Aunt Hagar beamed, and as she reëntered the room and stood over Lettice, where she sat in a low splint-bottomed chair, she said: “He blue blood. I knows dat. Some folkses has money but dey hasn’t nothin’ e’s. He got de name an’ de manners of a gent’man.” She stroked Lettice’s hair with her withered old hand. “Now, honey,” she went on, “I gwine give yuh a drink o’ sumpin’ to put yuh to sleep, an’ yuh ain’ gwine wake up no mo’ twel de sun three hours high; an’ I gwine put a name in dis cup so yuh dreams gwine be sweet an’ pleasant. Yuh is had a bad ’sperience, an’ yuh might have turr’ble dreams ef yuh didn’t have no chawm ter stop ’em. Drink dis, honey, hit tas’ es sweet an’ good, an’ won’ hu’t a kitten. I mek yo’ baid up nice an’ clean, an’ yuh sleep lak a baby.” “But where will you sleep?” Lettice asked. “I sleep whar I sleep. Yuh reckon I uses dat baid? I sleeps whar I sleeps; in dis cheer, on de flo’, anywhar I lak. Yuh don’ reckon I sleeps in dat baid dese hot nights? No, ma’am, I sleeps whar I sleeps.” And despite Lettice’s protests she would have her take possession of the high four-posted bed with its bright patchwork quilt, and its fresh white sheets; and in a few minutes the exhausted girl was fast asleep. She awakened the next morning to hear the patter of rain on the roof, and to see Aunt Hagar crouching over a fire, giving her attention to a fine pone browning in the bake kettle. There was an odor of sizzling bacon, of coffee, and of some herby mess which Lettice could not identify. She sat up in bed, and called, “Aunt Hagar.” The old woman arose with alacrity. “I ’lows hit mos’ time fo’ yuh to wek up. I has yo’ brekfus mos’ done, an’ yo’ clo’es is dry an’ ready fo’ yuh. Yo’ stockings is too raggety fo’ yuh to w’ar, an’ yo’ purty frock ain’ nothin’ but strips an’ strings. Yuh has to w’ar hit though; hit clean. An’ ’tain’ no matter ’bout de stockin’s, yuh ain’ gwine put yo’ footies to de groun’ fo’ a week; dat I say.” “But they feel much better; so much. And, oh, Aunt Hagar, you must have been up very early to have washed and ironed all my things.” “I gits up when I ready. I nuvver has no rug’lar time fo’ gittin’ up an’ gwine to baid,” she explained; and then she helped Lettice on with her clothes, after bringing her warm water in a tin basin, and attending to her wants. Then she made ready the breakfast on a deal table to which Lettice was assisted, after having been made to drink a copious draught of herb tea. “Mek yuh eat hearty, chile. Mek yuh feel nice, an’ keep off de chills, an’ mek yuh rosy an’ purty. Yuh doan’ want dem pale cheeks when Mars Bald’in’ aroun’,” coaxingly said Aunt Hagar. Lettice laughed, and, with a wry face, swallowed the draught, and, to her surprise, she found herself ready for a hearty breakfast, which seemed to taste uncommonly good, for Aunt Hagar was a famous cook and nurse, as she was a noted “conjur woman.”