when he finds I'm a goner? I specs he'll hate it like pizen."

"O, well," said Robert, "the best of friends must part. Don't let it
grieve you."

"I'se gwine to take my wife an' chillen," said one of the company.

"I'se got nobody but myself," said Tom; "but dere's a mighty putty
young gal dere at Marse Tom's. I wish I could git her away. Dey tells me
dey's been sellin' her all ober de kentry; but dat she's a reg'lar
spitfire; dey can't lead nor dribe her."

"Do you think she would go with us?" said Robert.

"I think she's jis' dying to go. Dey say dey can't do nuffin wid her.
Marse Tom's got his match dis time, and I'se glad ob it. I jis' glories
in her spunk."

"How did she come there?"

"Oh, Marse bought her ob de trader to keep house for him. But ef you
seed dem putty white han's ob hern you'd never tink she kept her own
house, let 'lone anybody else's."

"Do you think you can get her away?"

"I don't know; 'cause Marse Tom keeps her mighty close. My! but she's
putty. Beautiful long hair comes way down her back; putty blue eyes, an'
jis' ez white ez anybody's in dis place. I'd jis' wish you could see her
yoresef. I heerd Marse Tom talkin' 'bout her las' night to his brudder;