apron over her face the woman began to cry.

"He won't! I heard him say he wouldn't have it," Sylvia assured her
eagerly. "Don't cry, Dinkie," and she patted the woman's arm.

Dinkie let her apron fall and looked eagerly at Sylvia.

"You'se the little Yankee missy, ain't you?" she questioned. "I hear say
that Yankees don't believe in selling black folks."

"They don't; I'm sure they don't. I'll run right back and tell Philip
you want to see him," replied Sylvia. "You stay right here by this
tree," she added, pointing to a big live-oak.

"Yas, Missy, I thanks you," replied the woman.

Sylvia ran back toward the house as fast as she could go. She could see
the ponies standing before the house, a small negro boy holding their
bridle-reins. The girls were on the steps waiting for her.

"I mustn't let them know that Dinkie wants to see Philip," she thought,
as the girls called out that they had been looking everywhere for her.
At that moment the two boys came along the piazza.

"Philip is going to teach you how to mount, and how to hold your reins,
Sylvia," said Flora.

Grace and Sylvia were to ride the white ponies, and Flora was to ride a
small brown horse which her mother usually rode.