McGee's plantation, en ax' Pete, de nigger w'at tuk keer er de mules,
fer ter come down dere dat night en fetch dat mule w'at his marster had
bought fum de po' w'ite man dyoin' er de summer.

"Pete did n' know w'at de cunjuh man wuz dribin' at, but he did n'
daster stay way; en so dat night, w'en he 'd done eat his bacon en his
hoe-cake, en drunk his 'lasses-en-water, he put a bridle on de mule, en
rid 'im down ter de cunjuh man's cabin. W'en he got ter de do', he lit
en hitch' de mule, en den knock' at de do'. He felt mighty jubous 'bout
gwine in, but he was bleedst ter do it; he knowed he could n' he'p
'isse'f.

"'Pull de string,' sez a weak voice, en w'en Pete lif de latch en went
in, de cunjuh man was layin' on de bed, lookin' pale en weak, lack he
did n' hab much longer fer ter lib.

"'Is you fotch' de mule?' sezee.

"Pete say yas, en de cunjuh man kep' on.

"'Brer Pete,' sezee, 'I's be'n a monst'us sinner man, en I's done a
power er wickedness endyoin' er my days; but de good Lawd is wash' my
sins erway, en I feels now dat I's boun' fer de kingdom. En I feels,
too, dat I ain' gwine ter git up fum dis bed no mo' in dis worl', en I
wants ter ondo some er de harm I done. En dat's de reason, Brer Pete, I
sont fer you ter fetch dat mule down here. You 'member dat shote I was
up ter yo' plantation inquirin' 'bout las' June?'

"'Yas,' says Brer Pete, 'I'member yo' axin' 'bout a shote you had
los'.'