her! Many a time an' oft as a child about my mother's knees, the
sound of that ringin' comes floatin' to us where my father has his
house four miles further down the river. On sech o'casions I'd up
an' ask:

"'" Whatever is this yere ringin'?"

"'"Hesh, my child!" my mother would say, smotherin' my mouth with
her hand, her voice sinkin' to a whisper, for as the head of the
House of Sterett, every one of the tribe is plumb scared of my
grandfather an' mentions him with awe. "Hesh, my child," says my
mother like I relates, "that's your grandfather ringin' his bell."

"'An' from calf-time to beef-time, from the first kyard out of the
box down to the turn, no one ever knows why my grandfather does ring
it, for he's too onbendin' to tell of his own accord, an' as I
states prior, no one on earth has got nerve an' force of character
enough to ask him.

"'My own father, whose name is the same as mine, bein' Willyum
Greene Sterett, is the oldest of my grandfather's chil'en. He's a
stern, quiet gent, an' all us young-ones is wont to step high an'
softly whenever he's pesterin' 'round. He respects nobody except my
grandfather, fears nothin' but gettin' out of licker.

"'Like my grandfather up at "The Hill," my father devotes all his
talents to raisin' runnin' hosses, an' the old faun would have been
a heap lonesome if thar's fewer than three hundred head a nickerin'
about the barns an' pastures. Shore! we has slaves too; we has
niggers to a stand-still.