“On business, eh?” replied Mr. Smith, stepping in at the low window. “Well, what’s the business, little ones?” and he took a seat on the side of the bed, and regarded them curiously. But here Diddie stopped, for she felt it was a delicate matter to speak to this genial, pleasant-faced old man of cruelty to his own slaves. Dumps, however, was troubled with no such scruples; and, finding that Mr. Smith was not so terrible as she hid feared, she approached him boldly, and, standing by his side, she laid one hand on his gray head, and said: “Mr. Smith, we’ve come ter beg you please not ter whup Uncle Pomp if he comes back. He is runned erway, an me an Diddie know where he is, an’ we’ve ben feedin’ him, an’ we don’t want you ter whup him; will you please don’t?” and Dumps’s arm slipped down from the old man’s head, until it rested around his neck; and Mr. Smith, looking into her eager, childish face, and seeing the blue eyes filled with tears, thought of the little faces that long years ago had looked up to his; and, bending his head, he kissed the rosy mouth. “You won’t whup him, will you?” urged Dumps. “Don’t you think he ought to be punished for running away and staying all this time, when I needed him in the crop?” asked Mr. Smith, gently. “But, indeed, he is punished,” said Diddie; “he was almost starved to death when me and Dumps carried him the picnic; and then he is so scared, he’s been punished, Mr. Smith; so please let him come home, and don’t whup him.” “Yes, PLE-EE-ASE promise,” said Dumps, tightening her hold on his neck; and Mr. Smith, in memory of the little arms that once clung round him, and the little fingers that in other days clasped his, said: “Well, I’ll promise, little ones. Pomp may come home, and I’ll not whip or punish him in any way;” and then he kissed them both, and said they must have a lunch with him, and then he would take them home and bring Pomp back; for he was astonished to learn that they had walked so long a distance, and would not hear of their walking back, though Diddie persisted that they must go, as they had stolen off, and nobody knew where they were. He made the cook bake them some hot corn hoe-cakes and boil them some eggs; and while she was fixing it, and getting the fresh butter and buttermilk to add to the meal, Mr. Smith took them to the June apple-tree, and gave them just as many red apples as they wanted to eat, and some to take home to Tot. And Dumps told him all about “Old Billy” and Cherubim and Seraphim, and the old man laughed, and enjoyed it all, for he had no relatives or friends, and lived entirely alone—a stern, cold man, whose life had been embittered by the sudden loss of his loved ones, and it had been many weary years since he had heard children’s voices chatting and laughing under the apple-tree.