was to economize; 'for Maussa,' she would say, 'is so freehanded, an' six chillun is a houseful.'" "To us children she showed her regard by great sternness of demeanor, but compensated by the beautiful tucking she did on our dresses--the only sewing she ever did. And your grandmother had no respite until she supplied the material Tay thought necessary. Your grandmother was so sure of her trustworthiness that she never interfered with her management. We never thought of remonstrating, although she mortified us sometimes by her treatment of our friends. She had no patience with too many visitors, and always presided at our tea, serving us with our cups of milk, and bread and treacle. We had some little friends who were very apt to run in just at the tea hour. Once, when they came steadily for a week, we saw clouds gathering on Tay's brow, and were not surprised when, one evening after she had helped us all, she turned to our friends and said: 'To-morrow, take yo' supper befo' you come. Maussa cyan't affo'd to support two families.' This broke up our tea parties. "Tay had a husband as remarkable in his way as she was in hers. He was taller than she, slim, and very black; and was a very prosperous negro. He belonged to two maiden ladies, and lived a very independent life, free from care. He was a cooper by trade, and in his own shop plied his calling on his own account, only every quarter bringing his owners his set wages. And whenever illness or trouble of any kind overtook him, to his owners he came for care or protection. He finally concluded to buy his freedom, and asked your grandfather to become his guardian, as required by the law, if he could accomplish his purpose. He also asked him to be so kind as to ask his owners what they would take for him. Your grandfather saw the ladies, who fixed as moderate a price as they could; and when he told Daddy Sam the result of his negotiations, instead of being gratified, he was angry, and said: 'My mistresses has no idea how valuable I is. I t'ought dey would ask 'bout $300 mo'. Dey can't affo'd to part wid me fer less, an' I means to pay it.' The ladies were not obdurate, and no doubt had an increased idea of Daddy Sam's value. "This worthy pair had no children; and Daddy Sam died not long before the war, leaving Tay quite a little sum of money. He had offered to buy her freedom for her, but she did not desire it. I remember that when he died she took off her turban when she went to church, and donned a gigantic crape veil. One day she came home very angry. She had met some sportsmen going hunting, who had begged her to go along with them as a ramrod, as they had lost theirs! "When the war began she was very unhappy. There is no doubt that at that period there was a feeling of expectation and disaffection among the negroes; but Tay was of a thoroughly loyal nature, and had no sympathy with the negro character, and understood it entirely; and their meaner traits were revolting to her.