all de glass, swaller it arter dat. I aint ever tried dat yet--best not to,
I reckon. No, master, I intends to keep sober from this time forrurd, till
young master comes back; _den_ I shall git high, spite of Phillis, and
'scuse me, sir, spite of de devil hisself. When is he comin, any how, sir?"

"Next year, I hope, Bacchus," said Mr. Weston.

"Long time, sir," said Bacchus; "like as not he'll never see old Aunt Peggy
agin. She's failin, sir, you can see by de way she sets in de sun all day,
wid a long switch in her hand, trying to hit de little niggers as dey go
by. Sure sign she's gwine home. If she wasn't altogether wore out, she'd be
at somefin better. She's sarved her time cookin and bakin, and she's gwine
to a country whar there's no 'casion to cook any more. She's a good old
soul, but wonderful cross sometimes."

"She has been an honest, hard-working, and faithful servant, and a sober
one too," said Mr. Weston.

"I understand, sir," said Bacchus, humbly; "but don't give yourself no
oneasiness about me! I shall be home to-morrow night, ready to jine in at
prayers."

"Very well--that will do, Bacchus," said Mr. Weston, who felt anxious to
enjoy the society of his friend.

"Good evenin to you all," said Bacchus, retreating with many bows.

We will see how Bacchus kept his word, and for the present leave Mr. Weston
to discuss the subjects of the day with his guest; while the ladies paid a
visit to Aunt Peggy, and listened to her complaints of "the flies and the