very well stand it--but can you form no idea of what has
occasioned this illness, or rather this change of conduct? Has
anything unpleasant happened since I saw you?"

"No, massa, dey aint bin noffin onpleasant SINCE den--'twas FORE
den I'm feared--'twas de berry day you was dare."

"How? what do you mean?"

"Why, massa, I mean de bug--dare now."

"The what?"

"De bug--I'm berry sartain dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere bout
de head by dat goole-bug."

"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"

"Claws enuff, massa, and mouff too. I nebber did see sich a d----d
bug--he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him. Massa Will
cotch him fuss, but had for to let him go gin mighty quick, I tell
you--den was de time he must ha got de bite. I didn't like de look
ob de bug mouff, myself, no how, so I wouldn't take hold ob him
wid my finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found. I
rap him up in de paper and stuff piece ob it in he mouff--dat was
de way."

"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the
beetle, and that the bite made him sick?"