"'Well, she brings more,' I says, 'only the ole man makes a speech 'n' tells 'em he's buying her fur you. Everybody quit biddin' then.' She stands there a minute, her eyes gettin' bigger 'n' bigger. I never see eyes so big 'n' soft 'n' dark. "'Would you do me a favor?' she says at last. "'Fifty of 'em,' I says. She gives me a little smile. "'One's all that's necessary, thank you,' she says. 'Will you find Uncle Jake for me and tell him I wish to see him?' "'You bet I will,' I says, 'n' I beats it over to the barns. . . I finds Uncle Jake, 'n' he's got weak eyes all right--he can't hardly see. He's got rheumatism, too--he's all crippled up with it. When I gets back with him, Miss Goodloe's still standin' on the porch. "'I want to find out who bought old Mary, Uncle Jake,' she says. 'Do you know?' "'I was jus' fixin' to come over hyar an' tell you de good news, Miss Sally,' says Uncle Jake. 'When dey puts ole Mahey up to' sale, she look pow'ful ole an' feeble. De autioneer jes 'seeches 'em fo' to make some sawt o' bid, but hit ain' no use. Dey doan' nobody want her. Hit look lak de auctioneer in a bad hole--he doan' know what to do zakly. Hit's gittin' mighty 'bahassin' fo' him, so I say to him: "Mr. Auctioneer, I ain' promisin' nothin', but Miss Sally Goodloe mought be willin' to keep dis hyar ole mare fo' 'membrance sake." De auctioneer am mighty tickled, an' he say, "Uncle Jake, ef Miss Sally will 'soom de 'sponsibility ob dis ole mare, hit would 'blige me greatly." Dat's howkum ole Mahey back safe in de paddock, an' dey ain' _nobody_ gwine to take her away fum you, honey!' "'Uncle Jake,' says Miss Goodloe, 'where is your twenty dollars you got for that tobacco you raised?' "'Ain' I tole you 'bout dat, Miss Sally? Dat mis'able money done skip out an' leave thoo a hole in ma pocket,' says Uncle Jake, 'n' pulls one of his pants pockets inside out. Sure enough, there's a big hole in it. "'Didn't I give you a safety-pin to pin that money in your inside coat pocket?' says Miss Goodloe. "'Yess'm, dat's right,' he says. 'But I'se countin' de money one day an' a span ob mules broke loose an' stahts lickety-brindle fo' de bahn, an' aimin' to ketch de mules, I pokes de money in de pocket wid de hole. I ain' neber see dat no-'coun' money sence.' "Miss Goodloe looks at the ole nigger fur a minute. "'Uncle Jake . . . oh, Uncle Jake . . .' she says. '_These_ are the things I just _can't_ stand!' Her eyes fill up, 'n' while she bites her lip agin, it ain't no use. Two big tears roll down her cheeks. 'I'll see you in a moment,' she says to me, 'n' goes inside. "'Bad times! Bad times, pow'ful bad times!' says Uncle Jake, 'n' hobbles away a-mutterin' to hisself.