"High!" said Sam, opening his eyes. "How you know dat?"

"Heard her say so, my own self, dis blessed mornin', when I bring in
Mas'r's shaving-water. She sent me to see why Lizy didn't come to dress
her; and when I telled her she was off, she jest ris up, and ses she,
'The Lord be praised;' and Mas'r, he seemed rael mad, and ses he, 'Wife,
you talk like a fool.' But Lor! she'll bring him to! I knows well enough
how that'll be,--it's allers best to stand Missis' side the fence, now I
tell yer."

Black Sam, upon this, scratched his woolly pate, which, if it did
not contain very profound wisdom, still contained a great deal of a
particular species much in demand among politicians of all complexions
and countries, and vulgarly denominated "knowing which side the bread is
buttered;" so, stopping with grave consideration, he again gave a hitch
to his pantaloons, which was his regularly organized method of assisting
his mental perplexities.

"Der an't no saying'--never--'bout no kind o' thing in _dis_ yer world,"
he said, at last. Sam spoke like a philosopher, emphasizing _this_--as
if he had had a large experience in different sorts of worlds, and
therefore had come to his conclusions advisedly.

"Now, sartin I'd a said that Missis would a scoured the varsal world
after Lizy," added Sam, thoughtfully.

"So she would," said Andy; "but can't ye see through a ladder, ye black
nigger? Missis don't want dis yer Mas'r Haley to get Lizy's boy; dat's
de go!"