“I made her hide over For a wagon-cover. (Go de corn!) “I cut her hoof up For a drinkin’ cup. (Go de corn!) “Her tail I strip’ Fur a wagon-whip. (Go de corn!) “Her ribs hol’ op Dat wagon top. (Go de corn!)” And so on until, as Mea murmured, under cover of the uproarious “Go de corn!” repeated over and over and over, with growing might of lung—“Maria was worth twice as much dead as alive.” We had had our first nap when the chatter of the supper-party, saying their farewells to hosts and companions, awoke us. We tumbled out of bed and flew to the window. The moon was as bright as day, the dark figures bustling between us and the heaps of shucks and the mounds of corn, gleaming like gold in the moonlight, reminded us of nimble ants scampering about their hills. The supper had evidently been eminently satisfactory. We could smell hot coffee and sausage still. Fine phrases, impossible to any but a negro’s brain and tongue, flew fast and gayly. The girls giggled and gurgled in palpable imitation of damsels of fairer skins and higher degree. Hampton—the spruce carriage-driver (as coachmen were named then) of Mr. Spencer D., Effie’s father—bowed himself almost double right under our window in worshipful obeisance to a bright mulatto in a blazing red frock. “Is all de ladies ockerpied wid gentlemen?” he called, perfunctorily, over his shoulder. And, ingratiatingly direct to the coy belle who pretended not to see his approach, “Miss Archer! is you ockerpied?” Miss Archer tittered and writhed coquettishly. “Well, Mr. D.! I can’t jes’ say that I is!” “Then, jes’ hook on hyar, won’t you?” crooking a persuasive elbow. XV THE COUNTRY GIRLS AT A CITY SCHOOL—VELVET HATS AND CLAY’S DEFEAT OUR father took us to Richmond the first of October. A stage ran between Cumberland Court House and the city, going down one day and coming up the next, taking in Powhatan wayside stations and one or more in Chesterfield. We rarely used the public conveyance. This important journey was made in our own carriage. A rack at the back contained two trunks. Other luggage had gone down by the stage. We had dinner at a half-way house of entertainment, leaving home at 9 o’clock A.M., and coming in sight of the town at five in the afternoon.