furthest, that's a fact; and the way he'd pyson a shark
ain't no matter. Are you ready, Jube?"

"Yes, massa."

"You shall do no such thing, Sir," I said, seizing his
arm with both my hands. "If you attempt to shoot at that
apple, I shall hold no further intercourse with you. You
ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sir."

"Ky! massa," said Jube, "let him fire, Sar; he no hurt
Jube; he no foozle de hair. I isn't one mossel afeerd.
He often do it, jist to keep him hand in, Sar. Massa
most a grand shot, Sar. He take off de ear oh de squirrel
so slick, he neber miss it, till he go scratchin' his
head. Let him appel hab it, massa."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Slick, "he is a Christian is Jube,
he is as good as a white Britisher: same flesh, only a
leetle, jist a leetle darker; same blood, only not quite
so old, ain't quite so much tarter on the bottle as a
lord's has; oh him and a Britisher is all one brother--oh
by all means--

Him fader's hope--him mudder's joy,
Him darlin little nigger boy.

You'd better cry over him, hadn't you. Buss him, call
him brother, hug him, give him the "Abolition" kiss,
write an article on slavery, like Dickens; marry him to