"Give it up for to-night, Griffith," said his wife, gently, as he still stood helplessly trying to explain again and again. "You look so white, and I am very tired. Give it up for tonight. It will be easier after they have talked it over together, perhaps--by daylight." She pushed him gently into a chair and motioned to Jerry to take them all away. The faithful fellow remembered, when outside, that she had asked him to sing, but the merry song she had named had no echo in the hearts about him. All understood that they had failed to respond to something that the master had expected. The strings of his banjo rang out in a few minor chords, and as they moved toward the quarters an old forgotten melody floated back-- O, de shadders am a deepenin' on de mountains, O, de shadders am a deep'nin' on de stream, An' I think I hear an echo f urn de valley, An echo ob de days ob which I dream! Ole happy days! Ole happy days! Befo' I knew dat sorrow could be bawn, When I played wid mos'er's chillun in de medder, When my wuk was done a-hoein' ob de cawn! Dose happy, happy days! Dose happy, happy days! Dey'll come again no mo', no-o-o m-o-r-e, no more! Ole mos'er is a-sleepin' 'neath de willow! An' de apple blossoms' failin' on de lawn, Where he used to sit an' doze beneath its shadder, In de days when I was hoein' ob de cawn! Ole happy, etc. Dey'll come no mo' dis side de rlbber Jordan, O, dey'll come no mo' dis side de golden shoah! Foh de Chilian's growed so big dat deys forgot me, Kase I'se ole an' cannot wok foh dem no mo'! Ole happy, etc. CHAPTER VIII.--OUT OF BONDAGE. _"Look down. Say nothin'. Few words comprehends the whole."_ The long, lank mountaineer stood leaning on his gun and looking listlessly at the collection of bundles, bags, children, dogs, guns, banjos, and other belongings of the Davenport negroes, as they waited about the wagons, now nearly ready to start for "Washington and the free States"--that Mecca of the colored race. It is true that Lengthy Patterson disapproved of the entire proceeding, notwithstanding his profound respect for, and blind admiration of Parson Davenport, as he always called Griffith; but he had tramped many miles to witness the departure, which had been heralded far and wide. Lengthy's companion, known to his familiars as "Whis" Biggs, slowly stroked the voluminous hirsute adornment to which he was indebted for his name, "Whiskers" being the original of the abbreviation which was now his sole designation--Whis stroked his beard and abstractedly kicked a stray dog, which ran, howling, under the nearest wagon. "Hit do appear t' me that the Pahrson air a leetle teched in the haid." There was a long pause. The negroes looked, as they always did, at these mountaineers in contempt.