"Oh, if dey would but buy me! I wants to go long wid you." "No, no, Judy, you must stay long wid de chillen, an' take kere ob 'em. Besides, you is not strong enough to do de work dey would want you to do. No, I had better go by myself," and he wiped his eyes with his old coat sleeve. "I wish," he added, "dat I had some little present to send de boys," and, fumbling away in his pocket, he at length drew out two shining brass buttons that he had picked up in the yard. "Give dis to 'em; say it was all thar ole daddy had to send 'em; but, maybe, some time I'll have some money; and if I meet any friends down de ribber, I'll send it to 'em, and git a letter writ back to let you and 'em know whar I is sold." Judy opened her basket, and handed him a small bundle. "Here, Pete, is a couple of shirts and a par of trowsers I fetched you, and here's a good par of woollen socks to keep you warm in de winter; and dis is one of Masser's ole woollen undershirts dat Missis sent you. You know how you allers suffers in cold wedder wid de rheumatiz." "Tell Missis thankee," and his voice was choking in his throat. There was many a tearful eye among the company, looking at this little scene. But, suddenly it was broken up by the appearance of Mr. Atkins. "Well, ole woman," he began, addressing Uncle Pete's wife, "it is time you was agoin'. You has staid long enough. Thar's no use in makin' a fuss. Pete belongs to me, an' I am agoin' to sell him to the highest bidder I can find down the river." "Oh, Masser, won't you please buy me?" asked Judy. "No, you old fool." "Oh, hush Judy, pray hush," put in Pete; "humor her a little Masser Atkins, she will go in a minnit. Now do go, honey," he added, addressing Judy, who stood a moment, irresolutely, regarding her old husband; then screaming out, "Oh no, no, I can't leave you!" fell down at his feet half insensible. "Oh, Lord Jesus, hab marcy!" groaned Pete, as he bent over his partner's body. "Take her out, instantly," exclaimed Atkins, as one of the men dragged the body out. "Please be kereful, don't hurt her," implored Pete. "Behave yourself, and don't go near her," said Atkins to him, "or I'll have both you an' her flogged. I am not goin' to have these fusses in my pen." All this time Charley's face was frightful. As Atkins passed along he looked toward Charley, and I thought he quailed before him. That regal face of the mulatto man was well calculated to awe such a sinister and small soul as Atkins. "Yes, yes, Charles, that proud spirit of yourn will git pretty well broken down in the cotton fields," he murmured, just loud enough to be heard. Charles made no answer, though I observed that his cheek fairly blazed. * * * * * *