"'De jay-bird hunt de sparrer-nes',
All by de light of de moon.
De bee-martin sail all 'roun',
All by de light of de moon.
De squirrel he holler from de top of de tree;
Mr. Mole he stay in de groun',
Oh, yes! Mr. Mole he stay in de groun'--'"

Sylvia listened and smiled as she looked at the happy faces of her
friends. But she could not forget Dinkie, and wondered if Philip could
really protect the unhappy woman from a whipping, and prevent her being
sold away from her children.

As they passed the cabins of the negroes the children ran out bobbing
and smiling to their young mistress, and Flora called out a friendly
greeting.

"Father's going to sell a lot of those niggers," she said carelessly.
"They eat more than they're worth."

"But won't their mothers feel dreadfully to let them go?" ventured
Sylvia. "Of course they will," declared Grace, before Flora could
respond. "And I do think it's a shame. Did you know Uncle Robert is
going to sell Estralla?" she asked turning to Sylvia.

Sylvia's grasp on the reins loosened, and she nearly lost her seat on
the broad back of the fat pony.

"What for?" she questioned, thinking to herself that Estralla should