"But, moster," said Alston, "I's got a wife an' fou' childun in Ol' Virginny, an' I promused I'd wait an' wouldn't git morred ag'in tell she'd write ter me ef her moster'd sell her; an' I was goin' ter ax yer ter buy 'er." "You needn't pester yourself about that. I got a letter for you the other day from her," the doctor said, fumbling in his pockets. "Yer did, sah?" Alston said with interest. "Yes: here it is. Can you read? or shall I read it to you?" "Ef yer please, moster." Then Dr. Horton read: "MY DEAR B'LOVED HUSBUN': Miss Marthy Jane takes my pen in han' ter let yer know I's well, an' our childun's well, an' all the black folks is tolerbul well 'cept Juno: her's got the polsy tolerbul bad. All the white folks 'bout yere is will 'cept mistis: her's got the dumps. All the childun say, Howdy? the black folks all says, Howdy? an' Pete says, Howdy? an' Andy says, Howdy? an' Viny says, Howdy? an' Cinthy says, Howdy? an' Tony Tucker says, Howdy? and Brudder Thomas Jeff'son Hollan' says, Howdy? Last time I see'd Benj'man Franklins Bedfud, he says, ''Member, an' don't fawgit, the fus' time yer writes, ter tell Als'on, Howdy?' "Yer 'fectionate wife, CHLOE." "P.S. Mistis says her can't spaw me, so 'tain't no use waitin' no longer fer me. 'Sides, I got 'gaged ter git morred: I wus morred Sundy 'fo' las' at quat'ly meetin'. Brudder Mad'son Mason puffawmed the solemn cer'mony, an' preached a beautiful discou'se. Me an' my secon' husbun' gits 'long fus'-rate. I fawgot ter tell yer who I got morred to. I got morred to Thomas Jeff'son Hollan'." "So you're a free man," said Dr. Horton, folding the letter and handing it to Alston. "You an' Little Lizay can get married to-day, right now, if you wish to. Uncle Moses can marry you: he's a member of the Church in good an' regular standin': I don't know but he's an exhorter, or class-leader, or somethin'. What do you say? Shall I call him in an' have him tie you together?" "Thanky, moster, ef Little Lizay's willin'.--Is yer, Lizay?" "I reckon so," said Lizay, her heart beating in gladness. But she nevertheless glanced down at her coarse field-dress and thought with longing of the new calico in her cabin. So Uncle Moses was called in, and Mrs. Horton and all the children and servants. "Uncle Moses," said Dr. Horton, "did you ever marry anybody?" "To be sho', Mos' Hawton. I's morred--Lemme see how many wives has I morred sence I fus' commenced?" "Oh, I don't mean that;" and Dr. Horton proceeded to explain what he did mean. "No," said Moses. "I never done any that business, but reckon I could: I's done things a heap hauder." "Well, let me see you try your han' on this couple." "Well," said Uncle Moses, "git me a book: got ter have a Bible, or hymn-book, or cat'chism, or somethin'." The doctor gravely handed over a pocket edition of _Don Quixote_, which happened to lie in his reach.