“Oh, yes. So; true. I 'd forgotten that 'Mandy left you. But I thought the new one was named Susan!” observed Mrs. Meriwether. “No, 'm; not de _newes_' one. Susan--I had her las' Christmas; but she would n' stay wid me. She was al'ays runnin' off to town; an' you know a man don' want a ooman on wheels. Ef de Lawd had intended a ooman to have wheels, he 'd 'a' gi'n 'em to her, would n' he?” “Well, I suppose he would,” assented Mrs. Meriwether. “And this one is Sarah? Well, how is----?” “Yes, 'm; dis one was Sairey.” We just caught the past tense. “You get them so quickly, you see, you can't expect one to remember them,” said Mrs. Meriwether, frigidly. She meant to impress Jabez; but Jabez remained serene. “Yes, 'm; dat 's so,” said he, cheerfully. “I kin hardly remember 'em myself.” “No, I suppose not.” His mistress grew severe. “Well, how 's Sarah?” “Well, m'm, I could n' exactly say--Sairey she 's done lef me--yes, 'm.” He looked so cheerful that his mistress said with asperity: “Left you! She has run off, too! You must have treated her badly?” “No, 'm. I did n'. I never had a wife I treated better. I let her had all she could eat; an' when she was sick----” “I heard she was sick. I heard you sent for the doctor.” “Yes, 'm; dat I did--dat 's what I was gwine to tell you. I had a doctor to see her _twice_. I had two separate and _indifferent_ physicians: fust Dr. Overall, an' den Marse Douglas. I could n' do no mo' 'n dat, now, could I?” “Well, I don't know,” observed Mrs. Meriwether. “My son told me a week ago that she was sick. Did she get well?” The old man shook his head solemnly. “No, 'm; but she went mighty easy. Marse Douglas he eased her off. He is the bes' doctor I ever see to let 'em die easy.” Mingled with her horror at his cold-blooded recital, a smile flickered about Mrs. Meriwether's mouth at this shot at her son, the doctor; but the old man looked absolutely innocent. “Why did n 't you send for the doctor again?” she demanded. “Well, m'm, I gin her two chances. I think dat was 'nough. I wuz right fond o' Sairey; but I declar' I 'd rather lost Sairey than to _broke_.” “You would!” Mrs. Meriwether sat up and began to bristle. “Well, at least, you have the expense of her funeral; and I 'm glad of it,” she asserted with severity. “Dat 's what I come over t' see you 'bout. I 'm gwine to give Sairey a fine fun'ral. I want you to let yo' cook cook me a cake an'--one or two more little things.” “Very well,” said Mrs. Meriwether, relenting somewhat; “I will tell her to do so. I will tell her to make you a good cake. When do you want it?” “Thank you m'm. Yes, m'm; ef you 'll gi' me a right good-sized cake--an'--a loaf or two of flour-bread--an'--a ham, I 'll be very much obleeged to you. I heah she 's a mighty good cook?”