“Well,” said Major Bass, after a pause, during which he seemed to be thinking, “suppos’n’ I was to let myself be took in by your tale, an’ suppos’n’ I was to give you some vittles, what have you got to put ’em in?” “I got a basket out dar, Marse Maje,” said Jesse, cheerfully. “I brung it a purpose.” “Why, tooby shore, tooby shore!” exclaimed the major, sarcastically. “Ef you was as forehanded as you is fore-thoughted you wouldn’t be a-runnin’ roun’ beggin’ vittles from han’ to mouth. But sence you are here you’d better make haste; bekaze ef your Miss Sarah comes back from church and ketches you here, she’ll kick up a purty rippit.” The major was correct. As he and Jesse went into the pantry Mrs. Bass entered the front door. Flinging her bonnet and mantilla on a bed, she went to the back porch for a drink of water. The major heard her coming through the hallway, and, by a swift gesture of his hand, cautioned Jesse to be quiet. “I’ll vow if the place ain’t left to take care of itself,” Mrs. Bass was saying. “Doors all open, chickens in the dining-room, cat licking the churn-dasher, and I’ll bet my existence that not a drop of fresh water has been put in the house-bucket since I left this morning. Everything gone to rack and ruin. I can’t say my prayers in peace at home, and if I go to church one Sunday in a month there ain’t no satisfaction in the sermon, because I know everything’s at loose ends on this whole blessed place. And if you’d go up the street right now, you’d find Mr. Bass a-setting up there at the tavern with the other loafers, a-giggling and a-snickering and a-dribbling at the mouth like one possessed.” The major, in the pantry, winced visibly at this picture drawn true to life, and as he attempted to change his position he knocked a tin vessel from one of the shelves. He caught at it, and it fell to the floor with a loud crash. “The Lord have mercy!” exclaimed Mrs. Bass. “Is Satan and all his imps in the pantry, a-tearing down and a-smashing up things?” Not being a timid woman, she hastened to investigate. The sight she saw in the pantry struck her speechless. In one corner stood the major, holding up one foot, as if he was afraid of breaking something, and vainly trying to smile. In another corner stood Jesse, so badly frightened that very little could be seen of his face except the whites of his eyes. The tableau was a comical one. Mrs. Bass did not long remain speechless. “Mr. Bass!” she exclaimed, “what under the shining sun are you doing colloguing with niggers in my pantry? If you want to collogue with niggers, why, in the name of common sense, don’t you take ’em out to the barn? What are you doing in there, anyhow? For mercy’s sake! have you gone stark-natural crazy? And if you ain’t, what brand-new caper are you trying to cut up?” “Don’t talk so loud, Sarah,” said the major, wiping the cold perspiration from his face. “All the neighbors’ll hear you.”