corner an old colored man, who, with a rag in one hand and a bottle
in the other, seemed intent upon some errand at the dog kennel
beyond, the visitor paused not in query or salutation, but tossed his
umbrella to the servant and at the same time handed him his
traveling-bag. "Take care of these. Bill," said he.

Bill, for that was indeed his name, placed the bag and umbrella upon
the gallery floor, and with the air of owning the place himself,
invited the visitor to enter the Big House.

"The Cunnel's not to home, suh," said Bill. "But you bettah come in
and seddown. I'll go call the folks."

"Never mind," said the visitor. "I reckon I'll just walk around a
little outside. I hear Colonel Blount is off on a bear hunt."

"Yassah," said Bill. "An' when he goes he mostly gits b'ah. I'se
right 'spondent dis time, though, 'deed I is, suh."

"What's the matter?"

"Why, you see, suh," replied Bill, leaning comfortably back against a
gallery post, "it's dis-away. I'm just goin' out to fix up old Hec's
foot. He's ouah bestest b'ah-dog, but he got so blame biggoty, las'
time he was out, stuck his foot right intoe a b'ah's mouth. Now,
Hec's lef' home, an' me lef home to 'ten' to Hec. How kin Cunnel
Blount git ary b'ah 'dout me and Hec along? I'se right 'spondent,
dat's whut I is."

"Well, now, that's too bad," said the stranger, with a smile.