course; but tell us more of
this Maude, who mops the floor and mends Nellie's dresses."

"She don't mop the floor," muttered John. "This nigger wouldn't let