“Yistiddy mawnin’ I wuz crossin’ de road gwine ter de thicket wha dat speckled hen name “Yaller Legs” is hatchin’—in de pile ub jack-oak brush close ter de spring—when, lo an’ beholst! dat free niggah Jim Brooks cum erlong. He wuz dribin’ in his kyart uh po’ leetle harf-starbed steer, an’ I wuz jes’ thinkin’ ter mehsef, Is dat kyart movin’ er no, so slow wuz he gwine. De truf is de leetle steer wan’ much bigger dan one ub Mars Pinckney’s wethers. Tho’ I nebba been interjuced ter dat Jim Brooks (me dat waits on de qual’ty), jes’ ez I cross de road dat free niggah say ter his steer, ‘Step up, Pete, step up; an’ look out, stranger, dat you don’ git run ober!’ Now, I cornsider dat de wus’ sort ub impotence, an’ I wan’ you ter tell him so ef’n he is at Zion ter-night. I’m not gwine ter stan’ hit. Ef’n he had uh par ub fars-trottin’ steers like Uncle Simon’s, hit wud be bad ’nuff, but ter be ’sulted by dat sort ub miration is scan’lus.” “Well, Nancy, stay home an’ let me go ter de rebate; dem chickens’ hatchin’ is pow’ful waluble. I gib Mage Rudd five levys fuh thutty ub dem eggs, an’ he say dat breed ub chickens cum fum Henrico County, Firginny, an’ once lay uh gole egg; so ub cose dey wuf watchin’ day an’ nite. Mo’n dat, I am one ub de arbiters, an’ I won’ let dat imperdent free niggah Jim Brooks dat ’sulted you cum in Zion, ef’n hit breck up de rebate. I holp ter meck de brick fuh dat chuch, an’ I sut’ny got some sponsibility in de matter.” “Well, Billy, when you spressify yo’sef dat way, ez de moon is so young, an’ hit so dark, I will stay home.” Their conversation was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, which Nancy opened and exclaimed, “Bless meh soul an’ body, an’ body an’ soul, ef’n hit ain’ young Mistis! Why, honey, howdy; an’ wha you bin?” “Mammy Nancy, one of Father’s ewes died in February and left a dear little lamb. I took it to the house, fed it from a bottle, and it became like Mary’s little lamb—everywhere that I went the lamb was sure to go. Early this morning I started out to get the first spring flowers. After I had walked about a mile I heard Snow Flake bleating, and looking back saw her gambolling after me. When I passed the fold a hundred or more of beautiful leaping lambs romped around her, and soon my sweet Snow Flake seemed to forget me and skipped and played with the other lambs. I felt that I would be a wolf to take that lamb from the flock; and yet, Mammy Nancy, I love that little lamb so much. And, oh! how I have watched and tended it! Finally I walked to your spring, sat down and cried, and then I felt thirsty; and when I looked for the gourd that hangs on the nail in the pine tree it was gone. So I have come for the gourd.”