time."

"There's plenty of time, Uncle Bob; take a seat, then, if we are to
have a talk;" and Major Waldron lit his cigar, and leaned back, while
Uncle Bob seated himself on a low chair, and said:

"Marster, I come ter ax yer wat'll yer take fur dat little boy yer
bought fum de specerlaters?"

"Ann's little boy?" asked his master; "why, I would not sell him at
all. I only bought him because his mother was dying of exposure and
fatigue, and I wanted to relieve her mind of anxiety on his account, I
would certainly never sell her child away from her,"

"Yes, sar, dat's so," replied the old man; "but den my min', hit's
made up. I've laid me up er little money fum time ter time, wen I'd be
er doct'in uv hosses an' mules an' men'-in' cheers, an' all sich ez
dat; de folks dey pays me lib'ul; an', let erlone dat, I'm done mighty
well wid my taters an' goobers, er sellin' uv 'em ter de steamboat
han's, wat takes 'em ter de town, an' 'sposes uv 'em. So I'm got er
right smart chance uv money laid up, sar; an' now I wants ter buy me
er nigger, same ez white folks, fur ter wait on me an' bresh my coat
an' drive my kerridge; an' I 'lowed ef yer'd sell de little white
nigger, I'd buy 'im," and Uncle Bob chuckled and laughed.

"Why, Bob, I believe you are crazy," said his master, "or drunk."

"I ain't neder one, marster; but den I'm er jokin' too much, mo'n de
'lenity uv de cazhun inquires, an' now I'll splain de facks, sar."